Hi again everyone!
This is the next installment of my story (you probably already knew that). Thank you to everyone who sent me e-mails with all of their encouragement. I really do appriciate it :) Any more comments, critiques, whatevers are welcome at sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com. I'll be waiting!
Of course no installment would be complete without a word of thanks to Clarke, Damon and Cele for your e-mails that not only make me smile, but help me in writing; J. for your useless, but nontheless sweet, offer :P And of course, last but not least, Justin, who was wonderful enough to proofread this installment for me...a million thanks....
DISCLAIMER: This story is about a m/m relationship that you should be 18 or 21 to read. It is in no way meant to allude to the sexuality of 'N Sync, Lance Bass or anyone else in this story...if you are offended, then leave. If not then, go on and read ahead.
My Surprise Romance
Chapter 20
When I woke up that next morning, for whatever the reason, I didn't know where I was. I sat straight up in the bed, knocking Lance's arms off of my body and began looking around the room in a panic. I had no idea where I was.
"Natalie?" I called out, getting out of the bed. "Natalie, where are you?" I walked around the room and looked around it. `Did I redecorate my room?' I asked myself as I began checking the closet and the bathroom--my sister was nowhere to be found. At the sound of my voice, Lance began to stir from his place in the bed.
"Stephen?" he asked groggily, sitting up. "What are you doing?" I turned to face him, my demeanor growing more and more frantic with every passing second.
"Where is Natalie?" I said, not realizing that my voice had grown to a worried yell. "I can't find her anywhere. She was here a second ago and now she's gone." My eyes darted around the room and fell on Lance. I stared at him like he was a stranger. What in God's name was a member of `N Sync doing in my bed? And naked too, no less. Then the realization dawned on me: I was in a hotel room with Lance and not at home.
"Whoops," I said, sinking back down onto the bed, next to Lance. "Got confused for a second there." I felt my face turn red with the embarrassment of what had just happened to me. I looked back at Lance, to find him now fully awake and staring at me with a good mixture of confusion and worry in his green eyes.
"Stephen--what was that?" he asked, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders. "Why were you calling Natalie's name?" I ran a hand through my disheveled hair, and shook my head, trying to clear my tangled thoughts from my head.
"It was nothing," I lied as I stared at my hands and realized that I was shaking terribly.
Lance gave me a disbelieving stare. "You're cold, clammy--don't tell me that that was nothing," he said, pulling me closer. With the other hand, he pressed his cool palm against my forehead. "Was it a nightmare?"
I shook my head, wishing that Lance wouldn't be so concerned with me anymore. "No...it just happens from time to time," I said, nonchalantly. "Don't worry about me."
"How can I not worry?" he asked, smiling tenderly at me. "Stephen, I--" Just as he was about to finish his thought, someone pounded on the door.
"Stephen--it's Cynthia. Let me in, I heard you yelling Natalie's name again," she hollered through the door. "Did you take your pills?"
Lance looked at me, his green eyes filled with not just worry, but shock as well. "Pills? Stephen, what's going on?" I shook my head, not believing what a fiasco this had turned into. I pulled the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around my waist as I stood up. I walked to the door, and opened it a crack to see Cynthia standing there, looking extremely concerned.
"Cynthia, please--I'm fine. Don't worry about it. I'll take my pills in a few seconds," I said calmly, despite the fact that my heart was still beating like a jackhammer. She stared at me, eying me suspiciously.
"Are you sure? Stevie, promise me.." she trailed off, her violet eyes piercing. I could tell she didn't believe me. Just then, Lance came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"Don't worry," he told her. "I'll make sure he'll take his pills right now." Cynthia smiled at him; inwardly, I was fuming. I hated those pills...God, please don't tell me that Lance was going to mother me now, I thought with resentment as I turned away from the door and headed into the bathroom.
"Thanks, Lance," she said, dropping her voice so that I wouldn't hear her next words. "Just make sure that he takes them, okay? He refuses to take them of he gets one of his attacks." I sat on the toilet, placing my head in my hands. `Why did she have to tell him that?', I thought wearily. This was the one thing that I didn't want Lance knowing about.
He appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, arms folded over his chest staring at me like a figure of stern authority. "Okay, where are the pills?" he asked.
I raised my head from my hands, feeling like a child being reprimanded for something bad I did. "I didn't bring them with me. I--I didn't think I'd need them," I told him, shrugging my shoulders. Lance stared at me for a few more seconds.
