Short Story: To Chorus
By: Sadie
Lyrics by and Based on the song “You Love Me” by Jill Scott



Night.

I go to sleep and it’s dark, the moon and stars glitter in the sky.

Morning.

I wake up and everything has changed. The sun has risen and hangs brightly against a background of dusky Los Angeles blue.

The world around me has completely metamorphasized into a new day, and I was asleep.

I wonder what else I’ve slept through.

I wonder when it was that I woke up and you had transformed.

When exactly was it, Lance, that you changed from being the shy, awkward, chubby-cheeked, closeted boy to the confident, intelligent, strong, beautiful man you are today? Was it overnight? Or days, weeks, months, years even? How long was I asleep?

I don’t know.

But, I’m awake now Lance. And I’ve noticed. And I continue to watch you, taking in everything about you. Noticing you and only you.

I brush out a small apparent wrinkle on my suit. I remember you reminding us how important it was for us to look professional in order for us to be taken seriously. Since when were you the leader?

I brush my teeth and head downstairs.

Wide-awake.



“Mornin’ Josh.” You wave carelessly with one hand, as the other cradles a, by now, luke-warm cup of the day. I’m baffled as to how you actually saw me, since you never so much as glanced up from the papers you were studying with our lawyer. Already, you were preparing for the day ahead of us, before the rest of us could even form complete sentences.

You look up momentarily as a waitress comes by to fill your dwindling supply of caffeine. You happen to turn your head slightly, and I catch it: Your Smile.

Your Smile.

Give me a summer day in the Bahamas: Sunglasses perched on the bridge of my nose, blanket spread over the white sand, and me laying, the sun glistening off my oiled body then bouncing in the clear sea-green ocean. And, it wouldn’t compare in warmth or brightness.

You ignite me.

“Would you like to go to dinner, Lance?” I ask almost nervously. Me. Nervous.
This is ridiculous.
“Sure.” You answer simply. “Let me go get Joey. I bet he’s starving too.”
That’s like you. To think of others. But I stop you.
“No.” Did I say that too quickly? “I mean…just you and me.” I shift awkwardly. How can he make me feel like I’m back on the Mickey Mouse Club asking Tony to play basketball? This is Lance.
“Oh.” Realization. Finally. For a second or two I thought you’d say no. That I would be rejected. Then you smiled. Your smile. My nerves vanish.
“I’d love to.” You continue. I’m not sure I hear this, but the smile was enough.
You got me feeling like the breeze: easy and free.


“Josh, we’re leaving now. Are you sure you don’t want to eat that?” Referring to my untouched bagel. “It’s going to be a long day.”
“Naw.” I shrug. “I’m just not that hungry.”
“Okay.” You comply, but not without a stern look.


I stare blankly at my hands, trying desperately to pay attention.

Pay attention, Josh. This is your life. Your money. Your career. None of this seems important. Not compared to the man sitting next to me. But I try to pay attention for your sake. I want to impress you. You keep me on my feet.

My leg shakes up and down impatiently, the way it often does during long interviews. I glance at your profile, hoping to capture a bit of your peace. You listen closely as our lawyer questions a representative from RCA Records.

I wonder what you hear.

I hear mumbled phrases or long terms for what I couldn’t begin to understand. All I want to do is sing. But you understand.

I can tell you are listening intently, taking in everything the lawyers are saying, memorizing each question you have, to be asked later. Your intelligence amazes me.

“Guys, I think we need to have a private talk.”
“What is it Lance?” I asked, concerned. Its not too often that Lance says that in a serious tone. The last time I could remember had been when Lance came out.. Which resulted in me also coming out and Justin admitting to his bisexuality. That was definitely a big night for the group. I wonder what this could be.
Justin is the last one in and closes the door.
“Guys,” you begin, “I was talking to my Uncle, the lawyer, because I felt that maybe we were not making the exact amount of money we should be, considering our success this year. And, well, I was right. It turns out the contract that we had signed onto when we first started working for Lou and RCA doesn’t bend at all, or work considering how much money we are making now. My uncle suggested we bring this up to them privately at first, but it may call for a law-suit.”
A what? Was I hearing him? Was this Lance speaking? Woah.
“Shit.” Chris swore as Lance handed over to him some papers with rough configurations for our salaries and profits Lou was making.
Lance was right. They didn’t add up.
“Lance. This is amazing. I mean, I kinda felt like something was wrong. But, wow. This is great. I mean…Its bad. But great that you figured it out.” I feel like an idiot. You give me things to think about.
I put my hand on your shoulder. Its surprisingly warm, even through your sweat-shirt. I don’t move my hand. You don’t move away as I let it travel slowly down to the small of your back as we continue to discuss our plan of action.


