Part 3


The two members of NSYNC watched cautiously as JC and Brian made their way out of the room and down the hall. When the two men disappeared into another secluded space, Lance and Joey headed for the near empty conference room. Upon seeing the crying blond on the floor they instantly fell to his side. Joey wrapped a comforting arm around Justin and squeezed him protectively against his chest. The brunette, unknowingly providing the listless man a lifeline to reality, watched as Justin buried himself into him. Another piece of Joey’s heart broke as he roughly wiped a wandering tear from his eye.

Lance smoothed a caressing hand up and down the seemingly comatose singer’s back and looked worriedly at Joey. When heavy brown eyes met emerald, words were spoken without a sound. The brunette pulled Justin even tighter to his chest, allowing the weeping blond room to untangle his legs. Once his limbs were no longer tucked beneath him, Joey leaned forward and carefully maneuvered his arm under Justin’s knees. He grunted slightly as he lifted the dead weight of the youngest singer. Lance motioned Joey forward and silently followed. Before exiting the room, Joey leered down the hallway determining whether or not it was safe; he hurried out into the corridor. The tenor carried Justin into a predetermined unoccupied room, which unintentionally was across from Brian and JC’s.

Lance glared over his shoulder at the half closed door. “I hope neither of them come out for a while,” he replied. The sandy blond stepped further into the room, sidestepped Joey, and arranged the pillows for Joey.

“Thanks,” the brunette replied as he navigated through the small space. Upon reaching his destination, Joey settled Justin down on the narrow couch. “We’ve got about twenty minutes,” he answered. “I hope we can calm him down before then. He’s a wreck.”

“Yeah, you aren’t kidding.” Lance turned his head in the direction of the room across the hall and sadly tipped his head down in thought. He felt a strong hand grasp his shoulder and slowly pull him toward a comforting body. The blond instantly wrapped his arms around Joey’s thick waist and sighed.

“Can you do this?” the brunette softly spoke in Lance’s ear.

Lance nodded his head against Joey’s chest and stepped away from him, arms still carelessly slung over the brunette’s hips. He smiled slightly at the older man. “Do I have a choice?” he mumbled back. “We need to help them.”

Joey nodded. “Kind of convenient that the bastard picked that room isn’t it.”

“It’s fate,” Lance whispered back.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Lance moved away from him and stood next to the couch. “What do we do now?” Joey said a little to loudly.

“We wait until Chris gets here.” Lance looked at the broken man in front of him. “I swear Chris’s plan better work,” he mumbled and ran his fingers apprehensively through his hair. The bass singer regretfully gazed at Joey and sat down beside Justin’s quivering body. He rested his hand on the younger blonde’s knee giving a small amount of support. “Justin,” his bass voice whispered. “Sweetie, look at me.”

The sobbing blond turned his sullen gaze in the direction of Lance’s voice, unsure of where it was coming from. “Hmmm…” he murmured, “J…C?”

“No not JC, it’s Lance.” Justin stared at Lance, disbelieve written on his face. The older blond sighed. “Justin you need to get focused here. I know it’s hard right now, but we need you ready for this meeting.” Justin blinked. “Come on, snap out of it,” Lance quipped rocking the singer’s knee side to side.

“I… but he… I can’t… he…I…” Justin stammered.

“Justin you need to forget about him for now. You’re a professional, come on get it together,” Lance insisted.

“He…said loved…loved…me…” Justin sobbed. “I…he…”

“Justin,” the blond drawled, frustration building.

“I can’t take this,” Justin screamed, drawing an expected commotion from across the corridor. “I can’t take this, can’t take this,” the blond continued bouncing his head against the back of the couch. “I nee… I need to… get…rid of it.”

Lance looked at Joey puzzled, “Need to get rid of what, Justin?”

“He…he said…talk…I…” Justin’s eyes went wide as they met a set of equally tormented ones. “J…C?”

**

“Come on JC you don’t need the ungrateful punk anymore. You’ve got me right,” Brian said as he ushered the brunette from the room. JC glanced over his shoulder several times hoping to catch Justin storming out of the conference room after them but Justin never came. “He isn’t coming,” BT sneered. “You chose me over him. I’ve won and he knows that.” BT guided the distraught man to an unoccupied office and half-heartedly shut the door. The dirty blond sat JC down on a plush chair, placing the small powder filled bag in front of him.

JC stared at the substance on the table. Captivated by the euphoric release the drug afforded and thankful for the temporary relief from the internal pain it would kill, the brunette willingly reached a shaking hand out toward it.

