Date: Thu, 11 Nov 1999 21:20:19 EST
From: Storywrightr@aol.com
Subject: Week from Hell

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. It contains
characters who share names, descriptions, etc., with real-life
people (specifically members of the group *N SYNC); however, this
is all fantasy and in no way is to insinuate anything about those
people.

For those of you who have read my other stories ("All Grown Up" and
"Singing4Wrightr"), I think this is really quite different. The
characterizations of the group members and the tone of the story
are different; it's rather serious. So, if you liked the other
stories, you may or may not like this one. If you didn't like those,
you may or may not like this one. Anyway, thanks for giving it a
try! Please send comments to storywrightr@aol.com. Thanks.

Thanks to Eriker for reading and encouraging! Means a lot to me!


Week from Hell


As I found the entrance to the emergency room, I ran in looking
for any familiar faces. At least I didn't see any media vans or
any photographers or obvious reporters. I did notice a couple
police cars. I had no idea why they were there, but I thought it
might be good if anything started to get out of hand.

I walked toward the desk to ask the receptionist for information
just as Joey came around the corner and called out to me.

"JC! Over here man!"

"Joey--what happened? Is everything okay? Chris sounded pretty
freaked out on the phone."

"Yeah he was--IS; guess we all are. But Justin is with the doctor
now. He's just going to have some bruises and scrapes and stuff.
Nothing real bad. But he's going to be pretty sore. They wanted
to do all the X-rays and stuff to make sure that there was nothing
going on that they couldn't see from the outside."

"What happened?"

"We were at that club, you know? The one we talked about going
to. It was really crowded and stuff. We were having fun--dancing
whatever. We got recognized a lot, but it was cool--people left
us alone. The three of us got separated--you know just doin'
whatever each of us wanted to do. Then some security guy from the
club came and found me and asked me to follow him. When we got to
some back area, I saw Justin lying there all bloody. He really
looked worse than he was, but he had hit his head pretty bad and
was really out of it. They told me that he'd been in a fight and
that the other guy had disappeared. Someone found Justin in the
restroom all dizzy and stuff. The paramedics came in about then
and started checking him over--he was starting to come to but was
still pretty out of it--seemed really scared like--kept yelling
at them to leave him alone and not touch him. I started talking
to him and trying to get him to calm down to let them do their
stuff, but he didn't listen to me much either. They finally got
him on a stretcher and were able to get him out the back to the
ambulance. They told me they'd be coming here, so I found Chris
and we came here by taxi. Chris called you and Lance from the cab."

"Where is Lance--where's Chris?"

"Chris is in with Justin. When the doctors saw how upset he was,
they let Chris stay in with him. Really wish it had been you--you
guys are a lot closer."

"Should I try to get in there now?"

"I think they were about done, but let's check."

Walking back toward the examination area, my mind was really
spinning--what had happened? How could Justin have gotten in a
fight? And in a men's room? It all sounded so strange. Maybe he
had walked in on some drug deal or something. Saw something he
shouldn't have. It was so unbelievable.

"This is the room they're in. Let's see what's going on."

Opening the door just enough for us both to peak in, we saw
Justin lying on the bed with Chris standing next to him. There
weren't any doctors or nurses in the room, so Joey pushed the
door further open and we went in.

"Justin--man--you okay?" I asked walking toward him.

"NO! he's NOT okay! Look at him!" It was Chris answering for
Justin. Justin just looked up at me with a blank stare. It scared
me. It was like he didn't recognize me.

And Chris scared me too. He was so angry. He seemed almost
out of control.

Before anything else could be said, a man and a woman appeared at
the door holding up badges.

"Mr. Timberlake, I'm Detective Rogers and this is Detective
Rodriguez," the male said. "We need to ask you some questions. I
know you aren't very comfortable right now, but we really need to
talk with you while things are fresh in your mind."

Justin stared at them a moment, then kind of mumbled, "I'll never
forget anything about tonight."

"You may want to clear the room --we'll need you to get pretty
specific about what occurred," Rogers said.

"I don't care. They can stay. They're my friends."

"Okay--your choice. Why don't you start by telling us what
happened. We'll interrupt if we need additional details."

Justin stared at the wall to the side of the bed. He seemed to be
thinking back over the evening and what had happened. Then he
began to speak slowly. "We were at the club--Chris and Joey and
me. We were all kind of doing our own thing. I'd been dancing--
mostly by myself. Girls would dance around me, but we weren't
really dancing together--just sort of all of us together. I was
having fun." He kind of faded out for a moment before continuing.

"I had to use the restroom, so I took off to find it and finally
found it back and down some hallway. I don't think it was the
main bathroom--seemed kind of deserted. Anyway, I went in--no one
else was in there. I went to a urinal and started doing my stuff.
I heard the door open behind me, but didn't think anything about
it." Justin paused; he just seemed so beaten--body and soul.

"This guy came up beside me, right beside me. I assumed he was
going to use the next urinal. I didn't look over at him or
anything. Then he said, 'Hi,' and I looked over to see who was
there."

"Can you describe him for us?" It was the female detective,
Rodriguez, speaking for the first time. This seemed to catch
Justin off guard. He turned and stared at her for a couple
moments before he answered her. Or maybe he was caught up in his
memories.

"At first I just thought he looked like a normal enough guy. I
guess he was a little shorter than me. I guess about JC's height.
Like 5'10"?" Justin asked, glancing at me.

I muttered a "Yeah," and Justin continued.

"A little bulkier than JC though. Kind of muscular. Kind of big I
guess--at least for his height. Dark hair--almost black. Short
and kind of spiked up at the front."

"Eye color? Distinguishing marks?" It was Rogers asking these
questions.

"I don't know. Dark eyes? Brown I guess? I don't know. . . .  And
what? Oh, like scars or whatever?" The detective nodded. "I don't
remember anything like that."

"And what was he wearing?" asked Rogers.

"A black sweater. I remember that. My face got smashed into it.
It was cotton I think--not rough like wool. And black jeans. And
an earring. A hoop. Gold."

"Okay, that's good. Let's go back to what happened."

Justin stared at the wall again. His eyes seemed to glaze over
for a moment as he thought back to the events of the evening.

"So the guy was standing next to me--like at the next urinal--but
he wasn't using it. He wasn't even turned toward it. He was
standing there looking at me with this kind of sick grin on his
face. I kind of nodded and said hi back and then turned back to
look at the wall. I could kind of feel that he was still looking
my way. I quickly finished and put things away and zipped up my
pants. I turned toward the sinks, and the guy was still just
standing there staring at me, kind of in the way of me going to
the sinks. I started to walk around him and he grabbed my arm--
really hard. I looked at him and said something like, 'What's up
man?' or something. He pulled me toward him, grabbing my other
arm with his other hand, and with this sick smile on his face
pulled me really close so our faces were close together." As
Justin had continued to talk, he continued to stare at the wall,
not looking at anyone in the room. His voice had become really
calm--really kind of eerie.

"I didn't know what he was doing. I didn't even react much--I
mean I had never had anything like this happen before--never
thought about something like this ever happening. . . . He just
looked at me, then he kissed me--hard--on the mouth--holding me
so tight I couldn't move. And I just couldn't think what to do.
It all happened so fast I didn't have time to think. I had no
idea what to do. He pulled back then and stared at me, still with
that smile, and said, 'I knew it. I knew you'd love it. I knew
you'd love me.'" With that Justin's dazed look seemed to overcome
him. He stopped speaking and just stared at the wall. I looked
around the room at the others. The detectives both had
expressions as if they were hearing nothing unusual--like they
were listening to a weather report. Joey had a really concerned,
really worried look on his face. And Chris looked angry--like he
wanted to tear something or someONE apart.

"What happened next?" asked Rogers.

The question seemed to startle Justin and bring him back to
the present. He almost looked embarrassed--like he had been
caught doing something wrong. "What?"

"What happened after the man grabbed you and forced you to kiss
him?" Rogers repeated.

"He didn't force me to kiss him! He kissed me. I didn't kiss
him!" Justin yelled at the detective.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Timberlake. Please continue."

Justin calmed down again. "I kind of came to I guess and said
something like, 'No I don't--I'm not into this.' And the guy's
face got all like twisted or whatever--really angry. His grip on
my arms became tighter and really hurt. 'Yes you do! You DO love
me!' he yelled at me. I started to struggle, but he was really
strong. I tried to knee him in the balls, but he turned his body
just in time so that I kneed him in his leg--I mean I could tell
it really hurt him, but it didn't put him down like if I had
gotten him where I wanted to. It just seemed to make him madder. He
let go of my arm with his right hand and slugged me in the face.
I guess here on the jaw. Man that hurt. If he hadn't been holding
my other arm, I'd have fallen down, I'm sure. I've never been hit
in the face before. God it hurt. Then he got my other arm again
and pulled my face back to his and kind of hissed as he said,
'You ARE going to love me. You can either enjoy it or not--your
choice!'" Justin took a deep breath before continuing--again
staring at the blank wall.

"He turned us around so that my back was against the wall and
actually kind of slammed my head against it. My head was
pounding, my jaw was aching. He pulled both my arms above my head
and held the two with one hand while he grabbed at my chest
through my shirt. He was like pinching me and grabbing me and
seemed to be getting kind of into it. My mind finally started
clearing enough to think about what to do. I figured that if he
really got into it, I could get my arms loose and make a run for
the door. But then he moved his hand down and grabbed my crotch--
it really shocked me and got me really mad. I pulled my arms
loose and pushed him with all my strength. He went tumbling back,
losing his balance for just a minute--kind of landing back on one
hand, but not all the way onto the floor. I ran, but must of been
too close to him cause he grabbed my leg or tripped me or
something--I fell on my face on the floor. He jumped on my back--
like straddling me--sitting on my lower back. He said, 'That was
stupid,' and started to pound my head against the tile floor
holding onto my hair. I was really losing it about then and
just started to struggle and roll back and forth to throw him off
and finally did. But he didn't let go. I started to stand up, but
he like kicked me or shoved me with his feet while sitting on the
floor. This threw me sideways and totally off balance. He came
over and sat on my chest and held both my wrists with my arms on
either side of my head. He looked down at my face. Then he spit
in my face. I closed my eyes and threw my head from side to side,
but couldn't get loose. I remember what he said then, 'Come on
Justin. I love you. You love me. We'll be good together. Just
us.' He leaned forward real close as he said this. And all I
could think to do was head butt him--like in the movies." For the
first time, Justin kind of half smiled, almost chuckled. "Pretty
stupid. God it hurt. Not sure if it hurt him much or just
surprised him. But he loosened his grip again enough that I could
wiggle away from him. But not fast enough. He kicked me. I may
have missed his balls, but he didn't miss mine. God, I just ached
and felt so sick to my stomach--it like knocked the wind out of
me. I just ended up on my hands and knees trying to breathe and
trying to recover. He stood up and looked down at me laughing. He
then kicked me hard in the side--side of the abs, just below my
ribs. And again. He looked at me and told me I was 'pathetic.'
He kicked me again with all his strength, it seemed, and I fell
over on my side against the wall. Just then, there was knocking
on the door--it must have been locked. He looked up kind of
startled, but then seemed really calm again. He said, 'Bye Justy!
I don't want you all bruised and bloody anyway. I'll find you
when you're all cleaned up and pretty again.'" As Justin recalled
the words of his attacker, his eyes were filled with fear as if
he was reliving the moments again.

"The guy walked over to the door and out; I guess he unlocked it
or whatever. I wanted to scream or run after him or do something,
but all the knocks to my head and all the kicks--I was barely
awake. I thought someone had come into the room, but they
apparently didn't see me right away--and my eyes were barely open
and closing fast. I was pretty out of it until I came to with the
paramedics working on me. Then they brought me here."

I couldn't believe what I had heard. I just wanted to run over to
Justin and hold him and tell him it would be okay. I wanted to
protect him. I wished I had been there--I'd have killed the guy.
How could he hurt Justin? And at the same time talk about loving
him?

"Is there anything else you can remember about the man?" asked
Rogers.

"I'd know him if I saw him. That's for sure. You don't forget
something like this or the person who did it to you," Justin
replied.

"And you never saw him before? Not even during the evening on the
dance floor? Around one of your concerts sometime?"

"Who knows? Who notices guys? Unless they're dressed really weird
or are doing something stupid."

"We can set you up with a sketch artist tomorrow, if you are
available." It was the female detective speaking again. There was
no answer--didn't seem to be any needed.

"Okay, the doctors said that you can go. We need to keep your
shirt and pants--in case we do get the guy and may be able to get
some evidence off of your clothes--hairs or whatever. The
hospital will give you some scrubs to wear home."

"In case you get the guy?" Justin asked, suddenly alert.

"You have to understand, even with your description, it's pretty
hard to know where to start looking for this guy," Rogers stated.

"So this psycho is just loose--already talking about the next
time he sees me--and there's nothing you can do?" Justin sounded
more pained than angry as he asked the question.

"What would you have us do, Mr. Timberlake? We will investigate
and question other patrons of the club, but there were at least a
thousand people there at any given time tonight. Unless someone
else happened to see the guy go down the hall and recognized him
or had a name, it's going to be pretty hard to find him. I would
advise that you increase your personal security team and make
certain they know what he looks like."

"What about the guy who came in the bathroom when the attacker
was leaving?" It was my voice--I had asked the question out loud
before even thinking. Everyone in the room looked at me. "He had
to have seen him, right?"

Justin looked at me with something close to appreciation or even
affection in his face for just a moment. "Yeah, what about him?"
Justin asked turning back toward Rogers.

"The attacker rushed past him so fast--and apparently the guy was
in such a hurry to get to the urinal--he really didn't get a good
look at him."

"So the fuckin' faggot just gets away to try this again!" It was
Chris speaking these words. His anger seemed even greater than
before--judging from his words and his voice. I again felt
scared by the way he looked--and by what he said.

"We'll do everything we can," said Rodriguez.

"Yeah, great. We're getting bodyguards Justin! You're not going
anywhere without a couple big bruisers with you all the time! And
if you gotta whiz, we'll clear the bathroom. No one else in or
out till you're finished!" Chris was on a tirade now. Joey
glanced over at me with--what?--a look of concern? Almost like an
apology.

"Fuckin' faggots--should all be shot!" Chris muttered as the
detectives turned their attention to Justin again.

"Here are our cards. We would like for you to talk to the sketch
artist--if nothing else, you'll have a sketch to give to your own
security people," Rogers said. "Perhaps one of your friends can
follow us out and give us information on how we can reach you in
the next few days."

"I'll do that," Joey volunteered. He and the detectives walked
out of the room.

"I am so pissed! God I'd like to get a hold of that guy. See how
he'd like a crowbar up his queer ass!" Justin just stared as
Chris went into this latest tirade. I couldn't read how Justin
was feeling--his face was blank.

I moved toward the bed. "I'm so sorry Justin. So sorry you were
hurt--that you had to go through this. You ready to head back to
the hotel?"

"Yeah." He winced as he started to sit up. "Could you ask a nurse
for the scrubs or whatever? I really don't want to go out in this
thing," he said, indicating the hospital gown he was wearing. "My
shoes around here somewhere?"

"I'll get the scrubs," I said, as Chris started looking around
the room for Justin's shoes.

As I moved out into the hall, I realized that I was in something
of a daze too; I couldn't believe that this had happened--had
happened to Justin. I couldn't believe how Chris was acting
either. I suddenly snapped out of it when I felt a hand drop onto
my shoulder. I turned to see Joey standing there with a concerned
look on his face.

"You okay man?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I be okay? Pretty unbelievable about Justin
though. Man, poor guy," I replied looking into his eyes.

"Yeah. Sometimes being famous ain't no fun. Sorry about how Chris
is acting--I mean, we're all angry, but he seems to be really off
the deep end."

I thought about Chris's words. His fury. "Yeah, I was noticing
that. Why do you think he's so crazed about it?"

"I don't know. I just hope he calms down. I don't think it's what
Justin needs right now--or any of the rest of us."

"Yeah. . . . Oh! I was supposed to come out and get something for
Justin to wear. You know, scrubs or whatever."

"We can ask this nurse over here. I was talking to her earlier."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Joey! You on the prowl even in the
emergency room?" What a relief to laugh for a moment--probably
too big a laugh--kind of releasing the tension. Joey just smiled
broadly.

We went back in the room with the scrubs and found Chris still
ranting about what he'd like to do to the attacker and talking
about what kind of bodyguards we should hire. Justin looked so
tired. And sore. I wanted to get him back to the hotel and into
bed. A nurse came in with some pills in a little bag and said
that they would help with the pain and let Justin sleep.



Miraculously it seemed that our little excursion to the hospital
had not been discovered by the media. We didn't see any sign of
even one photographer as I led the other guys out to the van I
had borrowed from the equipment guys. Not the most comfortable
ride, but it was okay. I got behind the wheel and started back to
the hotel.

"So where's Lance?" I asked, suddenly realizing we were one guy
short.

"Remember? He was going to see that friend of his someplace out
of town tonight. Chris talked to him earlier. He was going to
head back to the hotel, but probably isn't even there yet," Joey
answered from the seat behind me.

"Has anyone called him back to tell him everything is all right?"
I asked.

"Well that would have been pretty stupid since everything ISN'T
all right, don't you think?" Chris yelled from the seat behind
Justin. I glanced at Justin who was just staring down at his
feet. He looked so tired.

"I'm sorry Justin. I didn't mean that it was nothing. I just
meant that you're at least heading back to the hotel with us--you
didn't have to stay at the hospital." I didn't care if Chris
understood what I meant, but I wanted to make sure I hadn't hurt
Justin. He glanced up at me for a moment and slightly nodded his
head.



We got up to the floor of the hotel, and I took Justin's key card
from his hand and opened his door, holding it open for him. We
all followed into the room. Justin went into the bathroom and
closed the door. I moved to the bed and pulled down the bedspread
and got it ready for him to settle in. Joey just stood and
watched as Chris paced back and forth in front of the window.

Justin came out as I was getting a bottle of water from the
refrigerator. He had stayed in the scrubs. "Guess I got some new
pajamas out of it, huh?" he said with a weak smile.

"Great jams, Just!" Joey said with a big smile, trying to
encourage Justin's lighter mood.

"Here's some water Justin. Thought you'd want to take one of
those pills before you go to sleep."

"Thanks Josh. I guess I should. Sleep does sound pretty good
right now."

"Well, we should head out; let you sleep," Joey said.

"Thanks guys. Really thanks." As Justin said this, I thought he
was going to cry. He was being really strong, considering what
he'd been through. But it all seemed to be catching up with him
quickly. I again had the urge to just hold him and tell him it
would be okay.

"If you need anything, just call, kay? 1515, you know?" I said
to Justin.

"Okay."

Out in the hall, Chris seemed really worked up still and wanted
to talk more about the bodyguards. Just then the elevator bell
rang, and we all looked down the hall to see Lance emerge and rush
toward us.

"What's going on? Is Justin okay?"

"Not! But he will be. Especially if we find and KILL the fuckin'
faggot that did this to him!" Chris was yelling again. Lance
looked shocked. Joey glanced over at me, again with that
apologetic look on his face.

"Come on guys, let's get out of the hall. We don't need to be
yelling right in front of Justin's door. We'll fill you in Lance--
come on in my room." Joey motioned toward his door.

"Guys? I'm just going to head to bed. I want to get up early and
check on Justin, so I better get some sleep."

"Sure JC. See you in the morning."

I was only in my room about a minute when the phone rang.
"Hello?"

"Hey Josh." It was a very sleepy sounding Justin on the other end
of the line. "Would you mind coming back over to my room? I mean,
if you aren't doing anything?"

"I'll be right there, Just."

Knocking lightly, I waited for Justin to open the locked door.

As he did, I stepped into the room. He was weaving a little as he
headed back to the bed.

"You okay man? I mean, of course you aren't--sorry--but I mean,
what can I do for you?"

Justin sat and then kind of fell onto the bed, pulling the covers
over him. "Just stay here a while? Will you? Do you mind? I just
would feel better knowing someone was here. That you were here,
you know?"

"Yeah, I know, Just. I know. I'll be right here. All night. Don't
worry about anything."

I'm not even sure he heard all my words. He was already asleep. I
sat on the edge of the bed and allowed myself to finally touch
him--to try and sooth him, even if he was asleep. I gently ran my
hand over his shoulder and down his arm. He was soundly asleep--
tired from his ordeal and probably a little drugged from the
painkillers. As I looked at him, my vision blurred, and I
realized that my eyes were filled with tears. I would have done
anything to have kept my best friend from having to go through
this. And I was scared about what it might mean for all of us.
Justin, Chris, Joey, Lance, and . . . me.

I stood up and went to the closet to find an extra blanket. I
laid down on the couch where I'd be directly in sight if Justin
awakened during the night. I also decided that we could sleep
fine with the lamp on. I wasn't expecting to get much sleep
anyway, but almost as quickly as I got my shoes off and the
blanket spread over me, I was out.



As I awakened, I felt confused about where I was--I was still
wearing my jeans, shirt, and socks and was lying on a sofa. I
became aware of a gentle shaking of my shoulder and someone's
hand there.

"Hey Josh, sorry to wake you." It was Justin's voice. Must be
Justin's hand.