“This court is dismissed. And will re-adjourn tomorrow by 10 a.m. to hear the closing-statements.”

I say a silent prayer of thanks. I hate this.

Now. The fans.

We go outside and are bombarded by signs and shrieks of “I love you”, piercing my tired ears.

You smile again. This isn’t Your Smile. Its your courteous smile. There’s a difference that only I know. You wave gracefully, simultaneously trying to ward off unwanted pictures.

Your hands.

Have Degas paint a thousand portraits of ballerinas, in their flowing white skirts and rehearsed dance steps and porcelain frames and he would not capture the grace and pure beauty that resides in your hands. I cant help but wonder what they’d feel like caressing me, tracing a path down my sweaty chest. Would they be hot? Like a fire, flaming my entire body with passion. Or possibly cool, like a winter breeze, sending chills down my naked flesh.

We sat at a small café, not far from the hotel we were staying at.
“I’ve talked to you everyday, Lance. But, now I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything.” A logical solution.
Suddenly you take a pen out of your bag and begin to scribble something down on your napkin.
You finish and slide it over to me.
‘You’re cute, Josh.’ I read it and look up and you’re blushing. A perfect pink color fills your cheeks. I grab your pen and write down my own message.
‘You’re cuter.’ I slide it back to you. Your blush deepens and you put both the napkin and pen in your bag. Your hand slips across the table and takes mine gently. Your long, nimble fingers entwine in mine. You make me feel so easy and free and lovely and me.


“Love, JC Chasez” I sign some girls piece of paper, quickly making my way into the limo.

You were already talking to the lawyer, asking your questions. How do you have any energy?
I sit back, close my eyes, and drift slowly off to sleep.
A pleasant smell wakes me from my sleep. Your cologne.
Pleasant is an understatement.

Your cologne.

Everything comforting as Christmas Eve. Baked cookies and cinnamon. Mom kissing me goodnight, and me squinting my eyes shut, trying to force slumber.
Everything as sexy as two naked bodies, embracing for the first time. Reaching, pulling, scratching, fumbling, incoherently tasting every part of the other’s body.

“I know it wasn’t much tonight, Lance. But I had fun. I’m…I…thank you.”
“JC you invited me. So thank you. We should…do this again sometime. I know everything is nuts right now with the lawsuit, but this is a beginning.”
“I’m looking forward to the rest.”

You court me.

You lean in slightly and wrap me in a tender hug. No. A hug is what we give before a show. This was an embrace. You held me in your arms and ran your hand down my back as I nuzzled your neck. Engulfing my self in your cologne, memorizing your unique and delicious smell.
When you let go I can still smell you. I carry the smell with my into my room. I’m afraid to change for bed, afraid I may lose some of you. So I lay down in my clothes and, in a Lance-induced euphoria fall blissfully into slumber.

You woo me.

“Josh. Josh.” I inhale your smell deeply and wake with a start. “Wake up, Josh. We’re back at the hotel. I’ll order us some food. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
I blink and step out of the limo. My stomach growls. How do you know things like that?



“I’m nervous.” I admit. I take another bite of an eggroll.
“You have no need to be, Josh. I’m pretty sure this case is in the basket. I just don’t see how we could lose at this point. Besides, who’d want to let down a beautiful face like yours.”

You tease me.

“Please. Lance, I’m serious. What if we lose? What’ll happen to us then?”
“Nothing. We still have each other. I still have you. You still have me. We’ll be perfect.”

You like me. Especially, different.