“Not so fast,” the other man roughly wrenched JC’s hand away from the bag. “You need to say the magic words.” The brunette turned his hardened gaze in the direction of BT’s smug face. He tried yanking his arm away from his boyfriend’s grasp, but he only tightened it. “Say it.” When the brunette didn’t respond, BT grabbed a fistful of golden tresses and slammed JC’s head against the table, pinning the arm behind the slender man’s back. “No relief if you don’t say it?”

“Please, baby.” JC trembled with both fear and need. He feared the potential level of brutality BT could muster under the influence of the cocaine, but mostly he feared that BT wouldn’t let him forget, be free. “I’m…I’m sorry. Please,” the brunette whispered.

“You know what you’ve gotta say,” the blond tightened his hold and leaned over the willowy frame. “If you want to douse your pain, then say it.” JC whimpered as his eyes closed with the increased force. BT snarled, “Say it.”

JC’s stomach turned, head throbbed and his arm was beginning to go numb. He opened his hazy orbs and caught sight of the small bag just in front of him, he sighed. His heart wrenched and his stomach fell at the thought of calling BT Justin’s pet name, but his need outweighed his resilience. “Please, sugah,” JC fluttered his watery lashes and internally reprimanded his self for being so weak.

“See now, that wasn’t so bad. I don’t see why you refuse to call me that.” BT released the brunette’s arm and allowed JC to sit back up. He swooped down and snatched the bag of powder and opened it. “Ready for your reward.”

JC ignored BT and observed the room across the hallway. He thought he heard noises while his boyfriend was taunting him but he hadn’t been sure, until now. The brunette tilted his head to left and leaned over, trying to get a better view of what was going on. “What do we do now?” Joey’s voice trickled the distance between the two rooms and it was clear they were up to something.

JC slowly rose from his chair upon hearing Justin’s plagued tones fall from the blonde’s lips. The brunette staggered through the small space BT and he shared. He couldn’t help it, didn’t want to help it. It was as if he was being called to it, drawn by the familiar tormented voice. JC cautiously approached the door. He stood in the opening watching the unbelievable scene across the corridor, hearing Justin’s agonized screams. JC’s body tightened, heart skipped, when he heard the amount of unbridled pain spill from Justin’s normally joyous voice. He blinked back tears and ran a hand through his dampened hair. The older man’s legs wobbled some, as he remained transfixed by his ex-lovers raw and pleading cries. He needed to get to him; he needed to help.

“Hey, get back here, JC. We ain’t finished yet.”

JC ignored his boyfriend and ghosted his way in the direction of the other occupied room. He leaned his slender frame against the doorway and watched the scene unfold. That’s when their eyes met, that’s when JC recognized the grief and pain Justin was feeling and that’s when Justin’s soul cried for JC. It’s also when Lance made his biggest mistake.

**

“Jus…” Before JC could finish, Lance drew his ring-clad hand back diagonally over his shoulder and then swiftly backhanded Justin across the face completely catching him off guard. The younger blonde’s head snapped sideways into the back of the couch, eyes pinched shut. The immovable object didn’t afford Justin any leeway to avoid the harsh blow, forcing his cheek to take the brunt of the impact. Justin’s hands immediately covered his face, a thin line of blood trickled between his fingers. He opened his eyes, staring hard at his unsuspected assailant and gasped for air, tears diluting the red stream. Lance took advantaged of the stunned man and lunged forward, encircling the other man’s wrists. He wrenched them from Justin’s face and uncovered the large gash. His large ring had sliced open a shallow wound in Justin’s cheek, a bruise rapidly forming around it. Lance closed his eyes remorsefully as Justin struggled in his grasp.

“Let go.”

“Justin, knock it off.”

“Let me go,” Justin kicked at the blond. The bass singer let go of one wrist and drew his hand back again, striking the struggling blond once more. The fight in Justin faded and he cringed into the couch.

“Fucking what the hell, Lance,” JC’s usually soft voice thundered throughout the small enclave. “Don’t you fucking hit him again.”

Lance sneered over his shoulder, “Why don’t you go fucking snort some more coke and mind your own fucking business? Or has your dealer left.” JC gasped, shocked at what his friend said. The younger blond ignored JC’s reaction and reached for Justin’s hands again. “Justin, come on. Stop fucking around and snap out of it.” Lance pulled the youngest member toward him, Justin’s head lulled to one side.

“Lance,” JC warned. “Get your hands off of him.”