"Yeah. That's okay." Memories of the night before suddenly
flooded my mind. I opened my eyes wide. "Justin! You okay, man?
You need something?"

"No Josh. I'm okay." He was laughing lightly; I guess at my
reaction. That seemed a good sign.

As I came fully awake I could see that it must be very early
morning. Justin's face showed the bruises from his attacker's
blows. "You must be really sore."

"Yeah, a little."

"Why don't you take one of your painkillers and go back to
sleep?"

"No. We have to do the sound check and stuff today, don't we?"

"You aren't planning to sing tonight are you?"

"Sure. I have to. Anyway, better to keep busy, right?" We stared
at each other a few moments. Justin's eyes showed that he was
trying to be strong, but also revealed pain and fear behind the
strength.

"Just . . . why don't you rest today? You know it wouldn't be the
end of the world if you missed a concert."

"Hey, there are a lot of little girls out there that would think
so!" He was laughing as he said it, but the laughter struck me as
a bit hollow.

I decided to let it go for now. "So why up so early?"

"I woke up. I was afraid you might be uncomfortable."

"So you woke me to ask?" I had to laugh at that thought.

"Sorry. . . . I guess I also thought you'd want to get back to
your own room."

I looked into his eyes. My friend was all grown up in so many
ways, but still that little kid I first met so long ago--
especially at this moment. "Sure Just. I guess that makes sense."

As I got myself together and stood to leave, Justin spoke to me,
"Thanks Josh. Thanks for everything." I looked back at him and
saw that his eyes were filled with tears. Not one spilled out,
but he had to be seeing me through pretty blurred vision. I
couldn't help myself--my friend was in pain. I just grabbed him
and held him tight in a big hug. He just left his arms at his
side, inside my arms. He neither tensed up nor really relaxed
into my hug, but I think he appreciated what it meant, if not the
hug itself.

Releasing him, I told him to call if he needed anything and
headed back to my own room. I was soon in my own bed, enjoying
another hour's sleep before being awakened by the ringing of the
phone.

"Yeah," was all I grunted into the phone.

"Hey JC, it's Joey. Meeting in my room in an hour to discuss the
day. Want me to order anything for you for breakfast?"

"Yeah, thanks. Um, scrambled eggs, sausage links, whole wheat
toast, OJ."

"Got it. See you in an hour."

"Kay."



Having showered and dressed, I headed for Joey's room.

The door wasn't closed all the way, and I could hear voices while
still in the hall. I stopped for a moment to listen. "Oh great,"
I thought, "Chris is still crazy about this thing." I could hear
he was still talking about bodyguards and "killin' the guy." I
paused to see if I would hear other voices--revealing who was
already in there and if they shared Chris's opinion.

"Chris, we'll check into the bodyguards today. But enough already
about getting this guy. Unfortunately, he may never be found.
That's just the way it is. We gotta accept it. And help Justin
accept it." That was Joey.

"Why do we have to accept it? We have to do something about it!"
Chris again. Justin must not be in there yet--they wouldn't talk
like this if he were there.

"I think it's very natural to be angry about what happened to
Justin." That answers the other question. Lance IS in the room.

"It may be natural, but it may not be the most productive
response. It may not get us anywhere. And I'm still not sure it's
what's good for Justin . . . or anyone else." Joey, the
moderator. He's a good guy. Still don't quite understand some of
the looks he was giving me yesterday.

"Hey you! You spyin' on my friends?"

"Jeez Justin! You scared me to death!" How had he come up behind
me so silently?

"That look on your face! Don't make me laugh so hard--it hurts!"
He WAS laughing hard too; and cringing from pain at the same
time.

"Sorry, but I think YOU made YOU laugh! I was just the butt."

"Sorry Josh. What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Just gettin' ready to go in. Let's go."

"Hey guys!"

"Hey Justin. How ya' doin' this morning?" It was Joey who said
the words, but all three of the guys were intently watching
Justin, obviously the same question on their minds.

"Pretty good. That pill really made me sleep. I've looked
better."

"Don't worry Justin, the girls will still think you're pretty--
and now they'll want to take care of you and be all sympathetic.
They'll love you all the more!"

"Thanks, Joey; that relieves all my worries!" Justin was at least
laughing some this morning. Maybe he is better.

"I've already talked about bodyguards with our security people. I
think that's going to happen today."

"Thanks Lance."

"We still have to bug those cops! They gotta catch this guy! We
can't let him get away with this!" Chris was as agitated as ever.
I think I caught Justin cringing just a little listening to him--
or was I projecting? I have a feeling I cringed. Especially when
Chris mumbled, "Fuckin' faggot."

Talk came to an end when there was a knock on the door and
breakfast arrived. As we ate, we discussed the schedule for the
day leading up to and including the concert. None of us could
talk Justin into missing anything--even though Joey admitted he'd
love to have an excuse to miss it all. Justin did say he'd take a
nap during our afternoon break and head to bed as soon as we got
back to the hotel after the concert.



The day was pretty uneventful, just a normal *N SYNC day--at
least a normal concert day; some things went well, some went
wrong. I found myself spending as little time around Chris as
possible; not real sure why. And I realized I was also keeping an
eye on Justin. I was feeling a little protective of him. I guess
I was a little late for that.

We arrived back at the hotel for our break time. The security
team had cleared our floor--looking through all the rooms, both
the ones we had and the empty ones. We headed off the elevator,
and each one pealed off at his room until it was only Justin and
me walking down the hall.

"Have a good nap Justin," I called out to him as I got to my
door.

"I'm pretty awake from everything. I think I may go down for a
workout in the gym."

"Before a concert? You sure?"

"Yeah. I need to let off some energy."

"Oh, and singing and dancing for ninety minutes straight doesn't
do that for you?"

"I JUST FEEL LIKE WORKING OUT, OKAY?" It was so strange for
Justin to use such an angry tone with me--with anyone. His eyes
almost instantly went from fury to embarrassment. "Hey man,
sorry."

As I was about to answer, Joey's door flew open, and he came out
into the hall. "What's going on? I heard yelling."

"Nothing. Everything's all right. I'm just not myself. JC was
just acting worried about me and I was a jerk about it."

I watched Justin as he gave his explanation. He was looking at
Joey.

"Well, okay, if everything is all right."

"Yeah, Joey, everything is fine." I realized that the words
didn't come out of my mouth very believably, but I guess I'm not
very convincing when I'm lying. "I'm going to take a nap." I
didn't wait for an answer, I just headed into my room and laid
down to toss and turn on the bed for an hour.



After "napping," I got ready for the concert and headed out into
the hall to see if anyone else was ready. I found Lance and Joey
standing around not really talking, just kind of hanging.

"Hey guys."

"Hey JC. How're you doin'?" Why did Joey keep asking me that?

"Perfect. Ready for a perfect show!"

"Perfect, huh? Wow, I'd like to feel perfect sometime!"

"Now Joey, I'm sure you feel pretty close to perfect, don't you?"

"Yeah, whatever. . . . What was up with you and Justin before?"

"Oh nothing. I guess I was being a little overly protective. He
was going to go work out instead of resting before the concert."

"WORK OUT?" Lance asked. "Where did all that energy come from?"

"That was what I thought--and asked. And I guess I asked one too
many times. Guess he doesn't want to be taken care of right now."

"He's been through a lot. I can't imagine what it would be like.
I guess we just have to let him get through it and hope he
doesn't hurt him--" Joey cut himself off mid-sentence as Justin's
door opened down the hall.

"So where's Chris?" I said as quickly as possible to try and hide
the fact that we stopped our discussion so abruptly.

"Hey Justin, bang on Chris's door as you come past it," Joey
called down the hall to Justin.



The concert went off with not too many problems. I doubt any of
the fans could tell a difference. We could tell that Justin was
off just a little--or at least I could tell. And he could tell.
He was obviously pissed with himself whenever we were off stage.
But considering how badly he had been beaten, it was amazing.

The makeup people had to hover around to keep his bruises hidden,
touching him up every chance they got. That didn't help his
concentration. But after the concert he was the first one into
the room to meet the fans who had won back-stage passes. He smiled,
chatted, and signed his name to whatever was pushed in front of
him. But his eyes looked so tired. So--what? Hurt? Lost? It
wasn't the usual Justin.

We were all tired, physically and emotionally by the time we got
back to the hotel. We didn't even talk about doing anything but
heading for bed, all saying good night in the hall. A few minutes
later my phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Josh, um, it's Justin. . . . Um, I was just wondering, um . . ."

"Just, you want me to come over for a while?"

"Would you? I mean, if you aren't too tired?"

"No problem, man. Over in a minute."

This time I changed into some sweats before going over. I figured
if I was going to spend another night on that sofa, it wasn't
going to be in my jeans.

I knocked softly on the door. It opened to reveal an embarrassed
looking Justin. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I guess I just was feelin' a little crazy by myself."

"That's okay--it makes sense, you know?"

"I feel stupid."

"Why? It's like in those movies, you know? Post-something stress
or whatever. You gotta give yourself some time. . . . That's why
I was worried about you this afternoon; I just didn't want you to
push yourself too hard too fast. You have to heal--your body and
your mind, you know?"

"I'm sorry I yelled at you man." The words were directed to me,
but Justin's eyes were on the carpet between us.

"No problem man--I yell for a lot less reason!" I laughed lightly
and was rewarded by Justin's smile as he looked up at my face. My
turn to feel embarrassed. "So . . . why don't you get in bed.
I'll just lie down on the sofa. If you feel like talking, okay;
or if you go to sleep, that's okay too."

"Thanks man--I really mean it Josh--thanks! Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . I know."

Like they always say in books, I think he was asleep before his
head hit the pillow. Certainly before I had made my way to the
sofa. I walked over to the bed and pulled the sheet and blanket
up and around him, and again, I couldn't resist placing my hand
on his shoulder and kind of holding it through the blanket and
stuff. I then shocked myself by leaning over and kissing his
forehead. Whew! What was I thinking? I mean, it was just like you
would do if you were putting a little kid to bed, but still. Glad
he was really asleep.

Poor guy. He must be beyond tired. And didn't even take one of
his pills--I don't think. "Hope he'll be better tomorrow," I
thought and headed for my "bed." It was a nice long sofa, anyway.



Once again, Justin awakened me before we would have regularly
been getting up. His hand was gentle but insistent as he shook me
awake.

"Hey."

"Hey," he said, again looking embarrassed.

"I better go get a shower."

"Kay."

"See you later."

"Thanks Josh."

"No prob, man--you're my bud."

"You too."

I went and fell in my bed--my REAL bed--for another hour's sleep.
I wondered how long this might go on but remembered that tonight
after the concert we got right on the bus. Justin would have all
of us around when he slept tonight.

