Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:
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If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.
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I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.
Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I've enjoyed hearing from all of you.
That said, on with the show, and back to the story in progress.
His hands on my shoulders, Justin gently, but firmly, pushed me away as I realized that I had kissed him, but he hadn't kissed me back. I looked up into his face and saw him staring down at me in stern puzzlement.
"We've already played this game, Jack," Justin said, shaking his head. His voice was level, not angry. "Several times, actually. We're not playing it again."
"Oh, suddenly you don't want me?" I asked. Maybe I could goad him into responding. "You've already had my dick in your mouth, Justin."
He sighed, and shook his head again.
"So if I'm not going to do it when you start kissing me, what makes you think pissing me off is going to work any better?" he asked. "Jack, look who you're talking to. I know all the tricks, remember? I know what you're doing, even if I don't know why, and I'm not going to let you use me as your excuse to break up with Josh."
I looked away. I should have known Justin would see right through me, especially Justin. Like he said, he knew all the tricks, and he was a lot better at using them.
"I'm sorry, Justin," I said, shaking my head. "That was really wrong. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, it was," Justin agreed. "It was wrong when I did it, and it's still wrong. Now, do you mind telling me what the hell is going on?"
"Justin, I don't really want to talk about it," I said, looking away.
"Hey Jack, you just had your tongue in my mouth," Justin said, staring at me. "I think you owe me at least an explanation. Are you just trying to punish Josh for something, or break it off completely?"
"Justin, I can't stay with Josh," I said quietly, looking at the floor. "I can't stay with him, and I don't know how to tell him."
"Well, Jack," Justin began, crossing his arms, "putting a move on his former best friend probably isn't the best way. You guys love each other too much for this kind of shit, Jack, and you know it. Why the hell can't you stay with Josh? You guys just got all this worked out, remember? You're moving in together and all that?"
"I'm sorry, Justin," I said again, unsure of what else I could or should say. "I can't really explain it, but there's some, stuff, going on right now. You're right, though. I shouldn't have tried to throw you in between us."
"Hey, you're upset, you're confused, shit happens," Justin said, holding up his hands. "My break is about over, so I'm heading back. Are you telling Josh about this, or am I?"
"I guess I will, to keep you from getting socked," I said, imagining what a nice crunch it would make if Josh broke his nose. Of all times for Justin to decide that he wanted to have morals again after all.
"Jack, I don't know why you're not talking to Josh about this, or anyone else, but if you need to, well, I'm here," Justin said, shaking his head as he walked away.
As I watched Justin's back I stopped to think for the first time in about ten minutes, and realized what I'd just done. It had been impulsive, but I had tried to use Justin. I had tried to do the same thing we came down on him for. If he'd done it to Lance, we would have been all over him, but I had done it without even thinking. Peyton was right. I was a bad person. If Justin had gone for me, they would have kicked him out of the group, no questions asked. It would be the last straw for him, and I'd be destroying Josh just as completely as I would by staying.
I realized suddenly what I needed to do. I didn't need to have an excuse, I just needed to pack up and go. I needed to just walk away from Josh, and let the other guys pick him up and put him back together. I should call Hank and get a ride to the apartment right now, and pack everything up and just leave. But where would I go? I was homeless and unemployed. I couldn't just walk back into my old life, not after I'd taken such pains to cut myself out of it, but I couldn't stay here, either. Trapped by indecision, I walked back to the bubble to wait out the rest of the day, feeling myself at war within. I loved Josh, more than anything, and I didn't want to even think about walking away from him, but my love was killing him. The longer I stayed with him, the worse things would get. I could see it, even if he didn't.
Finally they took another break in the middle of the afternoon. I saw all five of them staring at each other, talking as they looked through the glass at me, and I wondered what they were saying. I didn't have long to wait as they filed somberly out of the sound room, carrying their stuff as if they were breaking for the day. I looked at my watch and saw that it was a little early for that, but then Josh appeared in the doorway.
"Jack?" he asked, walking across the room. He sat down beside me on the couch and took my hand. "Jack, that call came in. Peyton's dead."
"Oh," I said quietly. I couldn't think of anything else to say, but felt as if I should say something.
"We had someone call his family," Josh said quietly, staring at me. His eyes were huge and glassy, but I couldn't read his face. "They're going to ship the body home."
"That's nice," I said, feeling completely empty inside. After all of this, after everything that had gone on, I couldn't summon up a shred of grief, or even a tear, for Peyton, especially when I knew that it was my fault he had died so very alone.
"Jack, I'm going to take you home now, ok?" Josh asked, his voice quivering.
"Sure," I said, allowing him to lead me by the hand out to the parking lot. The other guys watched us quietly as we crossed the lobby, but none of them said anything. When we got back to the apartment, I began to drift toward the bedroom as Josh asked if I wanted dinner. "No, thanks. I just want to lay down for a while."
"Jack, are you ok?" Josh asked, his face twisted as he wrung his hands. "I mean, really?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied. I had to end this. I had to find the way.
"I'll be right here if you need anything, ok?" he asked, looking away.
"Sure," I answered, continuing into the bedroom.
"I love you," Josh said quietly.
My heart was breaking, but I didn't answer him.
I don't know what Josh did all night. I tried to think, but eventually I just fell asleep, and woke up when he slid quietly into the bed. He didn't say anything, didn't reach out to me, and that hurt, even if it was my fault. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and I think it was a long time before he fell asleep. I know it was for me. In the morning he was up before me again, and I heard him answer the door, speaking to Chris again.
"I don't think he's running today, either, Chris," Josh said quietly. His voice was flat.
"Should I ask him?" Chris asked.
"It can't hurt," Josh said, sighing. I heard Chris walk into the bedroom, and when I opened my eyes he was kneeling by the side of the bed.
"Jack? Are you getting up today?" Chris asked.
"Not right now," I answered.
"Jack, can we do anything for you?" Chris asked, looking frustrated. "Can we get you anything, or take you anywhere?"
"No, thank you," I whispered, closing my eyes. Maybe when I opened them again he'd be gone.
I heard him walk out of the room, and then I heard Josh agreeing to go outside with him. The front door closed and, curious, I got out of bed and went to peek out of the window over the stereo. All five guys were down in the courtyard, Josh sitting on one of the lounge chairs talking while the other four milled around him. I wished that the window was open, but was afraid that it would squeak if I tried to raise it, and I cursed the fact that I had never learned how to read lips. As Josh continued speaking, the other four shifted around him, drawing in closer, and then I saw that Josh was crying. Joey pulled him up by the arms, and all four of them wrapped him in a group hug, even Justin.
Realizing that the damage I had done to the band, just by being here and making Josh like he was, was repaired, I got back in bed to try to figure out how I could deal with the rest of this. I had ruined Peyton's life, and if I stayed, I would ruin Josh's. I knew this, because I was slowly ruining it now. Why, then, was it so hard to leave? I fell back to sleep. When I woke up again, Josh was sitting in one of the dining room chairs, staring at me from across the room.
"Hi," he said when he saw my eyes open.
"Hi," I answered, wondering how long he'd been watching me. I also wondered why he was here, and he watched me glance at the clock.
"We didn't go in today," Josh said, sighing. "Jack, we've been working so hard for the past couple weeks to talk to each other, and tell each other everything. Why won't you talk to me now?"
"I can't," I answered, swallowing. It was true. Josh couldn't see that I was bad for him, and if I tried to talk to him about it, he'd continue insisting that this was all his own idea, when really I knew it was mine.
"Jack, I don't know what's going on inside you right now," Josh said, looking down at his hands. He began to twist my ring. "I don't know how to help you, because you won't tell me, and I don't know what you're thinking. If you feel bad about Peyton, I want you to know that I'm ok with that. I understand. You loved him once, even if it turned bad later, and you don't have to feel guilty about mourning him, because it won't upset me. Is that what's wrong?"
"Josh, I don't want to talk about this right now," I said stubbornly, not moving from the bed.
"Then when?" he asked. "When can I have you back? If it's not Peyton, is it something I did? Whatever it is, please just tell me, please, Jack."
"It wasn't something you did," I said quietly, almost whispering. "It was something I did."
"What? Just tell me what it was, Jack, please!" Josh said, tears standing, glistening and unshed, in his eyes. "Whatever it is, I forgive you, right now! I don't care what it was, Jack. I just can't take this. I can't deal with this, with you just laying here. You said you can't take it when I shut you out? Well how do you think I feel right now? Please, Jack, please just talk to me."
"I can't," I said, rolling over. Behind me I heard Josh begin to cry, finally, not even trying to be quiet about it, and I wanted more than anything to roll over and hold him, to tell him everything would be ok, but I couldn't. It was better this way, even if he didn't understand it. Finally I heard the chair shift as he stood.
"Jack, I don't know what else to do," he said quietly, sniffling. "I don't know what else I can say, and you don't seem to want me here, either. I need to, um, I need to go clear my head for a while, ok? I'll take my phone, in case you change your mind and decide that you want to talk."
I said nothing.
"I love you, Jack. Nothing's going to change that. If you need me, I think you know where I'll be."
Josh walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him, and I lay in bed, staring across at his pillow, wishing I could be as empty inside as the bed was, and not feeling so much pain. After a while, I heard the door open, and then someone sat on the end of the bed without speaking. Rolling over, I saw that it wasn't Josh. It was Lance. He looked down at me and shook his head.
"You know what, Jack? Since what happened to me, I've only been able to look at you one way. Every time I see you, I see the guy who saved me, the guy who pulled me out of the trouble I was in and helped me get on with my own life. I always look at you, and I think about how you look so strong, and so brave. I never thought I'd see you scared."
"I'm not scared," I said, wondering if any of these guys had any idea what a closed door was supposed to mean.
"You're not?" Lance asked. "Because you're doing a really good job of pretending to be, then. You know, since it almost looks like you're scared to get out of bed, scared to talk to Josh, scared to face whatever it is that's eating you up inside. I could be wrong, though. Maybe you're not scared. Maybe you're just too selfish and stupid to see what's going on in front of you."
"Excuse me?" I said, sitting up.
"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" Lane asked. "Because I was hoping to. Sorry to get you all indignant, Jack, but I have to call them like I see them. You're being stupid and selfish, and I don't know why."
"I'm not being selfish," I said.
"Oh, because holding everything inside you is really generous and giving?" Lance asked. "Shutting everyone out and pushing everyone away is actually an unselfish gesture? I'm so glad you enlightened me on that one, Jack. Do you even realize how much you're hurting JC right now?"
"I'm trying to keep from hurting Josh," I said stubbornly, looking away.
"Is today opposite day or something?" Lance asked. "Jack, you couldn't hurt Josh more if you tried to. How can you not see that? You're tearing his heart out right now, and you don't even have the guts to tell him why. You're pushing him away, and trying to find ways to hurt him. Or maybe kissing Justin wasn't stupid, and I'm just confused again."
I stared at him, my jaw dropping open.
"Oh, yeah, Justin told us what happened yesterday," Lance said. "He told us what happened, and what you did, and what you guys said to each other. Nobody's told Josh yet, but that's only because we're waiting to see if you will. Justin told us that you kissed him, and then told him you couldn't stay with Josh, and that you can't tell Josh why. Right there, Jack. Stupid, scared, and selfish."
"It's nice to see the four of you so close again," I said lamely.
"Stupid," Lance said, shaking his head. "Don't try to change the subject. What's going on, Jack?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I insisted.
"Selfish and stupid," Lance said, staring at me. "Jack, just tell me what's going on, please. I'm trying to be your friend."
"Lance, I can't," I said, shaking my head.
"Scared," Lance said coldly.
"Stop that!" I snapped finally. "Stop fucking doing that every time I say something!"
"Stop blocking me!" Lance yelled back. "Stop shutting me out!"
"Lance," I began.
