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Disclaimer: *N Sync not mine. Plot's mine though. This does not imply anything about the true sexual preferences of the guys.
Note: This takes place after * the * lawsuit and before the NSA came out. I'm assuming that the guys have their own apartment in Orlando. Justin lives with his mom.*** the voice*** and [character thoughts].
All comments to Snow C at iefour@hotmail.com or visit my site at http://www.geocities.com/rf2107/blue_ocean.html
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The Masks That We Wear
Previously in Chapter 7...
" Now, old man. I'll work on Lance and you just keep quiet and act normal." Justin smirked.
"Arrogant little prick." Chris muttered under his breath.
"Yeah, but you still like me anyway." Justin retorted on his way out. There were the sounds of the front door clicking shut.
"I'll go have my little discussion with Joey now." JC left Chris sulking in the kitchen and made his way to Joey's bedroom.
Chapter 8
"Hey Joey, it's me JC. You want to talk?" JC stood outside Joey's closed room door.
"No. Just leave me alone." A muffled voice came from behind the door.
"Sometimes it's better to talk about things than keep them inside. It's not healthy you know."
"Well, I'm going crazy so I guess I'm already not healthy." Joey retorted.
"Joey, you are not going crazy. Didn't you hear that psychic?" JC was starting to wonder if they were going to have the whole conversation with the stupid door between them.
"Andrea. She said that I have ' Lots of inner turmoil and confusion.' So let me stew in my confusion for a while. Go away."
"Um...Joey? I want to talk about Lance." JC threw out the statement as a last resort.
"What about him?"
"Joey, if you don't open the door, I'm not going to say anything."
"Then don't."
JC felt like banging his forehead against the door in frustration. He hoped that Justin had better luck with Lance.
Lance picked up a grapefruit, examining it for blemishes while Justin pushed the trolley. There was a surprising lack of people considering that it was a Friday afternoon. Lance glanced at the curly hair youth who had worn a cap to cover up his trademark locks. Justin was unusually quiet. Something fishy was up. Lance could smell it from a mile away. He waited patiently, picking out five grapefruits, ten apples and ten oranges.
He was standing beside the pyramid of Campbell's mushroom soup, trying to decide between canned soup or freshly made chicken soup when Justin opened his mouth.
"Lance, you know that JC has a gaydar?"
Lance nearly knocked off a strategically placed can of soup as he whirled around to face Justin. Justin calmly walked over to a nearby candy shelf and grabbed some packets of plain M&Ms.
"A what?" Lance squeaked. He cleared his throat. "A what, again?"
"Yeah, a gaydar. And he's not gay."
Justin didn't seem to notice the group of middle-aged women shamelessly eavesdropping or the blush that Lance was sporting. Lance lowered his voice before speaking. "Uh...you are telling me this because...?"
"I was wondering if you're gay or bi and I figured that this was the best way to ask you."
The middle-aged women seemed to surround them and increase in size. Lance glanced at them and they quickly looked away.
"No, I'm not and, well, this is not exactly the best place to ask me." Lance glanced at the group of women again and gave Justin a warning look. The curly-hair man shrugged and grabbed another packet of peanut M&Ms.
"Then why are you so touchy and feely with Joey?" Justin asked again. All the women gaped at him. Lance groaned and pushed the trolley to the counter. He paid for the groceries and dragged Justin out, the bags of groceries swinging around crazily.
"I'm not."
"Like real." Justin retorted.
"I'm not! Really!" Lance squeaked, hitting his own shin with one of the bags.
"Really? You're squeaking." Justin grinned while Lance rolled his eyes heavenward in frustration.
"This is really juvenile."
"Someone's got a crush..." Justin sang while Lance shook his head.
"So you can't get in." Chris rested his chin in the kitchen counter.
"Nope, Joey refused to let me in, not even when I mentioned Lance's name." JC paced around the kitchen in frustration.
"Did you try the door?" The older man asked, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Try the door? Chris, isn't it obvious that the door is locked?" JC said, matter-of-factly.
"You didn't try the door knob." Chris pointed out.
"I forgot."
"Lemme get this straight, you basically stood outside the door and shouted to him like a idiot and you didn't think about just walking in." Chris smiled at JC who was studying his own feet.
"Uh...no?" JC replied sheepishly, tugging at his ear.
Chris sighed as he got up from his chair and made his way to Joey's room, JC following cloase at his heels. He entered the room without knocking and saw the various photo albums scattered on the floor, Joey sitting in the middle of the mess.
"Whassup, man, taking a trip down memory lane?" Chris grinned as he picked up a book at random. "I love looking through Joey's photo albums, lots of blackmail material. Ooh, look at this, JC, Joey naked!"
"Chris, you ass! Give that back to me." Joey tried to snatch it back but dropped the album in his lap instead when he stood up. The photographs slipped in the back of the album fluttered down to JC's feet. JC picked them up, recognizing Joey when he was still a kid.
It was a photo of him and another kid his age. They had their arms around each other's shoulders and were grinning happily into the camera. JC asked, curious about the boy. "Who's the kid here?"
Chris snatched the photo out if JC's hands and flipped it to the back. Written in a feminine handwriting were the words, " Joey at eleven with best friend, Robert Grant."
"It's Joey's best bud. How come we've never met him before?" Chris questioned. Joey grabbed the photo, and stuffed it back into the album, closing it with a resounding slap. His eyes narrowed at JC and Chris who unconsciously backed away a few steps.
"That's because he's dead. Now out of my room." Joey spat the words out before shoving both men roughly, slamming the door with an ominous click of the lock. JC and Chris exchanged uncertain glances.
"Well, at least we now know the door is really locked." Chris wise-cracked while JC looked worriedly at the brown door.
Andrea, or better known as the psychic, was bothered about Joey Fatone. Whatever was going on with the man was weird. Yet she couldn't seem to put her finger to it. It just felt wrong somehow. Like there was someone or something following him around, no, more like clinging on to him like a stubborn vine. She could still feel the remnants of the dark aura in the usually peaceful shop.
It scared her.
Picking out some herbs to cleanse the shop, she felt a violet shiver go through her body then a distinctive sense of....vengeance and anger. It almost split her mind into two as she cried out from the unbearable pain. She could recognize the vibes it gave out. The last thing she heard, before she fainted in the ship, was a malicious giggle.