I didn't mind sleeping over in his room. He's my best friend; I'd
do anything to make him feel better. But I just wish I had the
feeling he was getting better--doing what he needed to do. I
wished he'd talk to me.



Since it was the second concert at the same venue, the day was a
pretty light one with plenty of free time. I had decided to hang
around my room and catch up on some e-mail with family and
friends. I also hoped to get in another nap--let's just say that
sofa sleeping isn't as good as bed sleeping.

In the early afternoon, my phone rang. "Hello."

"Hey Josh. Doin' anything?"

"Nope not really. Was just finishing up some e-mail and stuff.
That's all. Sup?"

"I was wanting to go to the gym. I didn't go yesterday. Well,
actually I did go, but I didn't work out."

"Got smart and decided I was right huh?" I tried to joke with
him.

"Not exactly. I got down there and there wasn't anyone else
around."

"That sounds great--but what? Oh, you don't like to work out
without someone spotting you? They have free weights?"

"Um, no. . . . I went in the locker room, and, um . . . oh hell.
It reminded me too much of a restroom, okay? It reminded me of
THAT restroom." After his initial hesitation, he had spit out the
last two sentences almost too fast for me to understand. And even
when I did understand the words, it took me a couple seconds to
get the full meaning.

"Oh man. Sorry. But it's good you could realize it. It'll help
you deal with it, you know?"

"Yeah, right," he said, with a less-than-sincere laugh, "I dealt
with it--I RAN to the elevator, punched the button almost until
it was broken, and then ran from the elevator back to my room. . . .
I did end up sleeping some, which I probably needed more anyway."

"Sorry Just. Hey, you wanna head down to the gym now? I'm feelin'
like a workout too." Gee, that lie almost sounded like the truth;
I guess when it means enough, I can lie believably.

"Really? Would you go with me? I think all the other guys are out
shopping or something."

"No prob, man. Give me five and I'll knock on your door."

"Great! See ya." And he hung up.

"Oh well," I thought, "I can use a workout--even if sleep sounds
much more attractive."



We'd been in the gym for about forty-five minutes; I was beat.
I'd worked out with Justin plenty of times. He always pushed
himself--and whoever was with him. But today there seemed to be
an even stronger determination to push himself harder and harder.
And little concern about what I was doing. Considering he had
been in the emergency room just thirty-six hours earlier with
some pretty serious bruises and cuts, I thought he was pushing
too hard.

"Justin, take a break man! Don't you think you've done enough for
one day? Remember we have a concert tonight."

"You don't have to keep goin'. I just want to do one more rep.
We won't have a gym tomorrow. Hey, think we could get one of
those soloflex or bowflex things on the bus?"

"NO! Jeez, as if it's not crowded enough on there. Anyway, aren't
you supposed to take a day off between workouts?"

"Yeah, whatever. I'm just ready to do some serious building up. I
need to get with a trainer."

"You already worked with that one, didn't you? Didn't he teach
you exercises and stuff?"

"Yeah, but I was wanting to stay slim then--just tight muscles.
Now I'm thinking I might like to bulk up some. Hey, maybe I could
look like 98 Degrees!" He laughed, but I could tell the idea was
pretty attractive to him. What was really going on here?

"You really want to be that bulky? You know they don't really do
that much dancin' and stuff--you might have some trouble being
bulked up that much and still dancin'."

"Not if I do both at the same time. I'll develop both sets of
muscles. I don't have to lose my quickness."

"Whatever, man; I just don't get it."

"Just one more rep, then we can go. Okay?"

"Sure Just. Whatever you want."

We finished up and headed up to our rooms to clean up--going our
separate ways when we reached the door to my room.



On the ride to the concert venue, the five of us were together
for the first time all day.

"Justin, did you hear from those cops today?" Great. Chris was
not going to let this one die.

"Nope."

"Well are you going to call them? I mean, we leave town tonight.
Don't you want to know what's going on with them? See if
anything's happened?" Chris persisted.

"You heard them. Nothing is going to happen." Justin sounded
dejected as he answered Chris. It pissed me off that Chris had
brought Justin down again. The workout might have been rougher
than I thought it should be, but it did seem to lift his spirits.
I realized I was staring a hole through Chris--though he was
unaware of it as he looked at Justin. I pulled my eyes away to
find Joey staring at me. There was that look again--something
like an apology. What's with him?

"I still think you should call them when we get to the arena.
Remind them we're leaving. Make sure they have the numbers to
reach us."

"They have them. I gave them all the information--our cell
numbers, our itinerary, everything," Joey reminded Chris.

"Well, I for one still think they should be reminded about the
case and told again that we want them to do something about it."
Chris was agitated again. He was really bothered by all this.
Couldn't understand what his problem was. I mean, I cared about
the attack. But I was more interested in concentrating on
Justin's getting better than finding some guy to kill.

"I don't think I have the number with me," Justin muttered.

"I have it," Lance said, "Joey gave me the cops' cards." Lance,
the organized one; he loved details. "Want me to call, Just?"

"Um, yeah Lance, that would be great. Thanks." Justin threw a
glance at Chris. I think he was actually worried that Chris might
not approve of his not calling himself. Before any more
conversation could occur, we arrived at the arena.



After the concert, we cleaned up and headed out to the waiting
bus. This was never easy, trying to come down from a concert
while squeezed together on the bus. Lance somehow had no problem
heading straight for his bunk to sleep. The rest of us went to
the back. Joey had picked up the video for "The Matrix" and
suggested we watch that. We'd all seen it in the theater, but
liked it and agreed. We started rummaging for snacks before
starting the video.

"So did Lance talk to the cops?" I started thinking I wanted
Chris gagged. I tried to tell myself that he was just concerned
for Justin, but I was getting really tired of his "concern."

"Yeah. Nothing new. He made sure they knew how to contact us.
They said they'd e-mail the file and information to the cops in
the next town--in case something happens there . . . ." Justin's
voice just sort of faded out.

"Well, don't worry, nothing is going to happen there. If we go
anywhere, it'll be with bodyguards 24/7!" Chris promised.

Joey returned from the front of the bus carrying the video. To
try and lighten the mood, I told the guys of Justin's bowflex
idea. "Hey guys, what do ya think? Justin thought we should add a
bowflex to the bus so we could work out on the road!" I smiled
broadly as I told them the idea.

Justin didn't seem to appreciate my telling them. Joey had
something of a worried look on his face. Chris smiled and said,
"Great idea!"

"Great idea? When have you ever worried about working out?" Joey
asked.

"That was a low blow! I work out--sometimes. Maybe I would with
something on the bus."

"You could have joined us in the hotel gym today," I told him.

"You worked out today Justin? You really feelin' up to that?"
Joey was again concerned for Justin.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It felt good. Back in a minute--gotta hit the
john."

After Justin disappeared down the hall, I told them, "He really
pushed himself. I couldn't keep up."

"You aren't motivated the same way he is."

"What do you mean, Chris?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from
showing the anger that had been building up toward him over the
past couple days.

"I mean you aren't scared. You aren't thinking about building up
to be ready for the next time someone attacks you."

Oh jeez--was that it? Was that why Justin was trying so hard and
pushing himself so much? It made sense. Did he think that he
needed to be stronger? That if he were bigger that he might have
gotten the guy?

Justin came back from the bathroom and looked at me strangely.
"What up Josh? You look all worried or somethin'."

"Huh? Oh just thinking."

"Hey man, don't strain yourself so much!" Justin laughed at his
own joke as I tried to smile back at him, but I was sure it
wasn't a very convincing smile.

"Let's get this video going," Joey said as he pushed the play
button on the remote. We all sat back to watch. I was glad it
wasn't my first time see the movie; I don't think I was
concentrating on it enough to understand it if I hadn't already
seen it.



The next day, the bus took us directly to the arena for sound
check and to get used to the facilities. As we got off the bus,
our usual security guys came to meet us and introduced us to five
extra guys hired to be with us during our two day stay.

As we walked toward the stage, I couldn't help but ask, "FIVE
extra security guards? Is that really necessary? I mean maybe one
or two--maybe one to follow Curly around, but five?"

"I talked it over with the security guys, told them we really
wanted Justin and everyone else to feel safe. I okayed it without
talking to the rest of you guys," Lance said.

"It may be overkill, but as long as they stay out of the way,
they shouldn't interfere with us and won't be a problem for
regular fans. But anyone wanting to cause trouble will notice
them. That's the point. Just to show that they're around." Joey
being sensible again, I guess--and trying to see all sides at
once.

"Well, I think it's good. I hope that psycho shows up and they
rip him apart," Chris almost yelled.

"WHAT IS WITH YOU? You keep wanting to kill someone or rip
someone apart. Why do you keep talking like this?" No one was any
more surprised by my outburst than I was. Everyone stopped still
and just stared at me. "Sorry, but I'm just kind of tired of all
the screaming and calling for blood."

"Well, SORRY. I would've thought you'd want blood too. Look what
he did to Justin! He's YOUR best friend. Don't you want the guy
caught?"

I looked from Chris to Justin whose face wasn't easy to read. It
looked scared, hurt, apologetic all at once, but he was also still
trying to look strong. "Justin . . . I didn't mean that I don't
want the guy caught. It's just that Chris has been yelling for
three days now. I'm just tired of it. I don't see the point of
yelling all the time. It just seems like we can't get past this.
But whatever makes you feel better, Just. We can have fifty
guards if it'll make you feel better." I hoped that my face
showed how sincere I was--how concerned.

Justin--sweet Justin--gave me a little half smile. "It's okay
Josh. I know what you meant."

"Let's go get whatever we have to do done so we can get to the
hotel." Good old Joey.



That evening seemed like a normal concert night--Justin seemed to
be pretty close to his normal self. He was even joking around
with us all. If it was the extra guards that had him more
relaxed, I was happy to have them.

As usual, we had a "meet and greet" with about forty fans, this
time before the concert. The room where it was held was really
too small. Someone messed up--we always have larger rooms for
crowds this big. And we didn't have a table to be behind or
anything. It felt really exposed, like we were just in a crowd.
But all the fans were really polite and seemed to be trying to
respect our space. Once the initial screaming stopped, they
formed into lines to come up and say hi and get an autograph or
whatever; the usual thing--except we were just standing there
with them.

About halfway through the crowd, I saw a guy approaching. It was
a little unusual for a guy to be in line to talk to us--not
totally strange, but unusual. I was the first group member in
line, so I got each person first, and when he got to me, just
like the girls before him, he gave me a hug. I was surprised by
this, but tried not to act like I minded. I mean, what the hell,
right? I'm hugging all these girls all day--that doesn't mean
anything, so why should this be a problem? When he pulled back,
he said his name was Peter and that he had something for us. He
pulled up a poster with all our faces on it--but drawn in pen and
ink. It was really beautiful.

