Jc and the Actor

JC and the Actor, Chapter 34, Copyright 2004 ----------

The following story is entirely a work of fiction. It is not meant to imply anything about the sexuality or the personal lives of the members of NSYNC, or any other celebrities mentioned. If you are underage, or if it is illegal to read sexually explicit gay material where you live, don't read this.

Welcome to another exciting (I hope) chapter of "JC and the Actor." Thanks for dropping by. Please continue to send your thoughts, comments and criticisms to mzbryan2003@yahoo.com. I love hearing from all of you.

Chapter 34

I didn't know what to say. I really didn't want to lie to him anymore, but what choice was there? "Oh, that was Lance," I could say. "He and I are trying to track down a sex tape that I made of him. Do you want to come?"

"Nate, who was that?" JC repeated.

"A friend," I said. It wasn't a lie so far. "Um, I need to go help him with something." Still not a lie. I climbed out of the bed.

"You have to go now?" JC said, sitting up. "Nate, is something wrong?"

"Yes," I said, not sure how far I could go with this. He looked concerned and a bit confused. "But, I, I just can't tell you what it's about," I said, realizing that it pretty much was the truth. This wasn't just about me, it was about Lance, and I doubted he would want JC to know anything about this.

"You can't tell me?" he asked.

"Josh, if it was just about me, believe me I would tell you." I could see the hurt in his eyes. "But it's really my friend's problem. I can't tell you because of him."

"Nate, this doesn't make any sense. You don't even know that many people in LA. You're worrying me."

"Josh, I'm fine, really." I pulled on a pair of sneakers and a sweatshirt. "Just trust me, please. I know that it's probably hard for you to do that after everything I've done, but please, trust me."

"Nate, it's not hard," he said, getting out of bed. He looked like such a little boy with his skinny legs hanging off the edge. "But you're not in some kind of danger, are you?" He shook his head and stood up. "I can't believe I'm saying stuff like this," he said, mostly to himself. I couldn't imagine all the strange scenarios he must be envisioning. I myself hated it when people spoke cryptically, but it was my only way of doing what I needed to do and still be able to look JC in the eye.

"No, Josh. No danger. It's going to sound much more mysterious to you, but it's really no big deal when it comes right down to it." I smiled at him reassuringly.

"Nate," he said seriously. "I am trusting you."

"You can, Josh," I said just as seriously. I told him that I would be back soon, kissed him goodbye and hurried down the stairs. I wondered if JC was thinking that I was having an affair, but how could he think I would be able to run over to some other guy after having the most unbelievable sex with the man I love? Still, I knew that I had planted those seeds of doubt some time ago, and I would forever have to reap whatever they sow.

I sped toward the West Side, cursing myself for getting into this predicament in the first place. It seemed that as soon as one problem ended, another problem would explode right in front of me. I called Lance back and he gave me specific directions of where to meet him. Pulling up behind his BMW, I hopped out of my car and into his.

"So what's going on?" I asked, noting the intense look of concentration on his face.

"You see that row of apartments over there?" he asked, pointing me in the right direction.

"Yeah, what about them?"

"The burglar lives in the third one from the right." He turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows.

"What? How can you know?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I drove back to your friend's apartment. I was there for a really long time, when all of the sudden this unsavory looking fellow pulled up in a beat up car and went into her building. He had really bad hair."

"Lance, you're drifting already."

"Right, anyway, I, well, I followed him in and well, he went back into her apartment."

"Oh my God," I cried. "Did you call the police?"

"No, please, what would they care? Anyway, so when I saw that he was leaving again I ran back out to my car and I started following him. That's how I ended up here." He looked at me as though I was supposed to congratulate him or something like that.

"Lance, you're an idiot!" I yelled. "You could have gotten yourself killed." I was wondering why a burglar would need to revisit a crime scene.

"I'm thinking he wanted to make sure he had gone through everything."

"Lance, I'm an actor, not a detective. I'm calling the police." I took out my cell phone but Lance grabbed it away from me. "Lance give it back to me," I demanded. He lowered his window and tossed it outside. I glared at him, thinking that I might strangle him.

"We can't involve the police, Nathan. If they come they'll take all the stolen property and God knows if I'll ever get the tape back. Sure, maybe I would get it back after they've watched it a few hundred times in their recreation room." His point was valid, but I couldn't help but think that we were potentially in great danger. We knew this wasn't a simple burglary, so that meant we didn't know what we were getting ourselves involved in.

"So what are you proposing that we do?" I asked him, wondering if I was in some way obligated to follow his lead since I technically caused the problem in the first place.

"We wait until he leaves, and then we break into his apartment."

"Have you lost your mind?" I asked him. "Lance Bass and Nathan Murray are going to break into some guy's house in Venice Beach? Why don't we just call the Enquirer and let them

"Listen, Nate. This is all your fucking fault, so either you are going to help me or I am going to tell Josh everything."

"Easy, Lance," I cautioned him. "I still have a few copies of the tape myself." I wasn't going to play games with him anymore.

"Whoa, whoa!" he yelled, ignoring me and looking out the window. "It's him! He's leaving!" I watched a tall man climb into an old black car and drive away. "Come on," Lance yelled, getting out of the car. I didn't move, but Lance opened up my door from the outside and practically pulled me out of the car. "Let's go, it will be daylight soon."

He pulled me in the direction of the apartment building and before I knew it I was running behind him, telling myself that maybe this problem could end shortly. The building was a row of about five single story apartments. The doors led right out to the street, and Lance ran up to the man's jiggling the handle. "It's locked," he said.

"Imagine that," I said.

"I'm going around back," he said, already headed in that direction. I followed him through a flimsy metal gate and into an alley between the building and a wooden fence. The window was above eye level, but Lance reached for the sill with his fingertips and pulled himself up. "It's one those sliding ones," he said. "I think it might be unlocked." I was busy looking all around, trying to determine if anyone was watching us. Lance was clearly on a mission, and under different circumstances I would have found it quite funny to see how frantic he had become. "Uh, Nate," he called. "Are you going to help me?"

"What do you need me to do?" I asked, walking closer to him, realizing he was struggling to reach the window. Realizing that the people in the area were probably used to hearing far stranger sounds at this time of night, I grabbed his ass, freeing him to work at the window with his hands.

"Enjoying yourself?" he chuckled.

"Somebody's been doing butt-robics," I laughed, noting that JC would never have the bubble-butt that Lance did.

"Got it!" he yelled, and before I knew it he was sliding into the apartment. I would have thought that a thief would be more protective of his own belongings, but I guess he figured that the chances of somebody robbing a robber were pretty low. I hoisted myself up and dropped into the apartment, wondering if I should commemorate my first breaking-and-entering in my journal later on. Lance was rummaging through the apartment, tossing things around quickly.

"Calm down," I told him, putting the things he was moving back in their place. "We don't want him to know we were here."

"We have to find it, Nate. We have to." The apartment wouldn't have been a good setting for a movie. It wasn't creepy and it didn't reek of crime and danger. Yes, it was poorly decorated, but that was its only distinguishing characteristic. I walked over to the small television console, opening the doors underneath the TV.

"You're not going to believe this," I gasped, staring into the cabinet. Lance hurried over and I could practically hear his eyes widening as he took in sight what may have been a hundred or more black videocassettes. The tape could have been any one of them.

"We'll take them all," Lance said, dropping down to his knees.

"Lance, we can't," I snapped, pulling him away. "We're trying not to alert him that we were here. Remember, we don't know what he wanted with Elaine."

"Please," Lance said, pulling me off of him. "He's probably some ex-boyfriend of hers who wanted his stuff back. He reached for the tapes again, and again I pulled him away.

"Lance, we have to think about this logically. You think he would find the tape, see what was on it, and then just add it to his collection?"

"You're right," he said, standing back up. "Nate?" he said, his voice suddenly shaky.

"What is it?" I asked.

"He's back." I jumped up and looked through the living room window to see the man stepping out of his car. Lance and I looked at each other, and for a moment you could have heard a pin drop before we both started rushing for the back window. Lance practically dove out of it, making me wonder why he had become so agile. Maybe this wasn't his first time getting out of a sticky situation. It was a bit more difficult for me to get my rather tall body out of the window, but I somehow forced myself and we hugged the wall, moving quietly but quickly away from the apartment. As we came around the front corner, we peered around it in order to see if he was now inside.

