“He sat on the plush couch in his living room, knees drawn
to his chest, one hand intertwined with Britney’s. It was comforting to have
her there, and even though he’d barely said a word to her since she arrived,
she knew he was happy to have her company.
The shrill ring of the phone caused them both to jump, and JC looked at Britney
in a panic. “You gonna answer it, hun?” she asked softly, handing him the
cordless phone.
He swallowed hard and took a deep breath before clicking the talk button. “Hello?”
“Is this JC Chasez?”
“Y-yes. It is. Can I help you?”
“Mr. Chasez, this is Detective Kirkpatrick from the Orlando Police
Department.”
JC frowned. He hadn’t talked to Kirkpatrick that afternoon. He’d talked
to…damn, what was his name…
“Mr. Chasez?”
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I’m here.”
“Anyway, I’ve spoken to Detective Miller with the NYPD. We’d like you to
come down to the station. We have some new information on Mr. Timberlake’s
case.”
JC heart raced as he hung up the phone and reached for his keys.
“JC? Who was it?”
“One of the detectives. He said he has new information.”
Britney couldn’t help but notice the hopeful glint dancing in JC’s eyes. She
could only hope that he wouldn’t be let down again.
“Lance, I’ll be fine, I promise.”
Lance sighed and reached for his keys. “I’ll be home by 8:00 Justin. If you
need anything— anything—my cell number is on the fridge. OK?”
Justin laughed and pushed Lance toward the door. “Ok, Lance. I’ll be fine,
ok? I’m probably just going to watch tv and nap anyway.” A nervous feeling
built in the pit of his stomach as the thought about sleeping, but he did his
best to hide it from Lance. “I’ll see you when you get home.”
“All right, Justin. I’ll see you later. Call me if you need anything!” he
repeated on the way out. Justin locked the door behind him and padded to the
sofa, the hard wood floors cool beneath his bare feet.
He grabbed a blanket from the closet before curling his body into the cushions,
flipping the tv on. He channel surfed for awhile, his eyelids heavy with sleep.
The past nights had been restless, and he had to admit that he was exhausted.
But the thought of going to sleep scared him to death, and he fought to keep his
eyes open.
“In other news, the murder of Joseph Anthony Fatone, Jr. seems to be close to
being solved.”
Justin’s eyes widened when he heard the name, and he instinctively brought his
knees to his chin, hugging himself tightly.
“Police say that Fatone, a 24 year old Brooklyn man, is now the main suspect
in the disappearance one year ago of Justin Timberlake, a 20 year old man from
Orlando, Florida.”
“Timberlake…” he breathed, letting the name reacquaint itself with his
mouth.
He tuned out the rest of the story, just kept repeating his name over and over.
“Justin Timberlake…Justin Timberlake…”
“The blood found at the scene matches Mr. Timberlake’s.”
JC leapt out of his chair, his heart racing wildly in his chest.
“There’s more, Mr. Chasez. You might want to sit down for this one…”
JC sat back down, frowning at Detective Kirkpatrick. “What is it?”
“The police found the gun that was used to kill Joseph Fatone.”
JC looked at him expectantly, nodding his head.
“The fingerprint’s on the gun match Justin’s.”
JC’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, and he had to grip the armrest of the
chair to keep from slipping to the ground.
“I know this is probably a lot for you to handle right now, can I get you a
glass of water or—“
JC shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
“You’re telling me that you think Justin killed Joe Fatone.”
Kirkpatrick nodded, twirling a pen on his desk. “Like I said, I know it’s
probably a lot to swallow, but the only prints on the gun were Justin’s and
Fatone’s. Fatone’s wallet is missing, so we think that maybe Justin…he may
have killed Joe and took off with his money.”
“I..I don’t even know what to say…”
“JC, I know this is hard, but do you have any idea where he may have gone?”
“The old house maybe?” JC had moved out of he and Justin’s house two
months after Justin went missing. It was too hard for him to live there without
him. “I don’t know…I…” Overwhelmed with the emotion of the situation,
JC buried his face in his hands and cried. Cried for his loss, cried for the
past year, and cried over the fact that Justin was alive.