"Wow, Peter, did you do this?" I asked as I admired the poster.

"Yeah, I did. It's for you guys! I mean, if you want it." He was
so excited, but also seemed a little shy.

"Yeah, man! It's really great. I can't believe how well you did
everyone. We're all perfect!" I loved encouraging the guy. He
really was an artist. "How old are you, Peter?"

"Fourteen."

"You are really a great artist. I hope you plan to study and do
this all your life."

"Yeah, that's my dream."

"Hey Joey, look at this!" I turned to Joey who had just freed
himself from the girl in line before Peter. "Isn't it great?
Peter did it. Um, this is Peter."

"Wow. Wish we looked that good!" Joey had a way of knowing just
what to say to make someone feel good--even strangers.

"Could I get you guys to sign my CD for me?"

"Deal--if you sign your art!" I said, handing him the pen first.

"Yeah sure! I can't believe you guys like it!"

"Why? It's great!" Joey told him.

We finished our signing, and Peter reached out and hugged Joey--
catching him as off guard as he had me, but Joey didn't let him
know it. I carefully placed the poster behind me, standing it up
against the wall.

Instead of turning back to the next person in line, I watched as
Justin finished with the girl ahead of Peter. Just as Justin
turned toward Peter, Peter rushed toward him--after Joey and I
had praised his art, he was even more excited than when he
greeted me. Just as I was about to turn away, I saw a change in
Justin's face. He looked panicked. His face went white. He
stumbled backward as if he was trying to run from Peter. In the
process, he knocked over a water cooler--the big bottle on top
coming loose and water going all over the floor. Justin fell back
losing his balance more, hitting his head against the wall, and
coming to rest on his butt on the floor. He wasn't unconscious,
but he was dazed. I looked up to see Peter's face full of fear
and tears brimming in his eyes. Joey and Lance rushed to Justin.
Security guards came from both sides to see what was happening. I
saw Chris going toward Peter--and I headed there too.

"What the hell did you do to him? HUH?" Chris yelled right in
Peter's face causing the kid to look even more frightened.

"Back off Chris," I barked, putting my arm around Peter's
shoulders. I turned with him to take him away from the area--for
his sake as well as Justin's.

"Hey wait. I want to know what he did to Justin!" Chris was
nothing if not persistent.

"He did nothing! I was watching the whole time. He did nothing!
He must have just reminded Justin of something. Now SHUT UP!"

I walked Peter toward the door, passing the crowd of stunned
fans, and out into the back hall that lead to the dressing room
area. "Listen Peter, nobody but us guys know about it, but Justin
had a really bad thing happen to him this past week. He's really
trying to be strong, but he's really shaky. And I don't know what
happened, but somehow you must have reminded him of it. It's
really not your fault, okay?"

As Peter sniffled, Arnie, one of our security guys came up next
to us. I still had my arm around the kid's shoulders. "Hey JC,
um, do you know this guy?"

"His name is Peter. He's just a fan that came to the concert. I
don't know what got to Justin, but you know this isn't . . . THE
guy--so what's the big deal?"

"I'm afraid we still have to ask him to leave."

I could feel Peter really shaking as he sobbed. "Arnie! Why?"

"Bill sent me to take care of it. He talked to the guys and that
was the decision."

"Oh great! I guess I don't get a vote in this."

"Sorry JC. I don't know. They just don't feel they can take the
risk of anything else happening."

"Like what's going to happen?"

"I don't know. Maybe Justin might see him during the concert or
something."

"Arnie, we can't see people that clearly from the stage--I doubt
he's in the front row or anything."

"Listen JC, I don't make these decisions. That's what I was told
to do."

"I--I--I can leave," Peter said between sobs.

"I'm really sorry, Peter," I tried to sooth him. "You did nothing
wrong. I'm so sorry your evening is ruined. This is SO unfair!"

"Can--Can I call my mom to come and get me?"

"I'll get you to a phone, kid; come with me."

"HIS NAME IS PETER!" As soon as I said it, I was sorry. "Sorry
Arnie--it's just I hate this happening like this. Listen Peter,
before you go, write down your name and address and phone number
for me--okay?"

"Huh? Okay. Sure."

"Arnie, you got a pen and some paper?"

"Sure JC."

"Here Peter. Write it here." He did, and I carefully put the
paper in my pocket after making sure I could read it all--his
hand looked pretty shaky.

"Thanks again for the art, man. I'm really, really sorry about
everything else."

"Thanks. Thanks for everything." He looked like his tears were
only barely contained, but I hoped he'd be okay. I grabbed him
into a tight hug, patted his back, then pushed him away and
toward Arnie. They disappeared down the hall, as I turned to face
the others. I opened the door to see the room deserted except for
the four guys and three security guards. Justin was sitting in a
chair, as was Joey; Lance was just standing, and Chris was pacing
again.

"How are you Justin?" I asked as I approached them. He looked up
at me still looking confused. "Has a doctor been in here?" I asked.

"There's one on the way," Joey answered.

"Did Arnie get rid of that little faggot?" Chris spit in my
direction.

I whirled around to face him. I felt like I must have looked like
one of those carton characters with steam coming out of my ears.
"What are you talking about? Why do you call him a faggot?"

"Well he is! And he tried to grab Justin or whatever." Chris was
yelling back at me as loudly as I had yelled at him.

"He's gone, okay? You won't have to see him again. But he did
NOTHING wrong! Justin might have been startled, but it wasn't
Peter's fault! He was a nice kid. He even brought us a poster he
had drawn. He's a real artist! And no fault of his, his night is
ruined and he has to go home and miss the concert!" I suddenly
thought to look for the poster. I saw it still on the floor, but
I could tell it had gotten wet from the spilled water.

As I went to save the poster, I heard Chris muttering behind me.
"How sweet! An artist! And into *N SYNC! Hope his parents don't
want grandchildren!" Chris started laughing at his own words. I
was so angry I couldn't trust myself to even look at him for fear
of saying or doing something that would have permanent
consequences.

As I retrieved the poster and let the water run off of it, I
could see that it was damaged. As sorry as I was that Peter's
hard work had been messed up, I took some small pleasure in the
fact that it was Chris's face that was most damaged.

I found some paper towels and tried to pat the poster dry. I
looked around the room to see Lance looking worried--and now
leaning against the wall; Joey giving me that sympathetic,
apologetic look AGAIN and still sitting next to Justin; and
Justin sitting with his eyes closed. I took Peter's poster and
made my way out the door and down to the dressing room. I
carefully placed the art where it wouldn't be damaged--and Chris
wouldn't see it.

By the time I got back to the room with the others, a doctor was
checking Justin. Lance filled him in on what had happened earlier
in the week. The decision was made that we'd start the show without
Justin; he'd join us if he felt better later in the evening. We
delayed the show about forty-five minutes, letting our opening
act go on late and stay on longer; it gave us time to work
through some things to cover Justin's absence.

After the delay though, as we were preparing to go on stage,
Justin came down the hall from the dressing room in costume.

"What are you doing?" I called to him.

"I'm doing a show," he said, as he gave me a pretty believable
smile.

"Are you really up to it Curly? The doctor okay it?" Joey asked.

"Yeah. He said there's no sign of concussion from my attacking
the wall with my head, and I can go as long as I feel like it. I
won't screw up guys, if I start feeling like I'm going to mess
up, I'll leave the stage."

"Cool." Well, I was glad we had Chris's approval.

As we stacked hands, I made sure mine did not touch Chris's; and
as we did our little hugs before going on stage, I just turned
away from him. I don't think anyone noticed. Not even sure he
did.



The show went remarkably well. Justin stuck it out to the end. We
had the doctor check him over again after the concert, and he
didn't think it had hurt him any to perform, but he strongly
recommended that Justin go straight to bed and sleep as late as
possible the next morning.

The ride back to the hotel was pretty quiet. I was just thankful
to not have to hear anything more out of Chris. Joey saw me
carrying the poster and started to ask if it was Peter's, but I
gave him a look saying yes and be quiet. He seemed to understand
and not be offended.

At the hotel, we quickly dispersed to our rooms. I didn't wait
for Justin to call me, I called him.

"Hello?"

"Hey Just. Could I come over and talk? I need to talk about the
kid. You up to it?"

"Um, sure, Josh. Are you really angry with me?"

"NO! I'm not angry with YOU! No Just--really. But I would like
you to understand the whole thing. And maybe for me to understand
what happened--if you want to talk about it."

"Yeah. See you soon."

I again changed into my sweats before going over--not sure that
I'd be sleeping on a sofa, but ready in case.

Justin opened the door right after my soft knock. "Come on in
Josh."

"How you feelin' Just--I mean, really?"

"My head hurts a lot--got a big bump on the back."

"Yeah? And otherwise?"

"Okay--getting better."

"You looked like you were in shock after you fell tonight."

"I guess I sort of was--until the doctor came and was examining
me."

"Just, what happened? I mean, what did Peter do? He really is a
nice kid. I brought the art he did to show you."

"Art? What art?"

"Here. He did this poster of us. It got wet from the water cooler
spilling, but not all of it. It's really good, huh?"

"Wow. He did this? He's really good, huh?" I wondered how Justin
could tell--since his eyes were suddenly full of tears.

"Hey Just--you okay?"

"No . . . I can't believe how scared I was tonight! And I'm not
even sure why. I mean the kid was just a kid! I think it was
looking up and being so surprised that he was coming toward me
and that it was a guy and he also had on black--he had on a black
sweater. Remember? That guy had on a black sweater."

The tears were slowly rolling down his face. He used his sleeves
to wipe them away.

"I'm really sorry Just."

"I'm really sorry for the kid. What happened to him?"

"Arnie took him away to call his mom--he had to get a ride home."

"He left?"

"You didn't know? They threw him out!"

"Oh God, NO! Oh man, he did all this work and he must really love
the group and stuff and then he didn't even get to hear the
concert?"

"NO! I was so pissed, but I couldn't do anything. I tried."

"Now I really feel bad. Oh man, he must be hurting so much!"

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of."

"I wish we could get in touch with him. You think a radio station
or something could help us?"

"I got his phone number."

"You did? That's great! We could call him! Get him into
tomorrow's concert! We can do that, can't we Josh?"

"Sure man. That would be great. I'd really like that. He was such
a sweet kid, you know? So open. Really cool."

"I wish I had met him--I mean I . . ."

"I know Just. I know. Listen, you should get to bed. Remember
what the doctor said. I'll call Peter in the morning and make the
arrangements."

"I want to call him with you--okay?"

"Sure, if you feel up to it."