"What kind of attacks was Cynthia talking about? Stephen, you're not...sick are you?" Lance asked, worry clouding his face. I couldn't help but smile at his concern.
"No, silly," I said, reaching up and pulling him into my lap. "I just get these screaming attacks--actually, this one wasn't that bad," I said, thinking about it. "I usually go a little crazy. Cynthia knows because I had one a long time ago where I freaked everyone out." I shook my head at the memory. I had waken from my sleep, ran outside screaming nonsense at the top of my lungs and wound up tripping down the stairs. I wound up cutting my bottom lip open and had to be rushed to the hospital to be stitched up. Of course I didn't tell Lance this--it would have caused him to worry even more.
Lance stared at me as though he couldn't believe what I had just told him. "But you're okay, right? You're not dying of cancer or anything like that, right?" he said panic running through his deep voice.
"No, as far as I know I'm in one hundred percent perfect health," I smiled, kissing him on his forehead. "Now, get out of here. I have to go pee," I told him, pushing him off my lap. "And shower."
"You don't need a little company this morning?" Lance asked, pouting a little. I shook my head.
"No, cause if I have your company, I'll never get out of here," I said, giving his ass a push out of the bathroom. Lance turned back towards me and grinned. I shut the door in his face and stood up, walking to the sink. I stared at myself in the mirror, and was shocked by how pale I turned. I took a deep breath and blinked a couple of times. Oh God, I thought as I turned on the shower, please don't start these attacks again...please.
Despite the fact that I had waken up screaming my sisters name, I had settled into a pretty good mood, until Chris came into the room and announced that the bus was leaving in less than ten minutes.
"I called you guys before, and I figured you woke up. One of you guys yelled back, `okay'," he explained, scratching his goatee as I frantically pulled a t-shirt over my head. Lance walked out of the bathroom just then, with a towel wrapped around him. He looked at Chris standing there in the doorway, and then at me shoving my belongings into my suitcase and groaned loudly.
"We overslept didn't we?" he guessed, quickly running over to his suitcase, pulling out the first pieces of clothing he found.
"Yup," Chris said, nodding. "You have exactly--" he looked at his watch. "Eight minutes to get downstairs and on the bus. And no excuses. Marshall is being a drill sergeant this morning," he said before closing the door.
"Why didn't Cynthia tell us?" Lance said frantically as pulled on a pair of drawstring pants and slid his feet into a pair of sneakers.
"Because she was too concerned about me this morning," I said, quickly glancing at myself in the mirror. Not even bothering to brush my hair, I grabbed my suitcase and backpack off the bed and checked to make sure I left nothing behind. I looked at Lance who was quickly buttoning a shirt up.
"Ready?" I asked him. He nodded, grabbed his belongings off the bed and followed me out of the room, never checking the room to make sure he didn't leave anything accidentally behind.
Once we had made it onto the bus (with two minutes to spare I should add), we were greeted with hello' and morning, guys' by the rest of the band and Cynthia. As I walked onto the bus, I noticed that she was watching my every move like an overprotective parent. I headed to my bunk in the back of the bus so I could put my belongings away.
"Stephen?" Cynthia asked causing me to jump at the sound of her voice. I turned around.
"Yes?"
"Did you take your pills?" she questioned, sitting down on her bunk across from me. I nodded, fully aware that I was lying. There was no way I was going to tell her that I hadn't taken them because knowing Cynthia she would have taken over the bus and driven me back home just so I could take them.
"Good boy," she said, reaching up to pet me on the head. I pushed her arm away and sat down on my bunk .
"So how'd the date with Josh go last night?" I asked her. The grin that appeared on her face told me everything.
"Wonderful," she sighed, closing her eyes. "I've never had such a perfect date in my life. Let me tell ya, Stevie, that boy knows how to wine and dine a lady," she swooned, her violet eyes sparkling with happiness.
"You're a lady??" I asked in shocked response. She grabbed her pillow off the bed and bonked me over the head with it, causing feathers to fly around us. Cynthia looked at the pillow in her hand, ignoring me as I rubbed my head from her bonk with the pillow.
"Hmmm, you'd think they could afford better ones," she said, unimpressed, examining the ripped material. Footsteps sounded down the narrow hallway that led to our crappy back bunks, causing Cynthia and I to look up in anticipation. