Part 4


Winded and sweaty now from prolonged dance-floor activity, Joey leaves Kelly near the front bar in the half-drunken company of Melinda and a few other pseudo-trustworthy acquaintances and heads upstairs to the top-level VIP section of Crobar Miami that’s half-assed closed off and loosely guarded. Along the way, he’s groped and pawed and stopped a few times for a kiss and/or hug.

But hey. He’s here to mingle and be congenial with the fans, right? Isn’t that part of the overall game plan?

No complaints from one Mr. Fatone. Joey’s more than willing to be a good sport. Of course. Bring on the open-mouth smooches and the braless, close-grinding embraces. All in a day’s work, eh?

“What’s going on up in here?” he asks Chris at the doorway to the room the other guys where hanging out when he’d left them up here over an hour or so ago. “You nerds all get put on restriction and can’t fucking leave outta here, man? There’s more to this club than this one tight-ass room, yo.”

Unhurriedly and maybe even solemnly, Chris leans his shoulder against the doorframe, drains half of his cocktail, and shakes his head. “Yeah, you’d know, you big ho. Where’ve you been, by the way, man?”

“Getting my dance on, yo. It’s a cool new thing people do in bars now. You should try it, dude.”

“You should try biting my ass.” Chris smirks.

“Nope. Not up on my rabies shots……….So what’s the lowdown in here? You losers partying or what?”

Chris lets out a small groan. “Dude, don’t ask. You’ll be better off. Go back to shaking your groove thang. Trust me.”

“Okay, now. Cut the shit, CK. You’re scaring me, man. What’s up?”

“Jace.”

Joey glances past Chris into moving smoky shadows of the room, as if he half-expects to get a fleeting glimpse of something disturbingly unreal. “What about him? Is he lost or sick? Or spazzing out about something?”

“Well, guess number three would come closest……….except that he passed the hyper-freak spazzing stage about 20 minutes ago. Witness, if you will, the remains of a broken beer bottle or, say, NINE that got smashed against the back wall, sacrificing their short lives to the passionate, out-of-control Chasez temper.”

“Shit.”

“Yep. Hence the reason we’re in detention now and relegated to drinking from lovely *plastic* glassware. Cheers,” Chris says in the same steady monotone he’s used for everything else and toasts toward Joey with his opaque-white Dixie cup.

Joey wipes his damp forehead with the back of his hand and sighs. “So what’s the fucking problem with him, man? Why aren’t you back there watching him? He IS back there, isn’t he?”

Calmly, Chris nods. “He’s back there. It’s currently Lance’s turn to try and talk him down off the ledge. I already tried. I’m ‘sposed to be looking for some shackles and harnesses now, man.”

“Dude.” Joey frowns. “Not funny.”

“Kidding! Jesus! Sue me.”

“So what’s his issue, CK? What’s got him so upset?”

Chris’s heavy dark eyes cut over to Joey as if he can’t believe Joey actually voiced that question. “You only get one guess on that one, Fatone.”

“Justin.”

“You’re smarter than you look, man.”

And Joey’s still surprisingly puzzled. “But what’d Ju do?”

Now Chris’s large eyes roll slowly, and Joey catches hints of telltale scarlet staining the whites. “Well, hello? Are you not paying attention to current events here, man? Our good buddy Justin managed to dodge the preplanned scavenger hunt adventures earlier. Were you, by chance, around for that?”

“I was, asshole.”

“So, moving right along, the same Mr. Timberlake has now elegantly skipped out on the finish-line festivities and stood everyone up here too — including JC, who he was apparently supposed to hook up with on a much more personal level tonight……….So C’s not a happy frolicker right now.”

“Aww, man. This sucks.”

Chris up-ends the rest of his drink, signals for another one, and continues his story. “Yeah, it sucks alright. To hell and back. And Jace was trying so damn hard to blow it off too, man. He was doing his best to pretend it wasn’t getting to him……….getting more and more wasted, rubbing up on some random chicks and dancing and shit, even going mouth-to-mouth slobbery with one or two of them.”

“Shit. He must be trashed as hell to do that crap.” Joey can’t suppress a chuckle. “No way! Getting smoochie with the hoochies? C?”