"This is ridiculous," I breathed at Lance. "How long are we going to keep doing this?" I was getting more nervous, now that it seemed over, if only for now. "I mean, I'm just a cute gay guy, I'm not supposed to be doing things like this."

"And I am?" Lance almost laughed back. "At least some people in this world don't know what you look like."

"Yet," I corrected.

"Hey, I just had a thought. Do you know what we have here?"

"What?"

"Sex, lies and videotape." He looked like he was truly astonished.

"Great, Lance." I took another look around the corner. "Ok, I think he is in, let's run for it." We both hurried off to our cars and sped off as quickly as possible. A few minutes later, I saw Lance pull into a gas station and I pulled up alongside him, lowering the passenger side window.

"It was a good try," Lance said.

"You don't think we should call the police?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"We'll have to think of something else," he said. "But I know it's in there. I'll call you later." He smiled at me and sped away.

"I'll look forward to it," I said to myself, speeding back toward Hollywood Hills.

The sun was rising as I approached JC's house. I wasn't sure if I was exhausted or wide-awake. What had I just done? Surely I hadn't just broken into someone's house and looked through his things. That certainly wasn't something I would ever do. I couldn't remember who had said it, but someone once told me that people were basically capable of anything under the right circumstances. I didn't know if I now believed that, but life had proven to me as of late that I was capable of doing a lot of things I didn't expect to be able to.

JC was in the kitchen unbuttoning his shirt, and tossing it into the trash. "Uh, what's going on?" I said, wondering why he was disrobing in the kitchen.

"I spilled juice on it," he said, turning to face me. He still had on a white tank-top, and his skinny but muscular arms and shoulders looked quite enticing in the early morning light.

"You're up kind of early," I said, sitting down at the kitchen table and laying my head down on it.

"Yeah, well, I couldn't exactly roll over and go sleep after the way you left," he said, leaning back against the counter.

"Sorry about that," I said.

"Is your friend ok now?" he asked. My eyes were closing but I could see that he had crossed his arms below his chest.

"Not exactly," I sighed. "But soon, I think..." I may have finished the sentence, but sleep had enveloped me.

I woke up to find that a pillow had been placed under my head. I smiled to myself and sat up, looking around the kitchen, seeing if JC was nearby. Only an hour had passed, but there was a note on the table in JC's handwriting, telling me that he had to go and meet one of his producers. I stood up and slowly made my way upstairs, in need of a shower and needing to get to the set.

The shower felt so warm and the pressure was so firm that I started to realize how tense my muscles were. It had been a pretty tense few days, and the pressure had only been lifted ever-so-slightly by JC's negative paternity test. I rubbed my aching shoulders, knowing that I should be hurrying, but not wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of the shower. I noticed a small bruise on my right side, just above my hipbone. I must have banged it scrambling out of the window. I had a flashback to the last time I had injured myself. It was in Africa, making my first film.

Filmmaking certainly didn't turn out to be what I thought it was. I found it extremely difficult to work on both of my films, given my rather chaotic personal life throughout the past year. When my last play opened, and the offers started to pour in, all I could think about was how much I wanted to be a star. To be known internationally for my work. Now, it was all about to happen. Despite what might happen with Lance, despite whatever may happen with JC, I was going to be a star, and I was somewhat dismayed to realize that the idea no longer thrilled me.

Since JC and I got back together, I had become consumed with him, going against my normal behavior, but truly being happy doing so. I didn't stay in touch with my friends like I used to. I didn't make one friend on the set of this last film project. As an actor, I was disappointed in myself, knowing that my performance would have been improved had I better connected with my cast. As a person however, I could really have cared less. I didn't want to meet knew people. I didn't want to take on new sets of other people's problems. For the most part, I just wanted to be left alone. Alone with JC.