"No, Jack," he said, his green eyes boring into me. "Remember when I told you to go away? Remember when I sat in the bottom of my shower crying, and I told you to leave? I'm asking if you remember because I do. I remember it every day, Jack. Do you remember what you said to me?"
I looked away, but answered him.
"I said that I couldn't leave as long as you were in pain," I answered.
"That's right," Lance said. "What would have happened if you had listened to me? What would have happened, Jack, if you had walked away and just left me there in the shower?"
"It's my fault you were in there," I said, watching Lance's eyes widen.
"What?" he asked. "It was my own fault, Jack, and Justin's, not yours."
I shook my head.
"No, it was mine," I said. "Justin wouldn't have done that to you if I hadn't been here."
"What?" Lance asked, confused. "Jack, what the hell are you talking about? How is that your fault? Is this what you won't tell Jack about?"
"Lance, Peyton has always said that I ruined his life," I said, pulling my knees up to my chest. "I never really believed it, but the other day I realized he was right. He was right all along and I just never wanted to admit it."
"Jack, how did you ruin Peyton's life?" Lance asked.
"I kissed him," I answered, shaking my head. "I got him drunk and I kissed him. I made him the way he was."
"You didn't make him gay, Jack," Lance said, shaking his head. "God did that."
I looked at Lance, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yeah, you heard me," Lance said. "God did that. God made you gay, and me, and Peyton, and Howie, and Josh. Maybe my church says no, but we're all God's creatures, and if I'm like this, then it's because God did this to me, and that means it can't be wrong, Jack. What happened to Peyton would have happened anyway. He was gay, Jack, even if he didn't want to admit it."
"He never would have if I hadn't forced him," I said. When had Lance made peace with his religion? Therapy must be going really well.
"You didn't force him to do anything," Lance said, shaking his head. "I can't believe I'm explaining this to you. All you did was kiss him. Nobody forced him to do anything, or to kiss you back."
"But I told him to tell his family," I said, shaking my head. How could Lance not see that it had all been my fault, that I was poison?
"Did you tell them yourself?" he asked, and I shook my head. "Then that was Peyton's choice. And all the rest of that, all the other stuff, that was all his choice, too."
"But Lance, just being with me forced him to do that," I said, shaking my head. "Being with me forced him to give up everything, and I kept telling him it was ok, because we were in love."
"Is this what he said to you the other day?" Lance asked, and I nodded. "Jack, what else did he say?"
"He said he wouldn't forgive me, not ever," I said, shaking my head. "I didn't ask him to. I didn't even realize that was what I wanted until he said it, but I just wanted him to forgive me, Lance, to stop blaming me for ruining his life."
Lance took my hand.
"Jack, Peyton Rush was a bitter and vindictive person," Lance said. "Look at me, Jack, don't look away. Peyton blamed you because it's always easier to blame someone else than it is to take responsibility for your own actions. All Peyton wanted was to hurt you, Jack, and all he needed was for you to let him."
"What?" I asked stupidly.
"Peyton never forgave you," Lance said. "Big deal. There wasn't ever anything there to forgive. All he wanted was to hurt you, and the only way he could do that was by not giving you what you came for. You went to Peyton for absolution from sins that were never yours. The only reason it worked is because you haven't ever forgiven yourself."
"But what if he was right?" I asked.
"Jack, you know he's not right," Lance said, squeezing my hand. "It's never wrong for you to love someone. You know that."
"That's not all he said, Lance," I said, shaking my head. "He said that I ruined his life, and that I was ruining Josh's, too."
"Well, he's right," Lance said, shrugging.
"What?" I asked, confused.
"What you're doing right now is hurting Josh," Lance said. "Shutting him out, pushing him away like you are, is ruining him right now. He could barely talk to us this morning about how much it hurts him to know that something's wrong with you and he can't help you."
"That's not what Peyton meant," I said sullenly.
"Then what did he mean?" Lance asked. When had he gotten so good at this?
"He meant that I'm taking things away from Josh, making him have to give things up," I said. "Just by being with me, he's losing things, things that are important to him, and maybe someday he's going to want those things back, and he's going to blame me because they're gone."
"Jack, what has Josh lost because of you?" Lance asked.