"I will." Justin went to the bed and pulled down the covers. "Um,
Josh, you don't have to stay here tonight." He said it quietly
and looked at me kind of embarrassed like--but also kind of like
he was asking for something.

"What if I want to stay? You going to throw me out? You going to
make me go back to that lonely room over there?" I smiled as I
asked him and was rewarded with a smile in return.

"Cool. You know, Josh, you're about the best friend a guy could
have. I'm lucky. Thanks."

"Well, just trying to be as good a friend as you are man."

"Thanks."

"Night."

"Night."



The next morning, I awakened before Justin. I used hotel
stationery to leave a big note for him that I was going to shower
and then come back to call Peter. I also noted that I had taken
his key card to let myself back into his room.

While showering, I thought about Peter, worrying about how he
must be feeling and hoping that we could get in touch with him. I
finished and let myself back into Justin's room. He wasn't in his
bed; then I heard the toilet flush, and he came out of the
bathroom.

"Morning Curly!"

"Hey Josh. We gonna call Peter? Is it late enough?"

"Yeah it's about 7:45; I have no idea when he goes to school or
whatever. I think it's late enough to try. Just hope he's not
already left."

Justin had walked over and was holding Peter's artwork and really
studying it.

"Good huh?"

"Yeah. Must have taken him a really long time!"

"We going to call together--I mean be on the phone at the same
time--or one then the other? I mean there's a phone by the bed
and one on the desk."

"You start and then I can pick up the other one. That okay?"

"Yeah. That works."

I picked up the phone and dialed the number Peter had written
down.

"Hello?" It was a woman's voice. I glanced at Justin as I
realized I wasn't prepared to talk to Peter's mother. What would
she think of us?

"Hello, ma'am. Is Peter available?" I asked.

"Who's calling, please?"

"My name is Joshua Chasez. I sing with the group *N SYNC. We had
a really unfortunate misunderstanding last night with Peter, and
we wanted to try and make it up to him by getting tickets to him
for tonight's show."

There was a pause. "I'm really not clear on what happened last
night, but I know that my son was really upset. He had been
looking forward to this concert so much. He made a poster--worked
on it for hours and hours. He was so proud of it. He wouldn't
tell me what happened. All I know is that I got a call on the car
phone when I was about halfway home that I needed to turn around
and come and get him. I guess most parents would assume that
their child had done something wrong, but I know Peter. Whatever
happened was not his fault. And as I said, he refused to talk
about it. He was so upset. I could hear him crying after he went
to bed. This morning he was sleeping soundly so I turned off his
alarm and just let him sleep. He's a good student; it won't hurt
him to miss a day of school."

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. um, Mrs. Thornton, is it?"

"Yes. Eileen Thornton."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Thornton. I'm afraid Peter was caught up in
something that he had no control over and that he wasn't the
least bit responsible for. This information hasn't been released
to the media in any way, but I believe we can trust you. One of
the other singers--and my best friend, Justin, had a really bad
experience this week." I looked at Justin who was still staring
at the artwork, then just closed his eyes. I hated talking about
him like this--and especially right in front of him. He opened
his eyes and looked at me. I raised my eyebrows in question to
him. He just nodded slightly and closed his eyes again. "You see,
Justin was attacked. And he's been really strong and continued
working, but it's been a really difficult ordeal. You can
imagine, I'm sure. Anyway, for whatever reason, Peter caught
Justin off guard last night and something reminded Justin of the
attack. It wasn't Peter's fault at all, but it just happened.
Justin feels so bad about it. We really want to make this up to
Peter. He seems like a really great kid. And a really talented
artist. I hope he pursues his art."

"He is a good kid. He's a very good kid. I'm sorry about your
friend--and even sorrier that it resulted in Peter getting hurt
too. I just wish I knew if it would be better for him to go
tonight or just to try and forget about it. Wait."

"What's going on?" Justin whispered to me across the room.

"Not sure, she said to wait a minute. She seems hesitant about
letting us talk to him," I whispered back, even though I had my
hand over the phone.

"Um, I'm sorry, what is your name?" Mrs. Thornton asked through
the phone.

"Josh--Joshua Chasez."

"Well Mr. Chasez," as she said my name, I heard a squeal in the
background. "It seems that Peter would like to talk to you. He
said that you were very kind to him last night and very worried
about him."

"Like I said, ma'am, we are really sorry and want to make it up
to Peter."

"Okay, here he is."

"Hello?" Peter's voice sounded very hesitant but at the same time
very excited.

"Peter! Man, I'm so glad I could talk to you! How are you doin'?"

"I'm okay."

"Listen Peter, we're really sorry about last night. It was just a
horrible misunderstanding and accident, you know? Justin and I
were talking about it last night and want you to come to the
concert tonight. Can you do that? WILL you do that? We'd really
appreciate it!"

"I could really come tonight?"

"Yes please, we'd really like you to." I looked over to see
Justin walking toward the desk. He looked at me and raised his
eyebrows. I nodded. "Um, Peter? Justin is going to get on the
line with us."

"Hey Peter, this is Justin. Man, I don't know how to tell you how
sorry I am about last night. I mean I really messed up, and you
got hurt in the process. I'm really sorry. I hope it will make up
for things a little bit if we get some tickets to you for
tonight."

"Um, sure. That would be great. Um, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Peter, I'm okay--or getting there, anyway. Thanks for
asking. How about you?"

"I'm okay. I was really sorry to not see you guys sing."

"Yeah, I wish you had. But will you come tonight? Do you have
friends that could come too? Or your mom?"

I looked at Justin and smiled. He was doing well with Peter. I
could tell it was hard on him--hard to realize that his own pain
had caused pain for someone else.

"My mom would probably come--she's kind of worried about this
whole thing, I think."

"Great. Does she like our music?" Justin asked in kind of a
conspiratorial whisper.

"Yeah, I think so," Peter whispered back. "I've been playing
'Music of My Heart' a lot since I got it last week. She likes
that one a lot. I heard her singing along with it," Peter kind of
giggled as he told on his mom.

"Is that your favorite too?" Justin asked.

"Yeah. It's way cool! How do you do it without Gloria?"

"We just have to break up the parts a little differently, but it
still sounds good."

"Oh, I'm sure!"

"Hey Peter? Josh showed me your artwork. Man you are great! It's
so good!" Justin was being really sweet to the kid. It made me
smile.

"Really? You like it?"

"Yeah man! I'm going to make sure we don't lose this. When you're
famous someday we'll be able to show that we have one of your
first pieces!"

Peter giggled. "Yeah, right!"

"I mean it man! It's good. Right Josh?"

"Yeah Peter. We were talking about it last night and again this
morning. You really have a lot of talent."

"Thanks."

"Listen Peter, why don't we arrange everything. We'll even have a
car pick you up--will it be just your mom and you? Anyone else?"

"Yeah, that would be all, I think."

"Okay. How long does it take to get from your house to the
arena?"

"Like forty-five minutes or so."

"Okay, then we'll have a car pick you up about 5:00. Your mom
won't even have to drive. Door-to-door service! And the best
seats we can find for you, okay?"

"Great! Thanks guys."

"No Peter, thank you for forgiving us and coming tonight." It was
Justin speaking to Peter again. "Thanks for forgiving me."

"Oh, um, yeah, sure. . . . Um, Justin?"

"Yeah Peter?"

"Um, I'm really sorry that something bad happened to you. You
guys are really great. Nothing bad should ever happen to you."

I looked over at Justin and saw that the tears had started again.
I almost started crying myself.

"Thanks Peter," Justin managed to just whisper it loud enough for
Peter to hear.

"We'll see you tonight, okay Peter?" I asked.

"Great. Thanks a lot!"

"Okay. Listen, let me talk to your mom a minute, okay?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Hello?"

"Hi Mrs. Thornton. Peter has been good enough to say he would
come to our concert tonight. I hope that is all right with you?"

"Yes, he seems very excited about it."

"We're going to send a car to be there at 5:00 with two tickets--
he thought you would come with him; will you?"

"I think I'd feel better if I were with him tonight."

"Good, I'm glad. Would you be able to use more tickets?"

She hesitated for a moment, perhaps she was looking at Peter for
the answer. "Um, no, just the two tickets."

"Fine. Well, I look forward to meeting you tonight, Mrs.
Thornton. Thank you for being so understanding."

"Thank you. I think you've really cheered Peter up. Bye."

"Bye."

Justin and I hung up the two phones.

"That felt good," I said.

"Yeah. What a great kid. He was so nice about it all!"

"You were good too, Just. Thanks."

"I'm just glad we could do it. You going to call and arrange
everything?"

"Yeah. Why don't you go back to sleep for a while?"

"Yeah, I might. I want to work out later too."

That worried me a little bit, but I decided not to push it for
now. "Let me know when you are going, I'll tag along if you don't
mind." At least I could watch him and make sure he didn't overdo
too much.

"Sure, no problem."



Out in the hall I decided to let Joey know about Peter coming to
the concert. Joey answered his door almost the second I knocked.
"Whew. Hanging on the door hoping someone would come and visit?"

Joey laughed that wonderfully infectious laugh. "No, was just
heading out to find out what everybody was doin'."

"Can I come in a minute. Wanna tell you about somethin'."

"Sure."

Inside Joey landed back on his unmade bed and I parked on the
sofa. "Remember that kid Peter? Duh, of course you remember
Peter. Anyway, when we got back here last night Justin and I
talked about it all. He didn't even know the kid had been thrown
out. And I showed him the poster and all. Anyway, we decided to
call him today and invite him to be our guest at the concert
tonight. And we did--and we talked to his mom--who wasn't very
happy with us--and with Peter--and now I have to call and arrange
everything, but we told him we'd send a car to pick them up--him
and his mother. I don't think she'd let him go alone again."

"Cool."

"Yeah. Justin talked to him on the phone some. I tried to explain
some of it to the mother without getting too specific and stuff.
So you are cool about it right? I mean, we didn't say anything
about the meet and greet--just tickets to the show and the ride.
I don't really think we want him back there to relive last night--
for anyone's sake!"

"Yeah. Once was enough on that one."

"So you are cool with it right? I'm glad. Justin really felt so
bad for the kid when he found out what had happened."

"You should talk to Lance. He's been in touch with all the people
at the arena and stuff. And make sure the security people know. I
doubt they'd notice him or recognize him, but just in case, you
know? We don't want him thrown out two days in a row! I don't
know what we'd have to do then to make it up to him!"

"Yeah. I'll go talk to Lance now--see if he has the numbers and
stuff."

"You going to tell Chris?" Joey asked the question with a strange
look on his face--almost conspiratorial.

"I haven't exactly been spending a lot of time talking to Chris
the last few days."

"Ha! That's one way of putting it. Actually, you guys HAVE been
talking to each other--or yelling at each other!" Joey seemed
amused by the whole thing.