“I’m sorry,” he sniffed, rubbing the wetness from his eyes. “I
just…god, I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Here’s what we’re going to send some people to your old residence, see if
Justin has made an appearance, have them ask around your old neighborhood. If we
hear anything, we’ll let you know right away.”
“There must be something I can do, I can’t just—“
“JC, let us handle this, ok? Please, we’re professionals, we know what
we’re doing.”
JC sighed in defeat, slumping in the chair. “Ok…but please, if you find out
anything, let me know. RIGHT away.”
“Of course.”
“Justin?” Lance called, kicking the door closed behind him. “Justin, I’m
home!”
“In here!” Justin called, his voice drifting from the kitchen. Lance
breathed in deeply, his nose picking up the scent of something that his stomach
was telling him was probably delicious.
“Justin, what are you—“
He walked in the kitchen to find Justin sitting at the table, grinning. Two lit
candles sat on the table, the light bouncing off the walls and dancing in
Justin’s eyes.
“I wanted to do something for you, because you’ve been so nice to me,”
Justin said softly from his chair and walking towards Lance. “And because I
remembered something today.”
“You did?” Lance said, smiling. “Justin, you didn’t have to do all this
for me.”
“Yes, Lance,” Justin said, stepping closer to the older man. “I did. Now
come on, sit down and eat before the pasta gets cold.” He pulled Lance’s
chair out for him, and Lance sat down, in awe of Justin.
Justin took his own seat and looked across the table at Lance, reaching across
to clasp Lance’s hand in his own. “Justin Timberlake,” he said softly.
“What?”
“Justin Timberlake,” he repeated, smiling. “That’s my name. Justin
Timberlake.”
Why does that name sound familiar? Lance thought.
“That’s great, Justin!” he exclaimed, squeezing Justin’s hand. “See,
one day at a time.”
“Do you have to work tomorrow?” Justin asked, releasing Lance’s hand and
reaching for his fork.
“Yeah, why?”
Justin face fell a little as he chewed. “Well,” he said, swallowing. “I
was thinking I might want to like…look around Orlando some more…I mean,
like, more around residential areas. Ya know? See if anything rings a bell.”
“You can still do that, Justin. You can take my other car, I don’t have a
problem with that. Just write down my cell number in case you get lost or
something.”
“Really?”
Lance nodded, swallowing his food. “Of course. And this is delicious, by the
way.”
“Thanks,” Justin said, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “I didn’t know if
you liked Italian…”
“I do. It’s great.”
They ate in silence, stealing shy glances at each other between bites. When they
were finished, Lance reached for their plates, stopped by Justin’s hands.
“I’ll clean this up later, ok? Right now I want to talk to you.”
Lance nodded as Justin took him by the hand and led him to the living room,
sitting down next to him on the couch. “Lance…can I ask you something?”
“Sure, Justin. Anything.”
Justin looked right in Lance’s eyes and wasted no time getting the question
out. “Are you attracted to me?”
Lance nearly choked. “W-what?”
“You heard me.”
“Justin, I…I mean..well…”
Justin sighed and looked away. “That’s what I thought,” he said sadly.
“I’m sorry, that was stupid of me to ask. I’m gonna go clean up the
kitchen.”
“Justin, wait!” Lance said, pulling him back down. “Will you let me
finish?”
Justin just nodded, still avoiding Lance’s eyes.
“Yes, Justin, I’m attracted to you.”
Justin’s head snapped up and he smiled at Lance. “You are?”
“Yeah, Justin. God, how could I not be?”
Justin scooted closer to Lance, resting on hand on Lance’s knee. “Why
didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, Justin. Because
I’m not like that. Plus, I didn’t know if you were gay. And you’ve been
through so much, I didn’t want to scare you or something.”
“Thanks, Lance,” Justin said softly. “Um…Lance?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yeah.”