Disclaimer: I do not know N Sync. This is a purely fictional story created in the recesses of my warped mind. Any similarities with actual people is merely coincidental. This is a short one, well, shorter one. I didn't want to start the next scene just yet. It's one in the morning and I need to go to bed. I didn't want to rush the next scene, so I decide to cut this chapter in half. Comments are welcome at xykos@earthlink.net
Oh, when I was looking back at what I've written, I noticed that I haven't been crediting the lyrics I've been using. So: Chapter One: Music by Frank Wildhorn, Lyrics by Leslie Bricusse, taken from the musical, Jekyll & Hyde' Chapter Two: Music by Andrew Lloyd-Webber, Lyrics by Tim Rice, taken from the musical, Evita' Chapter Three: Music by ALW, Lyrics by Jim Steinman, taken from the musical, Whistle Down the Wind' Chapter Four: Music by Elton John, Lyrics by Tim Rice, taken from the musical, Aida' Chapter Five: Music by John Kander, Lyrics by Fred Ebb, taken from the musical, `Kiss of the Spiderwoman'
Anyway, on with the show . . .
enjoy.
Elaborate Lives Chapter Six
Time looks kindly on fleeting lovers,
They can turn the briefest hour into a day.
Turn a moment to a lifetime
Making it to last, blending future with the past
Music by Andrew Lloyd Weber
Lyrics by Alan Ayckbourn
From the musical `By Jeeves'
I hated the sun.
It was a perfect day, The sun was shining bright, the water calm, the trade winds blowing gently, as if someone was whispering sweet nothings in your ear. I hated it.
Now, I know what you're thinking, I'm from Hawaii, how could I hate the sun? One of life's greatest mysteries, I suppose. I gave up trying to write in the heat long ago, content on watching the filming of the wedding scene instead. I sat next to Spielberg under the shade as I squinted at the crowd on the rocks by the water. No matter how uncomfortable I was, Christina was probably ten times more so in that wedding dress. Thank the gods this wasn't a very long scene, but it was still taking forever. 'And I thought I was a perfectionist,' I thought as I glared at the director siting next to me, torturing me with the heat. `How many different ways can you shoot a scene, anyway?'
At least a hundred, as Steven stopped the filming yet again to set up another angle. The cast began to move around, thankful for the short break. I noticed James trying to catch my eye, but I started to talk to Steven instead. I was still uncomfortable about everything that happened last night. I knew I had to deal with my problems about the relationship sooner or later, but I couldn't face it just yet. I didn't want what we had started to end this way; hell, I didn't want it to end at all. Eventually, I would have to face the fact that James was a rising star again, and that meant we had to hide us. I sighed heavily and Steven stopped talking, realizing I wasn't hearing a damn word he said. He just turned away and had a chat with the camera lead, finding out how long the set up would take. I just sat there and wallowed in my self pity, soaking in the abhorrent sun.
Finally, at ten `til five, Steven let me leave. There was only one more shot left that day and there was no need for me to stay. They weren't going to waste a whole day's worth of filming because they didn't like a line. I gratefully headed toward the car, avoiding all eyes. I just wanted to soak in a tub filled with ice water. I had forgotten how easily I burned; my arms, face and legs were lobster red, radiating from within unnaturally.
There was a knock on my door. The bathroom door. I sat up from the tub, reaching for a towel as I saw the door opening.
"James!" I forgot I gave him my card key when we first arrived. "You scared the shit out of . . . Why are you all dressed up?"
James entered the bathroom completely, dressed to the nine. Midnight black Armani suit, Calvin Klein shirt that sparkled in the florescent lighting of the bathroom, high-polished Rockports gleaming like black suns. Dressed to kill, I wouldn't have minded one bit to be the intended victim, I thought wickedly.
"Sorry to bother you, I knocked for five minutes, and I had to come in or we'll be late." He glanced down at me, still in the tub, and quickly turned away. "I don't really think you mind, though." I saw a smile forming on his lips. I was bewildered, Why was he acting so nervous, like he never seen me before in . . . the . . . tub. Naked. My burned face, already regaining it's healthy color because of the ice bath, flamed a deep crimson yet again, but this time because of the rush of blood. And I thought ice baths were supposed to take care of these problems of blood rushing to places at the most awkward times. I quickly covered up and stood, letting the water drip down from my body. James handed me another towel, which I accepted gratefully.
"Late for what?" I asked as I hurriedly dried myself. James had preoccupied himself with a painting, giving me a little privacy. I quickly threw on the boxers. "OK, I'm decent."