"Well he's being an ass. What's his problem? I mean he'd like to
ban all males from our concerts--or just shoot them at the gate.
I mean, nothing happened to him!"

"No, gotta disagree with you there, man. When something happens
to one of us, it happens to all of us. You can't tell me that you
weren't hurting the other night when you saw Justin. And ever
since when you realize how he's feeling. Or you sit and watch him
sleep each night."

"What? You knew about that?"

"Yeah. Heard the door and then heard voices through the wall. And
I didn't hear you leave."

"He just seemed to feel better knowing someone was in the room."

"Yeah. And you felt better being there. That's how you're dealing
with it. Chris is dealing with it a little more weirder, but it's
how he's dealing with it."

"But it's no good for Justin to hear Chris screaming all the time
and stuff."

"And no good for you either, huh?"

I had been staring at a cushion I was holding in my hands, but
jerked my head up to look at Joey when he said that. "What do you
mean?"

"Just that it really seems to upset you when Chris goes on one of
his tirades. You know he doesn't really mean it. He's just
letting off steam."

"I guess. It just seems like he's so full of HATE."

"Yeah. But he's not really. He doesn't know what else to do. He
can't sit and watch Justin sleep--Justin wouldn't ask him; Justin
wouldn't let him; and Chris would never think of it anyway. So he
has to let out the feelings somehow."

"Yeah, I guess. You telling me to be easier on him?"

"No. Not necessarily. Just wanted to tell you what I think is
going on--with Chris."

"Thanks Joey. I guess I better head over to Lance's and get this
thing settled for tonight."

As I walked over to the door, there was a knock. I opened the
door to see Chris waiting. "Oh, Joey here?"

"Yeah. I was just leaving." I could feel that a smile was forming
on my face. I actually was loving this. "Have a good day, Chris!"
I almost chirped! As soon as I was out of the door, I closed it
and then stood close to listen. I didn't hear anything for a minute
or so and was about to give up when I heard Chris scream "WHAT?"
That did it! I started giggling like a little girl!

Just then Lance opened his door across the hall and looked at me
like I had lost my mind. "What's up, JC?"

Controlling my laughter, I walked toward him saying, "Nothin' Lance. But I need
to talk to you about something for tonight."



When we gathered to go to the arena that afternoon, I could see
that Chris was not happy with me. I didn't really care, but I
wished he'd get over it. Before the concert, I again avoided
giving him a hug when we went around the circle. This was twice;
I think we were still getting away with it without anyone else
noticing.

Justin said that he wanted to say something to the audience
before we sang "Music of My Heart." I wondered what was up with
that, but it slipped my mind as we got ready to go on. He had
already made sure the sound people and band knew. It wasn't all
that unusual; sometimes one of us just wanted to make a
dedication or something. I quickly did an inventory to make sure
I hadn't missed a birthday in the group--or among the band and
others we were close to on the tour.

When it came to that point in the concert, Justin stepped out in
front and started talking to the crowd the way he does. God, he
does that so well. It's like he makes them feel like every one of
them is his best friend. "Mr. Smooth" indeed!

"What's up?" he hollered into his mic. "You guys having fun?" The
fans screamed like crazy. "Great, just checkin'! We're havin' fun
too!

"This next song is a little slower and one of my favorites. We
got to record it with Gloria Estefan--that was way cool! She's a
great lady! And the movie is cool too, if you haven't seen it
yet, go!" More cheering.

"Anyway, tonight, I'd like to dedicate this song to a special
fan--and I hope new friend--and his mom. He's really into our
music and was here last night to see our concert, but some really
stupid stuff happened, and he missed the concert."

I suddenly realized what he was doing. Unfortunately, so did
Chris. "Oh shit," I heard Chris mutter. I gave him a look that I
hoped would tell him just how much I wanted to slam his teeth
down his throat at that moment.

Justin didn't hear Chris and continued, "Anyway, sometimes these
things happen, but we feel really bad when they do, so we just
hope tonight's concert is making up for last night. And that
he'll know how sorry we are." Just then I heard something in
Justin's voice and could tell he was about to lose it. Trying to
be as smooth as my friend, I just walked up beside him, put my
hand on his shoulder and took over the dedication. I doubt anyone
beyond the first few rows could have guessed that this wasn't
what was planned all along.

"So we hope you all enjoy 'Music of My Heart'--and especially
Peter and his mom!" Justin looked at me through his tear-filled
eyes and smiled. The crowd was cheering, giving us time to turn
and walk back to get into position. By the time the intro was
done, Justin was ready to begin his opening solo.

He held it together too. Better than ever. I wish we had that
performance recorded. Justin was amazing--and that pumped me up
to match his intensity. And the other guys came along with us--
even Chris. Chris would never do anything to mess up a
performance. Everyone came through.

The crowd went wild. They might not have known what was going on,
but they knew that something special had just happened. Justin
looked at me smiling as he pulled me into a hug. The other guys
gathered around for a group hug--I didn't even mind that Chris's
paw was on my shoulder. We slowly pulled away to go into the next
song. But everyone there knew something magical had happened.



When the concert was over, Justin and I headed off with Arnie
from our security team. Lance had helped me arrange it earlier in
the day that Peter and his mother would be brought back to meet
with us--just us, just Justin and me--before they headed home.
Lance knew about it, but I didn't think Chris or even Joey knew.
We just kind of disappeared as they headed back to the dressing
room.

We relaxed in a small room for a few minutes awaiting Peter's
arrival. "That was a really cool thing you did, Justin--the
dedication. And man! Have we ever sounded that good? Ever?"

"I felt like I was on a whole new level with that song! And then
you came in and the other guys. I wish we had it on tape!"

"Yeah. But man, it was nice. What a feeling!"

Just then the door opened, and Arnie held it open as he motioned
for Peter and his mother to come in.

"Peter! Good to see you man!" I called as I moved toward the
door. Peter was obviously very excited, but seemed to hesitate
somehow. "Hey man, where's my hug tonight?" That relaxed him. The
energy that seemed ready to burst from him propelled him toward
me and we had a good hug.

Justin was standing behind me, and as Peter and I separated, they
looked at each other for a moment before Justin stepped forward
and pulled Peter into what looked like almost a painfully tight
embrace. I saw that Justin's eyes were once again full, but he
seemed to be stopping short of actually crying. As they parted,
Justin looked at Peter. "Thanks for coming tonight. I'm really
sorry about last night."

"Me too. I'm sorry too. But tonight was so great! It was so
cool!" Peter moved from his moment or two of seriousness right
back to full-blown excitement. "And 'Music of My Heart'! Wow!"

"Yeah. I'm glad you liked it."

I turned to Mrs. Thornton; she and I had just been quietly
watching Peter and Justin. "Hi. I'm Josh."

"Hi Josh. I'm Eileen Thornton. Thanks for arranging all this for
Peter--for us. We really enjoyed ourselves."

"I'm glad. I'm glad you liked it too. And I'm really glad you let
Peter come back."

"Mom--you have the thing?"

"Yes, sweetie, right here." Eileen took a large envelope from her
bag and handed it to Peter.

"Mom let me stay home today--well, I really wasn't feeling real
good, you know? But anyway, I drew something new. I hope you guys
will like it." Peter handed the envelope to me, and Justin stood
close beside me as I undid the clasp at the end of it. I pulled
out two pieces of cardboard. Sandwiched between was a piece of
white art paper. It was another drawing.

This time, Peter had drawn just Justin and me, our faces, necks,
and shoulders, as if we were standing close together. It was
beautiful--not only the technique, but the likenesses and the
expressions. "Oh Peter! You are really amazing! This is so good!"

"Man, this is better than any photos we have!" Justin reached up
and took the drawing from my hands to study it closer. "The only
problem with this is that I'll have to fight Josh for who gets to
keep it!" We all laughed with Justin as we continued to admire
Peter's work.

"And I see you remembered to sign it this time," I said.

"Yeah. I didn't want you guys to forget me."

"Hey!" we both said at once. "Not going to forget you Peter,"
Justin finished for us.

Justin and I gave Peter a big bag of signed photos and posters
and whatever other stuff we could find to put in there; he looked
really happy.

"So Peter, you have to promise to keep doing well in school and
to keep drawing, okay? You really have a lot of talent!"

"Thanks Josh, I mean, Mr. Chasez."

"Hey, that's my dad--I'm Josh to my friends!"



"Man, that was so cool. It made me feel so good!"

"Yeah, I know--cool kid, huh?"

"Sure is. His mother seemed cool too. Glad she let him come."

As we approached the dressing room, we saw the door was half open
and we could hear voices from inside. My spirits fell as I could
hear Chris once again in scream mode.

"I just think it's weird is all--dedicating that song to that
guy. I mean, one thing to give him tickets--all right, so he
missed out last night, but the song and all--I just think it
looks strange."

I was ahead of Justin and stopped outside the door--I couldn't
bring myself to go in. I heard Joey respond to Chris. "He was a
sweet kid. Nothing about last night was his fault. He deserved to
have something nice happen to him."

"I still say there's something strange about a fourteen-year-old
kid who likes *N SYNC and sits around drawing pictures of us. And
comes in hugging everyone."

I spun around bumping in to Justin; I hadn't realized how close
he was standing behind me. He immediately looked worried as he
saw my face.

"I gotta get out of here," I whispered in his face and pushed
myself past him.

"Hold up Josh. Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to get one of the security guys to give me a ride
back to the hotel. I'll be okay."

"Kay. But I'm going with you."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know I don't have to, but I want to."

We found Arnie and got him to have one of the guys bring around a
van. "Be sure the others know we left, okay Arnie?"

"Sure Justin. No problem."



Back at the hotel, I was feeling all crazy. I couldn't stand the
idea of just going up to my room. When we got in the elevator,
Justin pushed the button for our floor. As the doors closed, I
reached out and pushed "3."

"What are you doing?"

"I don't feel like just going to my room. I saw there were some
ballrooms on this floor. I'm hoping I might find one open--maybe
even one with a piano."

"Cool. Let's go explore."

"I don't think I'd be very good company, Justin. I think maybe I
should just go by myself."

"And I haven't been very good company these last few nights, but
you didn't just leave me."

"That's different."

"No it's not. I shouldn't have been alone--and now you shouldn't
be alone."

We wandered around the third floor trying all the doors--finding
them all locked. "This isn't working," I said.

"One more hall."

At the end of the hall we found an unlocked door. The room was a
small reception room, nicely decorated, with sofas and chairs
along the walls and a piano in the corner.

"Bingo!"

We closed the door tightly behind us, but saw no way of locking
it. But we were way at the end of a hallway on a deserted floor.
We were pretty assured of not being interrupted.