Chris shrugs. “Way. He’s gotta make it look real, I guess, and fuel some teeny fantasies and all that jazz. Big showcase ‘round here this weekend for Queer Eye to play Straight Guy.”

Joey giggles again at the idea. “Poor C. The shit he goes through to be who he is. Such horrible torture.”

“Yeah, and then he gets word that Justin’s down at Mynt with the Farrah Fawcett wannabe……….Man, I thought me and Bass were in some serious trouble then. He freaked. BAH-llistic. It was not a rosy sight. Took us both to physically settle him down again. Luckily, nobody was in here but us and that Carlos goob.”

Now Joey squints in confusion as loud dance music drowns out the crowd noise behind and below him. “Dude, who the hell told him THAT? About Timberlake being down at Mynt?”

“Our cute-ass cocktail waitress. Word flies on the food service grapevine, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Because, duh, she didn’t know she was passing out some make-JC-fucking-implode information?”

“No, I mean why was THAT the information she was dishing? It’s BULLSHIT!”

“What?” It’s Chris now who looks confused.

“Man, where the hell is Chasez? I gotta have a talk with that boy.”

Chris blinks and tosses a glance over his shoulder. “Just around the corner. Follow the glass-shard trail.”

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

“Josh, c’mon now. Let it go. Don’t let it ruin your whole night. Justin *had* to have a good reason for not being here. You’ll hear about it later. You know you will,” Lance is saying in a low, smooth voice, sitting next to JC on the small wall-couch in the rear of this lounge area that’s been sectioned off for them. And it doesn’t sound like the first time tonight he’s gone over the comforting, compassionate pleas to his friend.

With his head down and the ebony waves of hair spilling forward messily, JC snorts. “It won’t fucking matter by then.”

“Josh, don’t talk like that. He’ll always matter to you. You’re just a little pissed at him right now.”

“And I SHOULDN’T be, Lance?” He whips his head around to glare into kind, green eyes. “He promised. He said he’d get rid of her and be here tonight. For me. And where is his lying ass? Down the bitch with that beach……….er, beach with that bitch, rather,” JC growls and kicks at the chair beside him.

Lance doesn’t laugh at the screwed-up syntax. He simply brushes JC’s shoulder with a warm, caring palm. “He could still show up, Josh.”

“He could still go to hell too……….That fuckhead……….selfish brat……….son of a bitch……….didn’t even make an effort to be with me.”

“Stop now. You’re getting riled up again, and nobody wants that……….Now it’s obvious to all of us how much you care about him. And he’s got it just as bad for you too, man.”

“Like hell.”

“Josh, listen. You shoulda seen him today waiting for you to show up at Eden Roc……….He was totally and completely jazzing all about you. Sorda fidgety and nervous like when you first fall for somebody and it’s all new and exciting and makes you tingle inside……….He couldn’t see anything else but you. Nothing.”

JC snorts again in angry denial. “I’m so convinced.”

Lance sighs and scoots closer, bumping JC’s leg with his own and grazing the lean thigh with his fingers, in that familiar ex-lover-still-close-pals way that is silently and mutually okay. Moving his mouth nearer to JC’s half-hidden ear, he whispers.

“You’re spoiled, Josh.”

“Fuck off, Lance.”

“No. Now hear me out just for a second. You’re spoiled, and you have every right to be. Before the tour started, Justin bent over backwards for you twenty-four-seven, making sure you had everything you could possibly want so you’d be happy. Because you make *him* happy. And it was working. You two had something fantastic, and it showed on both of you. It was beautiful……….And, damnit, that took me a long-ass time to admit. It was hard for me, giving you up and letting go……….But my point is that you got used to how awesome you had it, Josh, how well he treated you and always showed you how much he loves you. You got so used to it that it’s killing you now that he can’t be around all the time to do it still. You *said* you could give him up to the road, just for the summer. But maybe it’s wearing you down because you need him more than you figured on needing him………..And maybe he’s going through the same withdrawal.”

“You’re drunk, Lance, and babbling Mandarin or some weird shit.”

“No, I’m not. And you’ll remember this tomorrow. Damn you.”