I suppose that I was starting to realize that I was going to be going in the direction of actors like Johnny Depp instead of actors like Ben Affleck. The way things were going, it wasn't going to take much more to turn me into a total recluse. I turned off the shower, wondering if I was simply going through a phase. Perhaps the anticipation of having to promote "The Edge" was making me nervous. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked over to the sink to brush my teeth and shave. I wiped the fog off of the mirror with my hand and stared at my reflection. I was almost twenty-seven and still there were no lines, no wrinkles, no suggestion of what my life had been about. I knew that people would always look at me and think that I had never had a problem in my life.

Just when I had finished shaving, I turned off the faucet to hear some movement in the bedroom. My initial reaction was to be a little frightened until I remembered that I wasn't in some stranger's house. I stepped out of the bathroom to find JC standing at the foot of the bed, struggling to get out of the new shirt he had put on. He must have tried to take it off without unbuttoning it, because it seemed to be stuck on his head, trapping his forearms.

"Um, Josh?" I laughed, stepping closer to him. "You really seem to be having a problem keeping your shirt on, today."

"Could you help me?" he asked, his voice muffled and defeated. I brought my hands up to assist him, telling him that I thought he had gone to meet someone.

"I changed my mind," he said. "I'm not really in a musical mood at the moment." I pulled his shirt up some more, but then got another idea. I reached down and grabbed the bottom of his tank-top, pulling it up as well, further entangling him.

"Nate, what are you doing?"

"Taking advantage of you," I said, leaning down and kissing his chest. There was really no time for this, but who could resist such a situation? "Maybe you are in the mood for this," I said, bringing my lips to his right nipple. His body froze for a moment, and I could hear him take a deep breath through his shirt.

"Don't you need to get to the set?" he sighed.

"It's the last day of filming, Josh. What are they going to do, fire me?" I brought my hand to the waistband of his jeans and was somewhat surprised to notice that he was already hard as a rock. "Josh," I almost laughed, feeling my own cock begin to respond to this realization. "Does this turn you on?"

If I could have seen his face, I'm sure it was turning bright red. He lifted his hips again, grazing my hand with the top of his cock. I moved my hand to his ass and lowered him slowly down onto the bed. I pulled open my towel, freeing my own growing cock, and removed JC's shoes and pants. He was rock hard, his cock stretching up to his naval. I climbed over him, telling him to close his eyes. I pulled his shirt and t-shirt off of him, freeing his arms and taking in his beautiful face. He sighed, feeling my balls slide up his chest as I reached for a pillow. I pulled off the pillowcase and folded it into a thin strip. "Do you trust me, Josh?" I asked, my voice low.

"Yes," he said. I covered his eyes with the white fabric and tied it lightly in back of his head. I looked down to see a drop of precum emerge from his mushroom head. Not being able to see was apparently driving him crazy. Feeling extremely naughty, I began to kiss his lips, feeling his tongue wrap around mine. His hands grasped my smooth shoulders, and pulled me closer to him. Eventually I pulled away from him, placing his arms by his sides.

I began to place kisses all over his body, and I could tell that he loved not knowing where or when they would come. I kissed his neck, then his nipples. Then his stomach, then the tops of his legs. I was moving all over, kissing his feet, then quickly moving to kiss his biceps and shoulders. His cock stayed rock hard the entire time, and he continually gasped and moaned, occasionally reaching out to see if he could tell what part of me he was feeling.

I tucked my knees under his arms and lowered my body ever so slightly, until my balls lightly touched his lips. His mouth immediately opened, and he sucked in one of them, groaning, rolling his tongue in every possible direction. I shifted and brought him the other one, bringing forth a sigh of my own. I withdrew once again, leaning over him, letting my cock brush up against his face. He turned his head violently, trying to find the head, trying to bring it into his mouth. I gave him what he wanted and he sucked hungrily at my cock, his tongue working its familiar magic. "Mmm, mmm," he moaned.