The bass singer let go of Justin’s wrists and pushed him, sending the drained man hard into the back of the sofa. The blond quickly pulled his knees to his chest, closed his eyes, and rested his forehead between the arm and the back of the divan. “What the fuck do you care?”

“That’s Justin,” JC said as if those two words explained everything.

“No it isn’t.”

“Wha…” the brunette stared at Lance confused.

“Does that look like the Justin you know and loved? Does it JC?” The brunette tipped his head to the side and observed the actions of his youngest friend. “Well… fuck it. You’re fucking useless to us, so why don’t you go do something you are good at…snorting coke and feeling sorry for yourself.”

“But… I…”

“You’re so selfish. You couldn’t see the pain he was in. You couldn’t see it through your drug induced haze, could you.” Lance turned his back and glared down at the rocking form on the couch. “Justin get up.” The older blond reached down and grabbed an arm and yanked, hauling the singer to his butt. Lance lifted his hand again as if to strike and Justin cringed away, Lance’s heart sank. He prayed JC would fall for it. He did.

When the blonde’s hand began falling toward Justin, it was captured almost immediately. Lance felt his arm being yanked harshly, forcing him around in time for JC’s fist to collide with his face, hitting him square in the jaw.

“I fucking told you not to touch him.” JC shook his hand and looked down angrily at Lance’s fallen frame, pointing at shaky finger. “Nobody touches him.” The brunette walked over the top of Lance and sat down beside the quivering man on the couch. He tenderly wrapped his arms around Justin’s shoulders and pulled him toward his chest. “Justin…hey.”

“J…C…”

“Yeah,” the brunette responded. He rocked the younger man in his arms. JC heard a noise over his shoulder and peered over it, catching Joey helping Lance onto his feet and checking over his face. The older brunette pressed Justin’s bloody cheek hard against him and he addressed the other two. “Joey?”

The tenor glared at JC as he continued petting the side of Lance’s face. “What the hell do you want?”

JC rested his cheek on Justin’s head, still rocking him. “Why didn’t you help?”

“I thought Lance had it under control,” Joey sneered, seething.

The older brunette’s head jerked up, “What the hell?”

“He was acting all fucked up. Like he was the one doing drugs or something.”

“Lay off it. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to do. Got it.”

“Even if hurts the rest of us.”

JC closed his eyes again. “I guess I am selfish.”

“You fucker.” Joey helped Lance sit down and continued coddling him.

“Joey?” JC asked, his soft voice returning.

“What?” the other man scorned.

“I… I didn’t mean to hit Lance so hard.”

“Yeah, well, at least…” Joey stopped when he felt Lance’s hand tighten around his own.

“At least what?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” Joey stared back down at Lance and kissed his forehead. He whispered, “You did good, sweetie. You did good.” The blond gazed back at the Italian and smiled curtly and leaned his forehead into Joey’s chest, comforted by the arms that wrapped around him. Their peace was short lived.

“What the hell is going on in here?” BT yelled when he entered the room. “JC…” he discontinued his ranting when he witnessed the brunette comforting his ex-lover. The dirty blond composed himself. “JC what are you doing?” his voice accused.

“None of your business,” JC shot back unexpectedly.

“Excuse me?”

“This is between the four of us. You’ve got nothing to do with this.” BT crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. The brunette sighed, “Look Brian, just go back across the hall and I’ll be there in a few minutes okay.”

BT ignored his boyfriend’s suggestion. “You in for a quickie or something,” the other man spat. “Are you gonna fuck him right here in front of you boyfriend?”

“That’s ridiculous.” JC felt the blond tense in his embrace. He continued, “We’re still friends Brian.” Justin’s body completely collapsed within his arms giving into the realization that JC would never be his again. JC shuddered at his own words, the finality of them. “You’re just gonna have to get use to it.”

“Still friends huh. Friends with benefits, I’m sure.” BT approached the two on the couch, stalking them like a predator. He snatched Justin’s arm quickly and pulled him from JC’s touch. “Get the fuck away from him,” Brian yelled at Justin.

Justin screamed as his arm was twisted.

“Let go of him,” JC and Joey yelled simultaneously. JC stood up and looked over his shoulder toward Lance and Joey. “Guys, could you give us a second, here.”

“Are you sure?” Joey pleaded.

“Yes.”

“Will be down the hall. Come on Lance.” Joey helped the younger man to his feet, guided him past the feuding man and out the door. JC watched as they left the room and then his contempt filled eyes refocused on his boyfriend. “Let him go.” BT shook Justin by his arm, jarring it ruthlessly. The blond moaned.

