Into Thin Air

Jen, one of my new buds and a co-editor at
Laugh a Little wrote this short. I won't describe it or anything 'cause I'd give it away... hehe. Here it 'tis.
May 6th, 2000

Joey? Are you there? Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up. Okay, I guess you're not. Well, we're waiting for you. We've been waiting for you. You're, oh, three hours late. Hurry your ass up. Whatever your doing. Just get here. We're getting worried. Call us if you can't make it. Peace.

~*~

Lance rewound the tape and played it again. It was over a year old, and surprisingly, it still played without a problem. The message was one left when Joey was late for a get together the guys were having. Very late. He never showed up.

Police searched everywhere for him. They combed rivers and lakes for his body. He was no where to be found. He literally vanished without a trace. Disappeared. No warning, no signs, no note, no nothing. He was gone. And they hadn't heard a word from him for over a year.

After six months, the police and the other three guys gave up. They were sure Joey was either dead, or somewhere where he didn't want to be found. Lance was determined to find Joey. He was all over the Internet, looking for any clues to possibly crack the mystery of the disappearance of Joey Fatone. But six months of searching brought nothing. Not one thing. And, reluctantly, Lance gave up.

He recently had the idea of pulling Joey's answering machine tape out, and listening to that. The cops hadn't tried that. He didn't know why. Maybe they didn't realize Joey had an answering machine...? Well, whatever the reason, Lance had the small hope that Joey had called his own house, and left a message for the guys to hear, telling them he was coming back, okay, alive, something, anything. After listening to the whole tape 10 times through, Lance finally figured out that Joey hadn't left them a message, and the one small shred of hope that was left, vanished. Lance let himself give up completely, and try his hardest to forget about his best friend.

~*~

NSync was over. How could the four men function as NSync without the Y?

Justin was moving; Lance was helping him.

"Could you get that box off that shelf?" Justin asked lugging a box out of the room. Lance stood up on a chair, and lifted the box off the high shelf. The bottom gave out completely, and a plethora of papers and pictures fell onto the floor, and scattered across the room.

"Crap," Lance muttered leaning over. He began to pick up the papers, and sat down as he picked up a picture.

The setting was Joey's backyard. The guys were having a bar-b-que. JC was standing at the grill, flipping hamburgers, and the rest of the guys were playing chicken in the pool. Lance smiled, and before tears could form in his eyes, he quickly covered the picture with another. Not a good idea.

The new one was of Joey on the couch, with Lance half on top of him. Joey had Lance in a headlock, and Lance was clearly struggling to get out of the older man's grip.

"Lance, give it up," a soft voice sounded from the doorway.

"Justin, I can't," Lance said.

"Well, you can't spend your whole life wondering why he left, and where he went."

"So, am I just supposed to forget about him?" Lance asked angrily.

"I'm not having this conversation with you again," Justin said, grabbing the pile of papers from Lance's hand. "We've discussed this countless times, Lance."

"And what?"

"GET OVER IT!!" Justin yelled. "Damn!"

"I just can't..." Lance whispered. "I'm not going to until I find out why he did this to us. Why he caused us all this pain." His voice began to rise. "Why he would leave the people he cares about the most! Why he would make his family and friends worry if he's dead or not. Break millions of girls' hearts by causing the break up of NSync!" He stood up and walked to the window, flinging it open. "Why he would just walk out on everything! Why he would ruin everyone's lives by what he did! Why he would cause me to have a fucking mid-life crisis at 21!!" He screamed out the open window. Several passer-bys looked up at him, as he leaned over the window, and began to sob loudly.

Justin stayed back at the doorway. He was used to this behavior from his band-mates. This was nothing compared to the breakdown's JC was having lately.

"Lance-" Justin took a step forward. "Come on, this isn't going to change anything." He took a few more steps and helped Lance up. "Please stop." He said looking into Lance's face. "This won't bring him back."

"I know," Lance whispered. "I know."

"Come on, let's go get something to eat," Justin suggested, putting a comforting arm around Lance. "Maybe it will get your mind off things."

"I doubt it," Lance grumbled.

~*~

Lance was awoken out of a deep sleep by a loud ringing. "Whazzat?" he mumbled popping his head out of the blankets. He reached for the phone.

"Mm, hello?" he said.

"Lance?"

"Yeah, who's this?" There was silence. "Hello? I'm here." A dog could be heard barking on the other end. "Hello?" He sat up and gripped the phone tightly. "Joey? Joey, is that you?" The person sighed. "Joey? Oh god, if that's you, please answer me!" Tears started to roll down his cheeks. "Joey? COME ON!" There was a click, and the line went busy.

"Shit, shit, shit.." Lance hung up the phone. He picked it up after a few seconds and dialed *69. When the voice asked if he wanted to be connected to the last number that called him, he pressed one for yes. The phone rang three times before a woman's voice answered.

"Hi, did Joey Fatone just call here?"

"What? I don't know. This is a pay phone." The woman said.

"Did you see the last person that used it?" Lance asked frantically.

"Um, yeah, I did. He just walked away."

"Can you call him back to the phone?"

"Sure, hold on," The woman began to yell. She got back on the phone after a few seconds. "No, he kept walking. I'm sorry."

"Shit...,what did he look like?" Lance asked.

"He had sorta spiked up black hair, tall, I'd say around six foot, built, he was a big guy. He had on a light blue sweater and jeans--"

"Ok, thanks," Lance said. "I appreciate your help."

"No problem," the woman said. "I hope you work out whatever is going on."

"Thanks," Lance mumbled before hanging up the phone.

~*~

"Guys, he called me."

Chris paused the game him and Justin were playing. JC looked up from the book he was reading.

"Who did?" Chris asked.

"Joey."