"Lance, I almost broke up the band," I said. "Josh pulled away from all of you, and then when he got with me you started having all of these problems, and Justin got mad at you because of the way you treated me and Josh, and now everyone's mad at him, and none of it would have happened if I had just left Josh alone."
"Jack, we're all responsible for our own behavior," Lance said, squeezing my hand again. "Josh hasn't lost anything by being with you. We're all still together, and some of us got a little banged up on the trip, but we're all still here."
"But the rest, Lance," I said. "The fans you're losing, the jokes people are making."
"People were already making jokes, Jack," Lance said. "And if we lose some fans over this, over people who have tiny closed minds, maybe we don't want those people as fans anyway. And you don't know anything about the fans we've gained, do you?"
"What?" I asked. Josh hadn't said anything.
"We've been getting a lot of mail from people who have talked about how brave you and Josh are," Lance said. "We've been getting mail from people who say that you guys give them hope, and strength to be who they are. And the rest of us have gotten letters and e- mails from people who tell us how much it means to them to see us all embracing our friends, to see us not turning away. You and Josh have done that, Jack. Maybe we've lost something, but we've also gained. Somewhere it's all going to work out, and it isn't going to cost Josh anything."
"Except himself," I said, shaking my head.
"What do you mean?" Lance asked. "Jack?"
"Josh wouldn't have to go through any of this if not for me," I said. "He wouldn't have spent all of this time questioning himself, or trying to figure out how he felt about Justin. He wouldn't have had all those fights with you. He'd still be Justin's best friend. He's lost so much of himself to be with me."
"I don't think Josh would see it as a loss," Lance said, shaking his head again. He got up and began to pace the room.
"But Lance, it's still all my fault," I said. "I kissed Josh. He said it himself. He never thought about being with another guy until he was with me."
"And you think if you hadn't kissed him, he'd still be straight?" Lance asked. I nodded. "So you'd rather that instead of being the way he is now, happy, at peace with himself, and in love with you, you'd rather that Josh was more like me?"
I stared at him.
"Lance?" I asked quietly.
"You'd rather that Josh spent his whole life confused?" Lance asked. "You'd rather that Josh spent his entire life missing something, even if he didn't know what it was? You'd rather that he grew to hate himself? You'd rather that he spent all his time being ashamed, and afraid to love, so that even if someone did love him, even if one day he did finally open up, he wouldn't be able to admit it? He wouldn't be able to give that love back, because he wouldn't know how?"
"Lance, are you and Howie?" I began, but I wasn't sure what I was even asking.
"Howie loves me, but I can barely love him back, Jack," Lance said, sitting on the bed again. "He reaches out to me, and I can barely let him touch me because of the way I feel, because all I see is what Justin did. Justin wouldn't have been able to do that to me if I hadn't let him, and I wouldn't have let him if I was honest with myself about who I was. Is that how you'd rather see Josh? Closed off? Angry? Hurt? Is it?"
"No," I answered, shaking my head.
"Then maybe you'd better go talk to him," Lance said, standing. "Maybe you'd better go find Josh, and tell him everything you just told me. You know what he's going to say, Jack?"
"No," I answered, even though I thought I did.
"Yeah, you do," Lance argued. "He's going to say he loves you, and that he's never been happier than he is right now, with you. Forgive yourself, Jack. Stop lying to yourself, and let someone else love you, and let yourself love him back. Stop worrying about things you can't control, and start worrying about the things you can."
I sighed, and began to climb out of the bed.
"Thank you, Lance," I said, hugging him. "Thank you for being strong for me."
"You're plenty strong by yourself," Lance said, shrugging. "You just needed reminding."
"Yeah, I've forgotten a lot of things in the past few days," I said, pulling on a pair of pants.
"You going to find Josh?" Lance asked, watching me dress.
"I know where he is," I answered. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to go find Justin," Lance said. "We've got some stuff to work out."
"Good luck, Lance," I said.
"You, too," he said.
I called a cab, and watched Lance walk out the door, heading for Justin's apartment.
More to come soon.