Once I started realizing that I could cum at any second, I pulled my cock out of his mouth, and moved down the bed until I was greeted by his own hard member. I kissed his cock all over, nuzzling my face in between his legs before finally starting to go down on him. "Oh yeah," he sighed, thrusting his hips forward. With each stroke I tried to move lower, eventually deep-throating him a few times. "If you keep that up I'm going to cum," he sighed, his hand finding the back of my head. Realizing that I was really running late, and that I wanted his cum, I continued sucking, taking him down to the base, feeling his fuzz brush against my lips. "Ungh, ungh!" he cried, releasing his load in my mouth. He tasted incredibly sweet and he came a lot, forcing me to work hard to swallow it all. He was panting and whimpering. After taking all he had to offer, I crawled back up him, crushing my lips against his, letting him get a small taste of himself. He kissed me hungrily, and he reached down to grab my cock, sticking it in between his chest and hand. I began to hump myself against his stomach, quickly crying out and cumming all over him, my cum sealing us together. I lowered myself onto him completely, resting my head in the crook of his neck

"Now I have to wash up, again," I laughed, reaching behind JC's head and pulling the blindfold off of him.

"Maybe I could help you do it faster," JC smiled, opening his eyes. "That was really hot, Nate." I climbed off of him and we hurried into the bathroom for another quick shower. "Nate," JC said suddenly. "What happened to your hip?" I immediately realized the benefit to having him blindfolded earlier. I tried to make light of it and told him that I must have slammed up against something.

"You're involved in something dangerous, aren't you?" he asked, his face blank.

"Josh, I..."

"Nate, I can help you. I can get people to help you."

"Josh, thank you, but it's not like that. Honestly. It's really something I have to do on my own."

"Nate, you're being to cryptic. This doesn't sound realistic."

"Josh, do you think I am sneaking off to have rough sex with somebody?" I was honestly interested to know if that was what he thought.

He was quiet for a moment, the sound of the shower intensifying. "No," he said. "But I'm not really comfortable with us keeping secrets from each other." I wondered if I should just tell him everything. Maybe he would understand. He had forgiven me for having an affair, why would he care that I watched Lance have sex only one week into our relationship? I almost opened my mouth to confess, but the idea of losing JC was just too much to bear. I didn't want to hurt him, and in reality this current problem had more to do with Lance than me.

"I don't know what else I can say, Josh," I said, turning off the water. A friend of mine is in a lot of trouble, and he begged me not to tell anyone. Wouldn't you do the same for your friends?"

"I guess so," he said. "I guess I'm just worried about you. You're getting calls in the middle of the night, and you're coming home with bruises." He was quiet again for a moment. "But I trust you are doing the right thing," he said. I grabbed his shoulder and rubbed it, thanking him. I told him that I had to get going, and before I knew it I was back on the set, having my makeup applied for today's final scene. It was simply going to be a scene of me and my co-star walking down a street, yet it was amazing how many hours it was going to take.

The director announced that the film had wrapped around three in the afternoon, and everyone broke out in applause. While the other actors spent the next hour or so thanking the crew for all of their hard work, I immediately ran back to my trailer, eager to get my makeup off and get back to my real life. Wondering if I was the first person in history to make filmmaking a secondary part of my life, I hurried back into my clothes and darted out for my car. There were no messages on my cell phone from Lance, making me wonder if he had given up. I didn't know what to do next, but I soon found myself driving around Venice, circling the man's apartment, afraid to go near it.

As I drove, I started to think. I had to end all of this as quickly as possible. I couldn't keep risking my relationship. I had to once and for all put this behind me and get on with my life as an actor and as the boyfriend of an international pop star. I began to think that Lance was too much of a live wire to deal with this situation appropriately. Maybe if I was alone, I could calmly find the tape, and that would be that. I still couldn't believe that these were the thoughts running through my head, but well, they were.

I drove back to the man's apartment, parking a good distance away. His car was gone, which gave me hope that he would be gone too. I was just opening my door when my cell phone rang, making me jump and hit my head on the low ceiling of the car. "Hello?" I said into the phone, rubbing my head.

"Hey, Nate," JC said cheerfully. "You all done?"

"Yep," I said, my eyes fixed on the apartment down the street.

"So, do you want to meet Britney tonight?" he asked.

"Tonight?" I asked back. I realized that while JC said he trusted me, he was going to try his best not to leave me any free time to do anything he suspected of being dangerous.

"Yeah," he said. "She's finally back from London. I thought we could go to White Lotus. I really want her to meet you."

"Josh, you know she's going to love me," I laughed. "I mean, everybody does."

"Ha," he said. "So can we go?" I didn't know how to say no. I didn't really have any excuse. I just assumed that something crazy would happen before then.