“…Lance…” I begin cautiously.
“Yes?” You raise your eyebrows.
“Last week…after our date, or whatever that was. You said that this was the beginning. But of what exactly? What are we beginning?”
Your hand brushes my face, its warm as it makes a path down my cheek and I lean willingly into the touch.
I can’t control it. When you touch me, I cant hold my emotions any longer. You overwhelm me.
Tears streak down my cheeks and land delicately on your hand.
“What’s wrong, Josh?”
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s perfect. You. You are perfect. Your Smile. Your Hands. Your Intelligence. Everything about you, I don’t know when it became so perfect. And I don’t care about winning or the money . All I want is you.”
Silence. You let more tears land on your hands, that you refused to move from my face.
Then I feel your lips. The feeling is new to me. And, incomparable to anything else or any other thing about you.
They caress mine slowly, then leave mine briefly to whisper.
“Then I’m yours, Josh. Everything you love about me, is yours.”

Love. I love you from your hair follicles to your toe-nails.

I feel your lips again. This time more passionately as they suck on mine. I open my lips allowing for your tongue to make an entrance and begin to caress my own. I decide quickly that I love your tongue. It works quickly caressing mine, you push gently, taking control as you rest on me on top of the plush comforter. Your hands begin to work their way up my chest as I caress your back. I let my fingers slip under the seem of your once wrinkle free button up shirt. I caress milky smooth porcelain skin, that burns my hands. I feel the beginning of your erection as you press your body closer to mine, closing any space between us. Warding off anything that threatened to separate us.
“Josh..” I hear you groan into my ear, before you bite down, gently on the lobe.
“Do you even realize what you do to me?” I manage to form a complete sentence.
“I think I have an idea.” You begin at my top button, undoing it slowly, and planting a kiss on the flesh that it revealed. Then working on the next button. Tantalizingly slow, causing me to groan uncontrollably as I felt my erection harden and my pants grow tight. I bucked my hips as I felt your hand over the tight bulge in my pants. Slowly you worked the zipper down, and I felt your hot breath caressing the thin layer of my boxer-briefs.
Your Degas hands work their way over my erection, and as you reach up to kiss me, passionately groping my lips with your own, I’m surrounded once again by your cologne, and I slip into the Lance-induced euphoria. Moving with your motions, removing your clothes along with mine, feeling your flesh rub gently and roughly against my own. Teeth nipping at delicate skin and cold breath burning flesh that had been long since touched with such love. Its hard for me to take you all in at once. You overwhelm me. So instead I focus on one part at a time. But, the comforting smile you flash me before your slick erection enters my tight hole, mixes with your now, husky sex-muted cologne and I groan loudly as images of Christmas joy, sex fumbling and white sunny beaches all painted, with a thick impasto in the style of Degas fuse into one erotic image that sends me over the edge.
I scratch my nails down your sweat slicked back as I come, tears sting my eyes, when I hear your voice, moaning my own name lowly in my ear as you climax. I pull you tighter, not yet wanting to let go. Not ready to release this love that I held tightly in my arms.

“I love you so much. Everything about you.” I breathe heavily into his ear.

You please me.

“I’m yours to love, Josh. Every part of me is yours. And this is just the beginning.” Is your reply as you kiss a gently along my jaw.

We didn’t we move. We couldn’t move. Neither of us wanted to be the first to break this moment, this night, this bond. So, we didn’t. All night, we lay unclothed, in each other’s arms.

At some point you fell asleep. But I couldn’t.

All night I lay wide awake. Just taking in the sight of you beside me. Memorizing each new part. Contemplating my new love until the sun rose.

I watched carefully as the first signs of morning, in mango and plum tinted the sky. I watched each step of the sunrise, and the birds begin to wake and come-alive in the trees outside our window. I watched as the stars and moon vanished behind a curtain of sunshine and blue sky.

It was the most beautiful transformation I had ever seen.

And I lay wide awake, taking in every detail. Knowing I would never forget one second of this dawn.






You Love Me
By Jill Scott

You love me, especially different. Every time you keep me on my feet. Happily excited by your cologne, your hands, your smile, your intelligence, you woo me, you court me, you tease me, you please me, you school me. Give me things to think about. Invite me, you ignite me, co-write me, you love me, you like me, you incite me to chorus.
You’re different and special in every way imaginable. You love me from my hair follicles to my toe-nails. You got me feelin’ like the breeze, easy and free. Easy and free and lovely and me. I cant control it, when you touch me. I just cant hold it, the emotion inside me. I can feel it.