I sat at the piano and played various tunes and bits and pieces
of melodies. Justin leaned against the piano in front of me,
humming along at times, singing words when he knew them.

"Josh? I'm sorry about everything with Chris. I'm sorry I didn't
do more to shut him up. Maybe if I had said something, he would
have shut up. I mean, he was doing it because he cared about me,
I guess."

"That's okay Just--you didn't need to do anything. Joey said it
was just Chris's way of dealing with it. I guess he's right."

"Yeah, but I know it was really upsetting you--and I still didn't
do anything. That was lousy of me. It kind of scares me that in
some way I was kind of glad he was acting like that--it was like
he expressed all my anger for me--I didn't have to. I just sort
of sent it over to Chris and he burned it off or something."

"I guess that makes sense. And you deserved to be angry. It was a
really terrible thing that happened to you Justin. I would give
anything to have been there. I'd have killed the guy for ever
hurting you."

Justin looked up at me, studying my face for a few moments. A
small smile spread across his face. "I know you would have."

"I don't mean to take away from your anger or even Chris's, but
at some point . . . and when Chris starts getting angry at
someone like Peter! It's just so unfair!"

"I know. It's like being mad at all Arab people because some do
bad things."

"Are you mad at all gay men?" The question was out before I could
do my usual censoring. I think I would have censored it. But I
was so tired and felt so relaxed here with Justin.

"NO! I'm mad at that one psycho. I mean I can't believe how he
left me feeling. I'm scared all the time it seems. And I'm angry--
at him and at me and sometimes at everyone else. I hate that he
made me HATE! Cause I really do hate him for what he did and what
he made me feel like. And I'm tired of being afraid. And I'm
tired of feeling like I should have or could have done something
more."

"Oh Justin! He was a monster! Of course you couldn't do anything
else--you did a lot! You kept him from hurting you more. And the
important part is getting well--that you be strong inside and
work through it and get well."

"Sometimes I wonder if I will! I know I'll never forget how he
made me feel--so angry, so scared, so weak."

"But you'll stop thinking about it as much. It'll fade. You'll
have longer and longer between thinking about him. It's not even
been a week yet! And you're really strong and smart and you have
a lot of faith. You'll be okay soon!"

"And I have great friends!" Justin looked up and smiled; I
returned the smile.

"And don't keep trying to work out till you drop, okay? You don't
have to become Mr. Universe or something to protect yourself! I
mean, what if the guy had had a knife or something--it wouldn't
have mattered how strong you were."

"Yeah, I guess I was being a little crazy about that--but it does
give you a sense of power. Feels like I'm at least doing
something to fight back."

"You are! You didn't let him take you away from your work--your
music and your performing--what you love. You didn't let him win
there--and that's the important stuff. Don't let him keep you
from having fun and from making the fans happy. Look how happy
you made Peter tonight! And how wonderful you made that song
sound!"

"WE made it sound!"

"Yeah . . . "



The next morning Joey called each of us to come to his room for
breakfast and to go over the schedule for the next few days.
Justin and I came out of our rooms at the same time and walked
together down to Joey's room.

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did. Thanks. How about you? Did you remember how to
sleep in a bed?"

"Very funny. How do you know I didn't sleep on my own sofa?"

We were laughing as we knocked on Joey's door. Lance opened it,
and we went in to join the others.

"Hey guys!"

"Hey Joey."

"You know, you guys could have told us you were heading off last
night. And then you weren't here when we came back. That was kind
of dirty!"

"Sorry Joe--didn't Arnie tell you?"

"He told us you were heading back here. We thought you'd be in
your rooms when we got here--but nobody was home."

"Sorry."

"Yeah, we thought maybe that little boyfriend of yours had
kidnapped you or something!" Keep trying Chris, one of these days
maybe someone else will find one of your jokes funny. "Or some
gay motorcycle gang! Or who knows what!" I wasn't serious, I
hadn't really wanted him to keep trying. But somehow, it wasn't
making me as angry this morning. But that wasn't true for all of
us.

"CHRIS! SHUT UP!" It was Justin. He just exploded. His face was
red, and I thought fire might come out of his mouth.

"What? What did I say?"

"The same kind of things you've been saying all week. I'm just
tired of it--all the fag and gay jokes and jibes."

"Sorry Justin. I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't think it'd
bother YOU."

"Well it does. I'm tired of it and tired of feeling like it's my
fault. I mean it probably felt good somehow that you were that
angry for me--that you cared enough. But it's no good to hate a
bunch of people because of one person. And I'm tired of hating.
I'm tired of hating even that one--but I still do. I wish I
didn't. I wish it was all over. Wish the bad dream was all over.
But hurting other people--especially people I love--isn't the
right way to get over it."

Something was happening here, and I wasn't sure what it was. I
did know that my face suddenly felt hot. Justin's face was
contorted with pain and concern; I looked over at Joey to see him
looking at me--again with that look of concern and apology; Lance
looked like he was wondering what he was missing; and Chris
looked more confused than anything else as he stared at Justin.

"I'm sorry Justin. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I didn't
mean to make it worse for you," Chris talked to Justin more
calmly than I remembered hearing him speak since the attack.

"Don't apologize to me. It's not me that you were hurting."

Now Chris really looked confused. And Joey still stared at me.

"What? What are you talking about?" Chris asked.

Justin turned and looked at me, concern and love in his eyes.
"I'm sorry Josh. I'm sorry for the things that have happened over
the last week that must have been really painful for you. I'm
sorry I let them happen."

The old saying about being able to hear a pin drop; I wish
something had dropped to make some noise. Lance's jaw dropped,
but that didn't make any noise.

I just stared back at Justin not having any idea of what to say
or do.

"I don't get it," Chris said. "What's going on?"

"Chris, don't be a fuckin' idiot!" It was Joey speaking. "When
you were making all those 'faggot' jokes and rips, did you ever
think that maybe there was someone here that might be hurt by
what you said? If you were gay, don't you think it might have
been really hard to hear someone talking like that?"

"Huh? But Justin was attacked--he's not gay. Are you gay Curly?"

"Jesus, Chris! Not JUSTIN."

I finally broke my stare into Justin's eyes long enough to look
around the room and see three other sets of eyes on me.

"Did everyone know but me?" Chris asked.

"We all should have known, but none of us has ever talked about
it." It was Joey speaking again, while still staring at me.

I dropped onto the sofa and just closed my eyes. What had
happened? What was happening? Had my world just come to an end?
Or maybe I should be praying for it to end.

I had spent the last couple years bouncing back and forth from
thinking that they had to realize to thinking none of them knew
to thinking that Justin HAD to know. Joey maybe. I sometimes
thought it wouldn't matter. I sometimes thought that it would be
the end of the group--or at least of me in the group. Whatever it
meant, it was now here--the moment of truth.

I opened my eyes as I felt Justin sit down on the sofa next to me
and put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry Josh. I just sort of
lost it for a little bit. But don't you think it's time we were
all more honest with each other?"

His eyes couldn't have shown more love. I glanced over to Joey
who had the most compassionate and caring smile on his face that
I had ever seen. I couldn't bring myself to look at Chris or even
Lance--I was too afraid. After a few moments, I finally spoke.

"I guess I thought you guys probably had figured me out, but it
just scared me too much to actually talk about it. I mean, what
if you hated me? Or what if you wanted me to leave the group? I
mean this is my whole life. You guys are my life. And even if you
knew, you might not want to talk about it." Justin just pulled me
into a tight hug and held me. It felt so good. So safe. My best
friend knew my big "secret" and he still wanted to touch me--to
hug me even. He didn't hate me.

I felt someone's hand on the back of my head messing up my hair.
I pulled back from Justin and turned to see that Joey had come to
sit on the other side of me. He had the silliest grin on his
face. I couldn't help but smile. "My turn," he said, as he
grabbed me in a big hug.

As he let go, I heard Lance's voice from above my head--he was
standing behind the sofa. He put his hands on my shoulders. I
just leaned back my head and looked up at him--kind of upside
down. "Hey Josh. You're still our brother. You always will be.
You're going to have to do better than this to break up this
group!" He smiled--looking pretty strange upside down--but it
sure felt good to have him smile.

With all this acceptance, I finally got up the courage to look
over at Chris. He was sitting alone on the love seat across the
coffee table from the four of us. He was leaning forward and just
staring at the carpet between his feet.

When the silence became deafening, he looked up and into my eyes.
I was so afraid for a moment of what I might see there. But what
I found was a look of such hurt. I thought he must be feeling
like the other guys had all deserted him--that he was being left
by all of us.

"I can't believe I did that. I can't believe that I'm capable of
being so stupid and so mean and . . . " Chris didn't seem able to
go on. He looked down again, and I realized that there were tears
on his cheeks. When he spoke again, it was just a whisper. "JC,
I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me. Please don't hate me
forever."

My heart was suddenly in my throat. I had spent so much time over
the past week being angry at Chris--but never hating him--that I
was overwhelmed by his response. I immediately stood, letting
Lance's hands slide from my shoulders. I went over and sat next
to Chris. "Hey. Apology accepted," I whispered.

Chris's head whipped around to face me--such hope on his face.
"Really? You can really forgive me?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry for being dishonest with you guys."

"NO! I understand. I really do."

We sat there staring at each other for a very long moment. Then
in his almost erratic, jumpy kind of way, Chris lunged at me and
had me in a hug--pretty much lying on top of me as the force of
his move knocked me back against the arm of the love seat. I
recovered enough to put my arms around him--and to look over at
the three biggest smiles on the faces of three of the four best
friends a guy could ever have.



So that was our week from hell. Well, some of it was hell. Some
of it . . . well, some of it was pretty close to heaven. Not to
go into a long religious discussion here, but that's how I've
decided it is, you know? Heaven and hell aren't what we
experience after we die--we get both of them now.

We've continued to get used to being open about my batting for
the other team (Joey's term). It took Chris a long time to get
comfortable with joking about it--he was so scared of hurting my
feelings. I had to do the first jokes--and Joey and Justin
joined in pretty quickly. The first time Chris did say something
(I think it was about George Michael), he looked so scared as
he waited to see if we'd laugh. We did; it WAS one of his
better jokes!

Justin continued to get over his attack. He was able to put some
of his feelings into a great new song he just finished. Hopefully
it will show up on a CD soon. He's also spent time working with
victims' groups, trying to be supportive in whatever way and to
raise consciousness. His attacker was never caught--and it's an
unspoken rule among us that he never goes into a public restroom
alone. It can be pretty funny sometimes as we take turns making
excuses to follow him. He doesn't seem to mind--I think he knows
it's just one of our ways of saying we love him.

And we do--there's a lot of love between us all. And I'm thankful
everyday for all this heaven I get to enjoy. Heaven with my four
angels--the best friends a guy could ever have.