JC is silent and sulking for at least an entire two minutes as Lance’s richly-spoken words penetrate the alcohol haze that buoys his brain. Then, suddenly, he bolts forward off the couch and leaps to his feet in a mad burst of kinetic energy, red-streaked eyes glowing and one moist curl dangling on the side of his brow.

“Damnit! I’m going down there! Fuck all this not knowing crap! That little shit can tell me to my FACE he doesn’t want to see me! Fuck him lying to me!”

Not much more sober and alert than JC, Lance jumps up too and manages to grab JC around his waist and hold him so that he doesn’t charge from the room. “Yo, Chris! A little help back here, man, please!” he calls out desperately.

“Get OFF me, Lance! That hurts like hell! This is a free country. I can go and find him if I fucking WANT to!” JC hisses and struggles in Lance’s firm embrace.

“Not in this shape you can’t. So give it up now.”

“Don’t make me mad at YOU too, Lance. Let me go!”

“Josh, you can hardly even walk. You’re absolutely not going anywhere. And that is fucking final!”

“Turn his scrawny ass loose, Bass, babe. I got ‘im.” Joey steps in with immaculate timing to wrap himself around JC’s slim, wriggling form and hold him still.

“JC, dude. It’s okay. Just relax your ass down and pretend you’re popsicle.”

“No! It’s NOT okay,” JC snarls and fights against him wildly. “I’m in love with a cold-hearted adolescent jerk-off who couldn’t give a shit about me but would rather hang out with some brainless bimbo twat instead! How’s that okay, man? It’s fucked UP is what it is.”

“JC, will you cool it for one second? I don’t have the fucking energy to keep restraining you like this, man.”

“Good! ‘Cause your death squeeze is hurting the fuck out of me! Get off!”

Lance moves forward to assist again. “He’s sunburned, Joe. On his back. It’s just starting to turn painful. Go easy on him, man.”

Joey rolls his eyes and slowly releases his powerful grip from around JC’s body. Then, light-heartedly and screaming with sarcasm, he says, “Sorry. Damn. I forgot how delicate and *fragile* you are, Chasez. Don’t wanna break you or anything.”

“Fuck off, Fatone.”

“Yeah, yeah. You start that psycho tantrum shit again, man, and we’ll be throwing down, you and me. Count on it. You want all those people out there to see one of your hysterics episodes? Do you? Yeah, that’s what I thought. So you’re welcome for the rescue……….Jesus Christ.”

JC doesn’t answer, just plops sullenly back down in the corner he’d been hiding in before, and Joey eases in next to him this time. Chris brings in another round of drinks on a small tray and sets it on the table, doling out the goods to everyone. Then he and Lance stand side-by-side to sip the liquor and to observe Joey’s “turn” with their troubled mate.

“I sure as hell didn’t mean to hurt you, Jace. Seriously. All joking aside. Was I too rough? You okay?” Joey starts off soothingly.

“I’m fine,” JC mumbles. “So you a-holes can all leave me alone now.”

“Well, here’s the thing………..I think you got some wrong four-one-one that’s probably making out all crazy-mad like this. See, Ju was HERE, man. About an hour ago. Him and his posse tried to roll up in the back door ‘cause he wanted to skip out on the making-a-scene thing and the fanfare and shit. But just as he got inside, he collapsed and dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Just passed out cold……….Evidently, it had something to do with all those sinus pills he’s been popping right and left and, like, he didn’t eat much today, so the story goes. And plus prob’bly boozing it up some too, knowing Ju.”

JC turns to Joey sharply, his tired and skeptical eyes bright but narrowed. “How do you know this?”

Joey shrugs, as if everybody knows this common info. “From Todd, man. He’s chilling downstairs. He was at the rear entrance when it happened. He *saw* your boy, Chasez. Justin was in that house……….On the floor, true. But still in the house.”

As the weighty new concept oozes through the still-functioning cracks and crevices of his whisky-marinated brain, JC seems to soften a little all over and maybe even wilt slightly. His shoulders sag downward, and he twists anxiously around on the seat.

“So is he okay? Did they fucking catch him, for chrissakes? What happened after that? Where is he now? Is he all right?”