"Ok, Josh, um, when?"

"I don't know. Around ten, I guess. But you'll be home before then, right?" he asked. He wasn't making this easy. Not at all.

"Yes," I said. "I'll see you soon." I closed the phone, wondering what on Earth I would talk to Britney Spears about. People probably wondered the same about JC and I.

Looking around to see if I could spot any paparazzi, I moved toward the apartment, feeling like some unknown force was propelling me. I decided to do something quite unusual. I rang the doorbell. Waiting for the man to answer, or perhaps for my life to come to a quick end, I stood quietly until I understood that no one was coming to the door. I then hurried to the back of the apartment, hoping I would find the window as it was yesterday.

Being much taller than Lance, I was able to reach the window without having to hang over it. I could feel it move slightly, and then I slid it completely open, taking one last look around before climbing inside. "What the fuck are you doing?" I asked myself, refamiliarizing myself with my surroundings. Nothing looked very different, but for a change I headed into the bedroom, thinking that he would probably want to hide the stolen things as much away as possible. Feeling very creepy, wondering what kind of jail sentence I could get if I was caught, I started rummaging through his bedroom closet, looking for Elaine's papers, looking for some sign of the tape. Why wasn't it here?

There was little evidence to suggest the identity of the man who lived here. There was not really anything of any substance. Was he just a random thief, or was he interested specifically in Elaine? I started to walk out of the bedroom when something caught my eye near the small desk by the bed. In the wastebasket was a torn open, padded envelope. I picked it up and immediately recognized it as the envelope I had sent the tape in. "Oh my God," I thought. He had opened it and watched it. I ran out into the living room, and switched on the television. The VCR was already on, so I pressed play and was soon watching Lance get it on with his trick of the night. My eyes nearly popped out of my head, and I quickly turned it off and ejected the tape, grabbing it and making my way back toward the window. I was contemplating how to get out of the window without hurting myself when I started to think about all of those other tapes that the man had in the entertainment center. There was something strange about that, and when I considered that I had been thinking that the man was connected to Elaine, I decided that I should check it out.

I walked back over to the TV and put one of the tapes into the VCR. The screen was black for a while, but then I could see a building. The video had a hand-held quality to it, and I could see a woman emerge from the building, carrying something. As the camera zoomed closer, I could see that it was Elaine's building, and that the woman was Elaine, and that she was carrying Madeline. My heart started to pound as I began to realize that this man had been following Elaine for quite some time. I took out the tape and then put in another, and another after that. All of them were of Elaine in different parts of the city with Madeline. At the grocery store, getting gas, coming out of the doctor's office. Elaine had a stalker, and I had to tell her.

I had just switched off the TV when I heard the sound of keys jingling. Sweat burst across my forehead as I realized that the man was at the front door. Shit. I had been examining the tapes so intensely that I had forgotten to keep an eye out for him. What now? I frantically looked about the room, wondering what I should do. The back window was too far away to reach before he entered. There was a small closet perpendicular to the front door, and I decided that it was my only chance of refuge. Hearing the key go into the lock, I grabbed Lance's tape and flew into the closet, gently closing myself inside. Maybe he would head straight into the bedroom and I could just slip right out. Maybe I would run straight to a mental institution to have my head examined for continually doing such stupid things.

I could hear someone enter the apartment. Keys were tossed onto a table and I could hear some type of bag being placed down. I was using all of my willpower to slow down my breathing, but was finding it to be quite a challenge. How was I going to explain all of this to JC?

"Hey, Jimmy, what's the news?" I heard a voice say. "No, I haven't got it yet," he said. "I will!" he yelled. "I can't find her!" My eyes widened, and I worried that Elaine and Madeline were in terrible danger. I heard the phone slam closed. There was some pacing, which came to an abrupt stop when the man must have noticed the disarray around his television. There was silence, allowing me to actually hear my heart thumping in my chest. I couldn't believe I was actually wishing that Lance were here. Anybody would have been nice. Anybody that could have gotten me out of this.

