"No
shadow
No stars
No moon
No care
November"
- Tom Waits "November"
I moan lowly, a hand on the back of the head in my lap. The short
hair is spiked and
hard, but I keep touching because hey, he's blowing me. Might
as well let him know I'm enjoying it. I roll my hips a bit and
he takes it. Fantastic. I grin and thrust now as he opens his
mouth and stays still. Nothing like fucking someone's face to
make a guy smile.
The
cell phone is ringing and I ignore it because I know who it is.
It's JC because he's got some sort of built-in JC radar that knows
exactly when I'm getting some. I could just be getting to feel
up some chick outside of a club and JC would show up to tell me
that he's got an idea and we need to talk about it.
JC's
weird and thinking about him right now really pisses me off to
no end and I thrust harder than I mean to and come and the guy
is choking and pulling back and sitting on his heels as he gasps
for air.
"Oh
shit," I sit forward. "I'm sorry, man."
The kid waves his hand and I see how young he is. He's already
come, I always go down on them first, so he's ready to go. He
lets himself out of the RV and I reach for the phone that's still
ringing, wondering where Ron and the others are at. Probably still
at the club.
"What
do you want, JC?" I lie back, my hand cradling my dick in my hand,
petting it lightly. It likes that post-sex.
"I
don't like my house." JC sounds drunk, but really, that's nothing
new these days.
"Then
go somewhere else," I say easily. "You in LA or Orlando?"
"Orlando,"
JC hiccups and I hear shifting next to him. "Mariana is here."
"Baby,"
I say softly. "If you need to run away, go to my house. Just leave
her a note this time."
"Where
are you?" asks JC. "Can I come to you?"
"I'm
in Arizona," I say, finally putting my satisfied dick away. "You
don't want to come here."
"I'm
going to go," JC's voice is a whisper and before I can protest,
he hangs up. I groan and hang up as well. JC confuses me.
It
was Ron's idea to go to Tijuana, but I definitely didn't protest.
Tequila is cheap, pot is plentiful, and Mexican women are gorgeous.
I
set the phone on vibrate and line tequila shots up on the bar,
laughing at Ron as dances on a table with some girl.
I
have arms around my waist, and breasts pushed up against my back.
She laughs merrily in my ear and tells me stories in broken English,
stuff she wants to do to me when we leave the bar. I decide I
love this girl and make plans to marry her somewhere between shot
number 10 and shot number 20.
I'm
licking a line between her breasts when the phone vibrates. I'm
only half-aware of it and I shift a little to get the vibrating
closer to my aching dick. I suck a nipple into my mouth and Ron
taps my shoulder.
"What?"
I growl, looking at him.
Ron just holds out his cell phone to me. "It's for you. Tell your
friends not to call on my phone anymore."
I
grab the cell phone angrily. "What the hell do you want, JC? I'm
a little busy right now."
"Chris?"
I
pause. "Lance?"
"Yeah,"
Lance is quiet, too quiet in the loud bar with a half-naked girl
in front of me. "How are you?"
I
cup my hand over my ear and push my way out of the loud bar. Ron
is already moving in on the girl I was with; doesn't matter. He
probably would have fucked her after me anyway.
"Sorry,"
I say as I lean against the outside wall. "What did you say, Lance?"
"I
asked how you were."
"Good,"
I grin at nothing, looking up at the sky. I like Tijuana. "I'm
a little drunk, okay a lot drunk, but I'm great. I love Mexico."
"You're
in Mexico?" Lance sounds surprised. I guess he hasn't looked at
the tour itinerary he made me make months ago.
"Tijuana,"
I say happily. The world is spinning. It's beautiful. "I think
I might marry this girl."
"I'm
in Orlando," Lance says, his voice firm and sad at the same time.
"Come home."
"Tempting,"
I say sarcastically. There's nothing there for me. Out here, on
the open road, that's where home is right now. "But no."
"Chris,"
Lance's voice is steely now. "We're all here. You need to come
home now."
I
sober slightly, thinking that hey, Lance is supposed to be in
Russia and he's in Orlando and telling me I need to come home
right away.
"Is
JC okay?" My voice trembles slightly because I can't think of
anyone else it could be.
"This
isn't about JC," Lance sounds angry now. "This is about the future
of Nsync, you shit. Now come home before I come get you myself."
"Go
fuck yourself," I hang up the phone and shove it in my pocket.
I'm sober now and I really hate it when Lance orders me around
like I'm a little kid. I hate the fact that I listen even more.
I don't listen
right away; that would be giving Lance too much satisfaction.
I hang around Tijuana for another couple of days and fuck some
beautiful woman named Mariana because she's got the same name
as JC's girlfriend.
Ron drives
us back across the border, letting me sit in the back of the RV
and mope. I smoke a lot of pot as we drive across Southern California.
I don't want to go home because there is nothing happy waiting
for me there. Here, on the open road, I can pretend that everything
is perfect.
I call my
mother twice and see if she's heard anything. She tells me that
I need to grow up and face whatever is happening. I'm 31 years
old. It's time to take a little more responsibility for myself
and my friends.