“Somebody grabbed him, just as his knees bottomed out. He didn’t fall flat on his face. His people rushed him back inside the car right away. He should be fine.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” JC mumbles a whisper to himself, sighing with a blanketed texture the others recognize as relief. And a much-welcome calmness. “This Florida humidity has always fucked with his respiratory system. But he’s always about keeping on going, no matter what……….Stubborn lil’ cocksucker.”

“Wait. Hold up a sec.” Chris feigns a look of outright startled confusion. ‘Cocksucker.’ Is that a BAD thing now?”

“Shut up, Kirkpatrick. Take your jokey jokes to the next booth.”

“Eat me.”

“See, Josh? Justin was doing what he said he’d do. What’d I tell you?”

“Great, Lance,” JC smirks. “You get to be his fucking rah-rah cheerleader.”

“C’mon, man. Jump back off me. What’d I do? I’m just trying to help you out here.”

“Sorry.”

“No big thing. You feeling better now?” Still concerned, Lance steps closer and peers down at him slumped in the corner in the shadows.

“Yeah. I guess. Maybe he at least tried……….Now the lil’ bastard has me all worried about him.”

JC finishes off the cocktail Chris had so kindly brought in and sets the cup on the table, indicating that he’s ready for another. “More, please……….And I said ‘please,’ so don’t gimme any shit.”

Nobody among the others protests. They all wordlessly agree that JC should be granted the simple gratification of the booze he asks for since they can’t magically produce the source of deep satisfaction he most wants: Justin T.

“So, Jace, buddy, are you done with the wanting-to-crucify-J act now, dude? ‘Cause I was kinda afraid for him back there, I gotta admit,” Chris giggles softly.

JC glances up with glimmering flecks of something near sadness in his eyes. “I guess I’ll keep him……….He’s worth it”

“Damn. You two love babies are gonna drive me to alcoholism. And I was already close enough to crawl,” Chris says from the background, twisting and cracking his neck with a groan.

“Shut up, Kirkpatrick.”

Then, as if he hadn’t heard any of that exchange, JC moves his blue-gray liquid-like gaze over to Joey, still seated next to him. “Joe……….*she* wasn’t here, was she?”

Joey groans and stretches out backward on the couch. “No, C. *She* wasn’t around for her photo op this time. Story was they just came back from the ol’ airport. So my guess is that Precious is leaving on a jet plane right about now, man. See ya, girlie.”

“I should go and check on him,” JC declares and starts to slither across the couch to get up. “Ouwww! Shit! My back’s turning into a mean bitch!”

“Sit tight, Chasez. You’re in no condition to be prancing over to the Loews now. You’re prolly worse off than J at the moment. I’m sure he’s getting all the help he can handle,” Joey tells him and shakes a scolding index finger at him as if he’s dealing with the feisty Brianna rather than the feisty JC.

“Man! You can’t stop me, Fatone.”

“Try me, Chasez.”

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

“Jace, are you sure? We can get you back to your digs, man. No problem. I mean, Christ, *somebody* needs to.”

JC wrinkles his nose and waves Chris and his sarcasm off, downing the last of his drink. It’s 45 minutes and several martinis later. And JC has just announced in a sluggish but yet still energized tone that it’s “time to blow this lemonade stand, cats. I got a sick boy to tend to.”

This is actually the third time he’s made this same proclamation since finding out that Justin took a nose dive trying to get in the club, but the others had gently and successfully convinced him that he was too drunk and too sore from his sunburn to do his boyfriend any good tonight and that both of them would be better off tomorrow if they just got plenty of rest.

Well, they’d been successful with their collective persuasion until now.

“Thanks, CK. But Carlos haz got it covered. He’s rolling in the Mercedeeeez tonight, man. And we need ta get ta stepping’.” JC giggles, far from inhibited or reserved by this point.

“Make him take you to your OWN room, Josh.”

“Stop bugging, Lance. You’re not my mom……….even dough you ‘bout the same size as her.” JC snickers again and reaches out to slap at Lance’s leg next to him but misses and snickers playfully some more. “‘Sides, J might have a fever and need some help, man. Why you asses wanna keep me from ‘im? Huh?”