“I swear Brian.”

“What? What do you fucking swear?” BT dropped Justin’s arm and the blond instantly crawled away, his physically and emotionally exhausted frame collapsing lengthwise on the divan. BT looked down at the pathetic form, “Remember,” he pointed accusingly, “he’s the one that left you. He’s the one who gave you up, not me.” He moved closer to his boyfriend and leaned toward him, whispering. “He’s just like you were, JC. So emotional, so grief stricken, I bet I could chase his pain away too, if I wanted.” BT again observed the muscular man lying on the couch, his eyes focusing on Justin’s ass; he licked his lips. “I bet he’s every bit as good in bed as you are.” The dirty blond licked the shell of JC’s ear. “Do you want me to find out? We could have so much fun with him, use him… like he used you.”

“Justin never used me,” JC whimpered back.

“Isn’t that what you told me. You felt used.” He licked JC’s ear again, “One line and he’d be all ours, and revenge would be yours.”

“No,” JC spoke emphatically.

BT huffed, “Maybe when you’re high you’ll change you mind. You’re much more fun that way anyhow.” The techno producer sat causally down beside Justin and placed his hand on the back of the younger man’s thigh. Justin, to tired from the lack of sleep and the emotional roller coaster, didn’t move from away from the touch. BT rubbed his hand in small circles barely brushing against Justin’s ass and then getting braver, dipped it down pressing into the defenseless blonde’s denim covered perineum.

JC watched as Justin’s body shuddered and inhale. The brunette couldn’t do anything to stop his boyfriend, trapped by his words. He knew BT would do it. The older brunette had wanted desperately to tell BT what he really felt, but he was too concerned about the repercussions toward his self and Justin. He clenched his fists tight; white knuckled his eyes never leaving Justin’s trembling body. “I swear, we’re just friends.”

BT wrapped his hand underneath and grabbed Justin’s cock, squeezing it. The younger blond bit his bottom lip and made a pain laced moan. JC’s boyfriend leaned over Justin’s body, flexing his hand tight, clutching his phallus. Justin pushed his hips up trying to dislodge BT’s grip, but the blond pushed him back down with the weight of his body. As BT struggled with Justin, he caught JC moving toward him in his peripheral vision. “Stop, right there JC. Unless of course you’d like me to take this further.” The brunette stopped. BT whispered into the squirming man’s ear, “You lose. I win.” He removed his hand and smacked Justin’s ass. He leered at JC, who was staring at Justin, “It better be just friends.” He accosted Justin again, “it better be.” He stood up and left the room, followed by a shaken JC.

Justin pulled his knees to his chest and allowed fresh tears to fall.

**

The blond timidly reopened his tear drenched lashes, blinking profusely. His arms were wrapped tightly against his knees pulling them as near as possible, forehead resting upon them. The position afforded him the ability to become small and unnoticed, allowing him to curl up and die peacefully. Upon hearing JC’s declaration, Justin’s body was raked with wave upon wave of hopelessness, shamefulness and dejection. He didn’t want anyone to notice the every lasting effect it had on him. So, he hid within himself.

His ears did not hear the new voice that entered the room. His eye didn’t see the concerned looks that crossed each group member’s face. Justin didn’t care about these things. He only wanted his pain to end and JC to return. The youngest member tore his eyes from his knees and peered up. His weeping had subsided and he was left with only deep internalized self-loathing.

Justin felt lost and alone, although there were six other people in the office with him. The blonde’s head jerked back upon his revelation. He was in an office. The room was sure to possess what he needed. Justin’s azure eye’s scanned the area, darting back and forth until he spotted what he needed. He looked around the room one more time determining if anyone and noticed his change. His azure eyes met JC’s. The brunette was sitting in a leather chair facing him, watching him. Justin quickly turned his face away and darted his gaze back at the desk. When he gave a sideways glance at JC again he observed his ex-lover looking over his shoulder at the desk, and then their eyes met again.

Justin took a deep breath. He could do this; he could reach his salvation. Without warning, the young singer unraveled his self from the couch and painfully made his way across the room. As he approached a desk he stumbled, careening his hip hard into the unyielding piece of furniture, knocking over a small container of pencils, pens and other office supplies. The items spilled frantically across the uncluttered surface and Justin quickly gathered them up, replacing them into the cup. He made a small apology for his clumsiness to the Jive executive and then excused himself. “I gotta go to the bathroom,” he said softly hunched over, while exiting the room.