I hang up
on her both times and swear that I won't ever call her again unless
she agrees with whatever I'm saying. Ron snorts and pulls off
the road to take a leak. He kisses me as he walks past, telling
me that it'll be okay.
He drops me
off at the airport in San Diego and watches as I walk into the
building. It's been a week since Lance called. I know they've
made their decisions without me. I don't even think about what
those decisions might be. I can't think about them.
I need the
four of them too much.
My
house is dark and decrepit looking. I kick at the weeds that were
threatening to take over the front lawn. Everything else is dead,
but the weeds, they are living the high life at my lawn's expense.
I should have hired someone to take care of the place for me.
I
push aside two months worth of junk mail and open the front door.
I can hear a TV on in the distance and part of me wonders if I
left it on when I took off. I did leave quickly.
The
lights are off in the whole house and I go into the living room
and shut off the TV.
"I
was watching that."
I
jump, dropping my bag at the same time. JC is sitting on the couch
wearing a pair of boxers and nothing else. His hair is a big mess
and he's got at least a week's worth of beard on his chin. His
eyes are cold and when he looks at me, I shiver.
"I
didn't know anyone was here," I sit on the couch next to him.
He looks so small, his knees pulled up to his chest. His cheekbones
jut out and his eyes are surrounded by dark circles. "You could
have at least brought the mail in."
"It's
over, Chris," JC's voice breaks. "It's all over."
"What's over?" I move closer to him and try to unwrap JC from
himself, try to make him come to me. He resists and I put an arm
around him.
"Us.
Nsync. Everything."
My
heart thuds against my chest and I shake my head. "We're not done."
"Yes
we are," JC looks up at me and I can't look away from his crazy
eyes. "Justin. Justin's not coming back. Too big. Too famous.
Likes being alone. Joey got another show. He starts in January
and it runs until May. Lance…" JC's voice hitches and I touch
him again. "Lance is in love and his name's Viktor and Lance isn't
coming back from Russia because Viktor doesn't want to move to
America. We're. All that's left is you and me. No more NYN. Just
SC. All that's left is the SC."
I
can't hear him anymore and JC's still babbling, his mouth moving
and his hands fluttering all about. I think I'm dying. I might
even be dead right now. I didn't want to imagine this, but I knew
this was why Lance called. Hands are touching my face and JC's
on top of me, pushing me backwards and he's kissing me and saying
something about how we can't let them pull us apart. We can't
be alone.
I
find out that JC tastes like blood and regret.
We
fuck for a week straight and promise each other that we'll never
leave, we'll never let them break us apart. Lance knocks on the
door everyday at 3, leaves papers for us to sign and never lets
himself in. Justin calls, alternating between the cell phones
and the house phone. Both JC and I let our cell batteries die
and refuse to recharge them. The rest of the world doesn't exist
and I almost believe that we can live forever in my dark house,
fucking and making promises we can't keep.
JC
wanders around the house naked, his body soft and shapeless in
the shadows. I watch him from corners and feel like a predator
stalking his prey.
His
teeth sink into my flesh though, and I'm the one to cry out and
submit. He devours me and I let him, lying on my back and staring
at the ceiling. Outside the sun is shining and the sky is blue.
I can hear a lawnmower buzzing underneath my window and I cry
out again as JC tears his nails into my skin.
I
wonder where the RV is right now, whether or not Ron finished
the trip without me. I told him to keep going, to explore the
world like he wanted to. I never got to see Montana and suddenly
that ache is so strong, I want to cry.
JC
lies next to me and I hear the lawnmower shut off. He doesn't
move or make a sound as he looks at me. His blue eyes stopped
being feral days ago, but there's no life in them anymore. JC
is as dead as I am.
"I
want to go to Montana," I say. I don't recognize my own voice.
"Let's go to Montana."
JC
sits up and I see his ribs underneath his skin. I count them twice
before he says anything.
"Montana
is cold in November."
"We'll
wear sweaters."
JC
lies down again and rests his head on my chest. I touch his hair,
getting my fingers tangled in the multitude of knots. He hasn't
showered in days; neither have I.
"Will
we be alone in Montana?"
I
let out a shaky breath and JC's fingers touch the bloody marks
he left on my skin. Little dots of blood pepper my stomach and
arms. Dark bruises shadow JC's arms and legs. I don't remember
leaving those marks, but I must have. There are finger marks that
match up with my fingers.
"Montana
is empty," I promise. "It'll just be you and me."
"Okay,"
JC's voice is small and broken.
I
swallow thickly and pull JC as close as I can get him. I want
his skin to be my skin, his heart to touch my heart. I want to
hide forever in the shadows of his body. He clings to me and I
promise myself that I won't let him go. I can't be alone again
and JC needs me just as much as I need him. We're perfect, he
and I. Perfectly fucked up. And all we've got is each other.
"What do you call a hiatus that never ends?"
I look at JC and his eyes flicker with life briefly before they
sink into death again. I kiss his bruised and puffy lips and hear
the lawnmower start again.
"Us."