There was a strange noise, and then the next thing I knew the closet door flew open, and I was roughly pulled out of it. The man slammed me up against the wall and I could feel something cold and hard pressing against my neck. I struggled a bit, but then realized that there was a knife at my throat, and decided that thrashing about probably wasn't a good idea.

"Why are you following me?" the man snarled. "You tell your boss I need more time!"

"I'm not following you," I shot back, panicking, feeling him press the knife harder against me. "I don't work for anybody."

"Bullshit," he snapped. The man was a couple of inches taller than me. He had a few days growth of beard, and his green eyes suggested that this wasn't always what his life was like. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now?"

"I, I..." I really didn't know what to say. I was just stealing something back that you stole from my friend? That wouldn't go well. Should I tell him that I know Elaine? His eyes shifted downward and he noticed the tape in my hand. He pulled it away from me.

"What have we hear?" he asked. "Are you stealing from me?"

"It's mine," I said. "You stole it from my friend." His eyes readjusted themselves, but he continued to stare at me intently, breathing almost as hard as I was.

"You mean, you..." his voice was interrupted by the front door, which came crashing open, slamming into the back of my captor. It knocked him off balance and he fell to the ground. I looked over to see Lance standing in the doorway, looking as though he couldn't believe what he had just done.

"Nate, let's go," he yelled. I reached down and grabbed the tape that had fallen onto the ground. The man reached for my ankles, but I sidestepped him and was out of the apartment in a flash. The two of us ran down the street toward Lance's car. I jumped in the passenger seat, and we were off.

"What the fuck was all that?" Lance asked, speeding down the freeway.

"Lance, how did you know I was there?" I asked.

"I was going to go by myself, but I saw your car on the other block and figured you were inside. I hurried over when I saw him coming home."

"I think you saved my life," I gasped, rubbing my neck. There was a bit of blood on my hand and I realized that the knife must have cut me a little.

"Exciting stuff, huh?" Lance said, raising his eyebrows.

"Lance, we have to get to the Beverly Hills Hotel. Elaine is in danger."

"She is?" he asked.

"I heard him talking. He is trying to find her."

"Oh, man," Lance said. "This is big. This goes all the way to the White House."

"At least I got the tape," I said, ignoring him, resting my head back against the headrest. As expected, with every problem solved, another one appeared.

I had been half-expecting Lance to leave me to deal with the next part of this saga since he now had his tape back, but surprisingly he was running right beside me as I went to Elaine's hotel room. I banged on the door, and she quickly opened it, immediately seeing the concern in my face.

"The guy who robbed you is stalking you," I said. Her large eyes grew even wider. "He's been videotaping you all over town, and I heard him tell someone on the phone that he was looking for you."

"Oh my God," she said. She looked up and for the first time noticed that Lance Bass was standing next to me.

"Oh, hi," he said, extending his hand to her. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She looked back at me and I just rolled my eyes.

"I think we should move you and Madeline someplace else," I said. I was working on pure adrenaline, and took a moment to consider that this might be the most cinematic experience of my life. "And maybe we should go the police."

"I think you're right," she said, looking toward Madeline who was lying on the large bed. "And I do think it's time we go to the police." She noticed the scratch on my neck. "Oh God, Nate. What happened? He hurt you?" I told her that it was fine.

"I can't believe you did this all for me," she said. "And after everything between me and..." I looked up at her, signaling for her to stop talking in front of Lance.

"He did it for me, too," Lance said, winking at me. I smiled at him and turned back to Elaine.

"Oh," she said, probably realizing that the package had something to do with Lance. We started to throw Elaine's things into a suitcase. In her haste, she tossed a bag onto the bed and it spilled open, a number of papers falling out. Lance was sitting on the small couch, bouncing Madeline on his knee while I went over to help Elaine put the stuff back in order. "I got it," she said. "It's just some papers." I moved one aside and noticed that a few photographs were clumped together. I looked a bit closer, picking one of them up to examine it better.

"Uh," I stammered.

"What is it?" Elaine asked. Lance looked over as well.

"Who is this?" I said, turning the picture toward her.

"That's Kevin," she said, her voice immediately sounding aggravated. "Madeline's father."

I cocked an eyebrow and bit my lower lip. "Elaine," I began. "This is the guy who just tried to kill me."

To be continued