Justin scoffed. "Please, Lance. You're so desperate for him to come back, you'll believe anyone was him."

"No, Justin!" Lance stood up defiantly. "It was him!"

"And how do you know that?" Justin asked, also standing up.

"I just know!" Lance yelled. "Justin, he called, he said my name. Then he hung up. Who the hell else could it be?!"

Before Justin could reply, JC spoke up. "Nothing else?"

Lance turned to JC. "No, that was it."

"Was it a local call?" Chris asked.

"Oh," Lance plopped back down on the couch. "I don't know. I didn't get the number. *69'ed it, and it was a payphone."

"Well, at least we know he's alive," JC whispered.

"You don't even know if this was Joey or not!" Justin screamed. "Why can't you guys just accept the fact that he's gone?!" He dropped to the floor, onto his knees, and began to pull angrily at his hair. "He's gone!! GONE!!"

"Justin," Chris dropped the Playstation controller and rushed to Justin's side. "Calm down!" He embraced the younger man, and tried to stop his screaming.

"He's GONE!! He's NOT coming back!!" Justin shouted. "Accept it!! He's GONE!!"

Lance looked helplessly to JC, who was staring at Justin, with a sad look on his face. "Who knew..." he said softly.

Justin's screams diminished into sobs, and he reluctantly leaned into Chris's embrace. Chris began to rock him back and forth as he clung tightly onto Chris's shirt.

Lance looked around the room, at all the hurt Joey had caused. His breathing began to deepen, and he felt his anger boiling inside him. He clenched his fists together, trying to suppress the urge to hit something, break something, kill something.

"Fuck you, Fatone!!" he screamed, and ran out the front door, slamming it behind him.

~*~

Lance turned over sleepily, and glanced at the clock. It read 11:24. "Oh, Jesus," He moaned sitting up. He stretched, letting out a loud yawn, and stumbled into the bathroom. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. He spent most of the night thinking about the anger that had replaced the sorrow in his mind. He was nothing but pissed off at Joey for what he did. He ruined everyone's lives in his actions. If he came back, Lance wondered if he would even be happy anymore.

After he had splashed cold water on his face, he walked out of the bathroom, and down the stairs to get something to eat. A big lump was stretched out on his couch, covered in a big blue comforter. As Lance got closer, he noticed that the lump's whole body was covered, except for his wild dark hair. Lance recognized the spikes as JC's. JC had ended up on Lance's couch a lot lately. He had confided in Lance that he was afraid he was going to disappear too. Lance told JC that he could use his spare key whenever he wanted, to sleep on the couch or in the guest room. JC usually chose the couch, because there was a TV in the living room.

Lance just shook his head and went into the kitchen to make some breakfast. Deciding he wasn't in the mood to cook, he pulled a box of Cheerios out of the cabinet, along with two bowls, and filled them both to the top. He poured milk into one of the bowls and walked back into the living room.

"JC," He said loudly. "Wake up. I brought you some cereal." The lump moved. "JC! Come on, it's gonna get soggy!" He made a move to put the bowl on the coffee table, when the lump stretched out from under the blanket, and yawned.

Lance dropped the bowl, spilling cereal and milk all over the table and carpet. He wasn't sure if his eyes were working right. From what they were telling him, Joey was laying on his couch, smiling faintly up at him.

"Hi Lance," he said softly, sitting up.

"You, you're..."

"Yeah, I'm back," Joey stood up and walked over to Lance.

"You asshole!!" Lance yelled socking Joey hard in the arm.

"Ow," Joey complained rubbing his bicep. "What was that for?"

"Do you know what you did to us?" Lance cried, tears forming in his eyes. "Do you know how much we worried? Do you know how many sleepless nights I had, because I was wondering if you were alive or not? I hate you for what you did to us!!" Lance's breathing deepened, and he tried hard not to cry.

"Lance, I'm sorry, you just had no idea--"

"Of what?" Lance asked. "What you were going through? You could have talked to us! You could have set up a therapist, anything! But you left us. You cause Justin and JC to practically have nervous breakdowns. You caused me to stop what was going on in my life, to try to find you. You cause Chris to clam up, and barely ever say a word to us! And you don't even know what you did to your mom and dad! Where the fuck have you been?!"

"Around," Joey whispered. "I had to get away. I couldn't handle it anymore. It was leave or kill myself."

"You could have gotten help Joey!" Lance had to stop; the sobs in his throat were restricting his voice. When he spoke again, his voice was tiny and scared. "You don't know how much we worried. You were gone for a year. No phone call, letter, nothing. You don't know the shit I've gone through for the past year."

"Lance, look, I'm sorry, I just had to get away. I couldn't handle the fame anymore," Joey ran his hands shakily through his hair. "I was this close to ending my life. You remember the night, I talked to you, when we were in the hotel room? The night before I left?" Lance nodded. "After you left, I slit my wrists. Look." Joey lifted up the sleeves of his sweater and two deep scars appeared on the under-side of his wrists. "See? After I did it, I realized I didn't want to die, I just needed some time alone, away from everything."

"I can't believe you," Lance sobbed, pulling Joey into a tight hug. "Don't ever do this again," he whispered. "Please. Don't put me through this again."

"I won't," Joey said, hugging Lance back. "I won't."

"Promise me," Lance demanded, pulling out the hug. "I'll forgive you, if you promise me."

Joey smiled. "I promise. I got some help. I'm okay now."

"Good, good. Thank you," Lance pulled Joey into another hug, this one lasting longer then the previous one. "I'm glad you came back."

"Me too," Joey said. He ended the hug, and glanced down at the mess of soggy Cheerios on the carpet. "Now come on, I'll help you clean up this mess, then we'll call the guys."

~*End*~


Mail Jen
back to main