He turned around, still smiling. "I have a surprise for you, Mr. Goodman. Now get dressed."
I looked at James for a moment, trying to figure out what he was up to. Unable to guess, I shook my head and went into the main room. I found my suit and tie spread out on the bed. Great, I had to wear clothes. Stifling clothes. I wanted to say something about the outfit, but I didn't want to make another scene. It seemed like we never saw eye to eye, and I wondered again where we were heading.
I shook my head fiercely as my thoughts strayed into territories I didn't want to go to. This felt too good to end. I wanted to make it work, and it seemed James wanted the same thing. As I started getting dressed, I realized I wanted to be with James more than anything. Even if what we had could never be perfect. But what relationship ever could?
"James?" I called out softly. He moved closer to me as I looked up at him, a light smile on my lips which he returned. "I'm sorry about last night. I just need time to get used to this situation, I guess."
"Don't worry about it, Alex. I'm adjusting too." His smile faded for a moment. "But I don't want something like last night to happen again."
I gave him a quizzical look. Surely he couldn't expect us never to has another fight, could he?
He saw my questioning look and continued. "The only thing that's going to keep us together is if we can communicate with each other. It hurt me more than you will know when you shut down on me last night and then totally ignoring me today at the shoot. If this is ever going to survive, we need to talk, not keep things bottled up."
I nodded, understanding and agreeing. "Never again. I promise." His face lit up again and we moved into a kiss, tender and light.
"Damn it!" James pounded the steering wheel again and we came to another dead end.
"Wouldn't it be easier if you told me where we were going?" I ventured nervously.
"What would be easier is if these streets made any sense. And that they had pronounceable names." James muttered angrily. We were lost in downtown Honolulu. Well, he was lost, actually. I knew exactly where we were but I had no idea where he was heading.
"Yeah, but they're not making sense, so tell me, `K, hon?"
His scowl softened as he calmed down. "But it's supposed to be a surprise."
I wanted to laugh, but that would just aggravate the situation. "James, look at me. It starts at 8 and it's already 7:40. This is a great surprise, and I'm glad you thought of it, but do you really want to miss it.
"Fine," he sighed dejectedly. "Where's the NBC Concert Hall?"
Easy one. "Neil Blasdale? Head two block that way and turn right onto Kamehameha." He gave me a quick smile and turned the car around.
Now, what was playing at NBC? I searched my brain for some spark, some glimmer.
I smiled. "The Hunchback Of Notre Dame?" He just nodded, a little upset that his surprise was spoiled. "I've been dying to see that ever since it opened on Broadway."
"Yeah, Joey said that it was a really good one." James said, turning onto the right road.
"It's just after this park here." I directed. "Joey?"
"Yeah, Joey. He won the Tony for his role in it. I think he played Frollo."
"Joey from *NSync?" James nodded, turning into the parking lot. "That's great. I forgot he was in this. How'd you know I liked musicals.
James laughed. "I only had to look in your computer. The screen saver is all pictures of musicals, all your downloaded songs are from musicals. It's like your obsessed or something."
It was my turn to grin. "Yeah, I guess I am a little obsessed. But I didn't know you liked them."
"They're bearable," he said. "As long as it isn't `Rent.' Joey was rehearsing that one nonstop at the end of our last tour. If I have to hear "Dying in America at the end of the millennium" one more time, I'll scream."
I smiled as I got out of the car. "Well, you're missing a good one, James. `Rent' is my all-time favorite." James rolled his eyes.
"Thank you for the wonderful evening, James." We were back at my hotel room, a little exhausted from the outing. No matter how much I loved it, musicals could take the energy out of you, especially if you're not used to sitting for three hours straight. I didn't mind it, but James looked as if he would drop dead right there. But he was being a perfect gentleman, walking me to my door. I leaned in to kiss him good night, thinking to myself that I wanted to do more than kiss. James pulled me in closer to him, as our kiss became something a little more savage. I pressed against his body and felt something becoming stiff. Perhaps James wasn't the perfect gentleman, I thought.
Eventually we pulled ourselves apart, the hunger still in our eyes. "Wanna come in?" I asked, halfway seductively, halfway nervous.
He looked at me, lust filling his eyes. "Are you sure about that, Alex? There's probably a hundred reasons why I shouldn't."
As a force of habit, my wandering brain picked up the line and replayed it over in my head, this time the scene being played by Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant. In spite of myself and the moment, I couldn't resist. "There are a hundred reasons why you shouldn't come in." I said, not wanting to laugh. His face began to fall as I spoke again. "Wanna come in?"
He didn't need to be asked twice.
To Be Continued . . .