“C, we ain’t trying to keep you from him. It’s just that he’s sick, and you’re way messed up. You BOTH need to be refreshed and sparkly tomorrow. We ain’t here on vacation, ya know. Peeps be watching, if you know what I mean.” Joey attempts to reason with him again. “So how ‘bout just being cool tonight and getting yourself some shut-eye instead of some tail?”

“Yeah, Josh. If Ju’s got a fever, you’ll just make it worse.”

“Hot……….very hot,” JC whispers to no one in particular. And grins absently at a private, apparently steamy daydream he’s enjoying, perhaps of a naked, feverish Justin. “Sizzling bare flesh on a hot, hot body……….he’s smokin’-hot.”

“Okay. That’s it. Dude is crazy. Somebody needs to go along with him and make sure he doesn’t wig again before he gets strapped to the damn bed.”

“Shu up, Chris,” JC slurs.

“Right, man. I’ll shut up if you promise not to set the whole fucking city on fire with your flaming.”

“Shu up, I said. Munchkin,” JC growls as best as he can, and Chris grins and blows him a kiss.

“I’ll do it. I’ve done it many times before,” Lance groans as he drags himself to his feet and pulls JC up with him. “C’mon, man. You wanted to go. Let’s go.”

“I don’t need you ssssshaperoning me, Lanz. You shu up too, damnit.”

As he’s hauled up to a standing position, JC’s baggy flower-adorned pants mystically blossom forth at least one treasure he’s been oblivious to all evening. His tiny silver cell thumps quietly to the floor.

“Shit! I forgot I had that fucker with me.”

“Dumbass.”

“Bite me, Kirrrpatrick.”

“So? Did he call?” Lance wants to know, sounding excitedly hopeful and smiling as JC bends at the knees to grab the dropped phone.

“Prob’bly not,” he mutters. But a certain expectant smile plays around the edges of his mouth and his eyes as he flips the metal hatch open and peers inside.

“Whoa, C. A fancy, schwancy little number you got there. Is it new?”

“Yeah.” JC’s still staring at the small screen, his smile beginning to bloom all over his face.

“Gift from your Boy Wonder?”

“Yeah.”

“Awww……….Somebody lurvs you, Jace.”

“Shu up, Joe. Fool.”

“Did he call or not, Josh? You’re killing me over here, you tease.” Still clutching a half-full cup, Lance is drunkenly anxious.

JC grimaces and growls at the little device. “Piece of shit! It’s always OFF!..........No, hang on……….Just muted ringer……….Yes, he did……….four times……….Damn. I fucking missed every one of ‘em……….I jusss hope to crap he’z okay.”

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

7:28 p.m.

“Hey, baby. It’s me. Thought I might catch ya before ya headed out for the night. I must be too late. Guess ya didn’t take your new phone with ya. But that’s cool. Just wanted to let ya know real quick that we’re here at the restaurant. Me, Moms, Trace and his girl, Cams, and some other hangers-on. The usual. All I gotta do is feed her now, and then she’s gone. Can hardly wait to see ya again, babe……….I can still taste you……….I might be late. Might miss out on the hunt stuff, but I’ll get there. I promise……….Love you.”

*“Here at the restaurant?” Why the hell? With HER? And how much had you already had to drink? Your voice sounds thick and weird. Or are you really that fucking sick? Bad vibes, man. I don’t like this much at all.*

8:19 p.m.

“How ya doing, sweetness? Me again. Look, babe. I was sorta hoping you’d call back and all. I miss ya, Jace. And it’s not going all wunnerful here eggxactly……….Cams is getting tanked and more tanked and partying her ass off, buying errybody and their brother drinks and shit and doing all that loud-ass laughing that I hate like hell……….I can’t seem to make ‘em all leave, baby……….Trace and Moms getting shit-faced and acting like drunk fools right along with her……….Come rescue me, my sexay Prince Charming……….Hahahahaha. I’m just kidding, babe. Hit me back when ya get dis……….Love, me.”

*Again, why’d you have to take her out, Justin? Why? Look where it’s gotten you. You can’t even see how she’s just deliberately keeping you from me with all that fronting and showing off and pretending to party crap? She knows exactly what the fuck she’s doing. She’s a spiteful bitch. And yeah. How much am I loving all the damn good-time whooping-it-up noises in the background. Nice. Especially when the skank yaps out, “Want some more champagne, Justin, BAY-BEE?” Just lovely. She sounds positively rabid. Thanks for fucking sharing that with me, love. Made my whole excellent night. Have some bubbly for me, how ‘bout it?*

10:21 p.m.