JC stood from his chair and started following the blond singer. The brunette’s movements were stopped when Chris grabbed his arm. JC looked down at the offending hand and traveled his gaze up until he met auburn eyes.

“Let go of me.”

“He doesn’t need to be here for this.”

“What?”

“Just leave it at that and sit back down. We need to get things straight.” Chris nodded toward the vacated chair.

“Chris, Justin’s well being is more important that this stupid meeting, you think?”

Chris gave JC a stern look. “I said sit down. Besides I highly doubt you think that.” He paused, “Maybe you should know the reason for Justin’s unhealthy demeanor, before you become the martyr for Justin’s health, eh.”

**

Justin reached the bathroom unnoticed with his prize. He quickly entered the small room and locked the door, bracing the garbage can against the doorknob. The blonde’s nervous hand set the object down on the bathroom counter and gave it a weary smile. It’s only a matter of time before he would feel its sharp edge tear his skin, releasing small bits of his misery in each gash it created.

Justin rolled his shirtsleeve up and gently traced the old and new scars that marred his once flawless skin. The blond reached timidly for the object. He closed his eyes and worried his lips, in a last minute internal battle. He pulled his hand back. His mind reinforced his need with images of sedated relief, showing him that it’s worked before; it’s worked every time. His emotional turmoil would disappear as soon as the cold metal sliced open his skin, allowing the internal pain to leave his body in a gush of red. He licked his lips and stared at the glinting silver object, clasping his hand around the awkward handle. The blond opened the object and grabbed it carelessly cutting his hand on the opposite side. Justin squeezed his eyes shut at the unintentional pain.

Justin’s mind won over his heart. He clenched the fist of his other arm and struck the forearm hard and fast, widening the gash on his palm. The cut was deeper and thicker allowing more of his pain to escape. The physical pain it created tenfold from what he had been use to, although like the smaller objects, it didn’t get rid of his emotional scars fast enough. Justin allowed the scissors another chance and settled the tip just under his rolled sleeve and slowly drew it down his arm, stopping at his elbow. The blond watched a small trickle of blood ooze out following obediently behind the scissors’ blade. He quickened his hand.

Justin’s eyes watered. He hoped the two new cuts, along with the short quick ones, would be enough, the first deeper and wider, but they were futile. The singer has never had to make so many slashes before to facilitate his reprieve. The blond still felt the misery, the patient darkness shrouding his soul. He needed more. Justin lifted his shirt off, grimacing slightly. The young singer positioned the edge of the make shift blade onto his stomach and observed in the mirror the diagonal stream of red the shears left in its wake. His head swooned. Still not enough, the blond thought as he situated the object onto his chest. Justin gouged an X over his heart and then dropped the bloodied scissors. Again he swayed. The blood rushed out from his self-inflicted wounds, purging him of his guilt, his despair. He leisurely fluttered his lashes, welcoming the dizziness, the sheltering darkness; he swayed. Thanking God as he slowly crumbled to the floor in exhaustion, and his pain, for now, could be forgotten.

**

JC waited. He’d stayed after everyone else had left. The information they’d feed him churned in his head. He needed to talk to Justin, to read his thoughts, his emotions. He’d know for sure then. Justin mentioned something about not being strong, about being a coward. JC wanted to know why, why he feared their relationship. He needed to speak with Justin.

He waited.

JC remembered his ex-lover saying something to him earlier that day about Jive and what they made him do. He was craving a fix and Justin said that it was Jive’s idea. He had called him a liar. He didn’t believe that their record company could do such a thing, would keep them apart. JC looked at his watch worriedly and shifted in his chair. He was wrong.

He waited.

When Chris brought up the letters that Justin had written to JC, the brunette sat straighter. He didn’t receive any letters, he had responded. Chris stared hard at the executive and made the man show JC the pile of letters Justin had written. Every letter still sealed, none of them with a postal watermark. JC’s eyes clouded, Justin had tried to contact him. He hadn’t abandoned him completely. The brunette chewed on his nails as he thought about his relationship with Justin, comparing with what he had now. He looked down at the unopened letters and contemplated reading them. He left them for now.

He waited.

The threats that BT had made were real and JC knew that. He wouldn’t allow his boyfriend the opportunity to hurt Justin. He would protect him as best he could. Out of friendship of course, he thought trying desperately to convince his self. JC stood up from the chair, the letters spilling from his lap and laid on the couch. “I can’t still be in love with him, not after everything his undone. This is killing me,” the brunette whispered out loud and closed his eyes. He sighed.

He waited.

Justin wasn’t coming back.

He cried.



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