“Jace, I’m starting to trip over you not returning my buzzes, I gotta tell ya. Are ya getting these, baby? Ya avoiding me, sweetness? Why? I dropped Cameron at the airport. I’m on my way to Crobar. To you, baby. I hope you’re still waiting for me. Please ring me back, JC. Don’t make me wait, the way you like to do. Juss lemme know something……….Is that too damn much to ask? Love, J.”

*Oh, and the hunt and the after-party went fine without you, babe. Thanks for asking. No one even noticed you weren’t around. You should choose your glamorous girlfriend over all the rest of us more often. Asshole with Attitude.*

11:36 p.m.

(Former tone of anxious but confident anticipation replaced now by one of weak but angry tension)

“Okay, JC. Have your way. I’m over this shit. Now I got a clue why ya don’t wanna answer me……..I tried……….I got to the club. I was so ready to see you. But I couldn’t force myself to go inside……….Not after they tell me you’ve rolled on outta there already……….with……….Damnit, JC!……….Even if it IS a chick, it’s still CHEATING!……….Damn you. Is this your fucked-up way of revenge for Cameron? That’s just wrong, man……….Hope ya had lottsa fun getting your dick wet……….Fuck you and good night.”

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

JC snaps the little phone shut fiercely and glares out the windshield in front of him into South Beach darkness, which is occasionally punctuated with shimmering night lights. He doesn’t see those, however, nor is he aware of anything else rushing by outside the window either. He doesn’t feel the snug leather upholstery of Carlos’s midnight-black S600 sedan creasing and moulding around his ass to hug him in the comfortable passenger seat. The tiny red-orange flames flickering in his onyx pupils are about three times as hot as the deepening burning sensation that permeates the planes of his aching back.

“Take me home, man,” he says quietly, staring at nothing, dry and gravelly sounds underlying his few short words.

“Home to Orlando?”

“I wish. No, home to my room.”

“Not over to J’s hotel?”

“What did I just fucking say?” JC snarls again.

“Okay, okay. Gotcha, man. Don’t snark my head off. Jeez, Louise……….So what’s up? Something not kosher with him now?”

JC huffs irritably, trying desperately to wade through all the powerful emotions fighting for control inside him at the moment. “Carlos, how the fuck could he have gotten the idea that I left the club with some girl?”

Staring straight ahead at the highway in front of them, Carlos breaks a wide grin across his smooth face. “I heard that rumor too, dude. It was circulating like wild fire. You know how the horny chicks talk. Word was that you and some skinny mama were all hot and heavy on each other, so you took it back to your pad. Coupla people even came up and ask me. I laughed my ass off.”

“That’s not a bit damn funny. You’re a nerd, Carlos.”

“And you’re trashed, JC. You need to take your drunk, blistered ass to bed.”

“My ass didn’t get blistered.”

“And it ain’t getting fucked tonight either, man. At least not by J.”

“He sounded so pissed, man,” JC says, warily and softly.

“Just let him sleep on it. And you do the same. You can sort it all tomorrow.”

“I hope so.” JC’s notorious voice, as well as his boundless spirit, are reduced to a low whisper. “‘Cause I miss him like hell……….Without him, nothing feels right, man. And it just seems to keep getting wronger and wronger……….If I’d just heard his calls coming in.”

Carlos reaches over to pat JC’s shoulder soothingly, but then remembers the pained outburst he’d received when he did that earlier. So he quickly plows his fingers through the back of JC’s messy hair, just for the brief friendly contact he senses JC needs.

“JC, buddy, you’re both, like, super wound up and tense over seeing each other again. Then there’s all this explosive pressure and strain of having The New Bobbee Thomas in the picture too……….There’s bound to be some fireworks. You both with your dynamic personalities and this lightning-bolt love thing you’ve got……….Never a dull moment with you two. And you know you can’t stay away from each other much longer……….You *know* that, C. It’ll work out. Trust me. And it’ll be brilliant all over again.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m taking your word for it, man.”



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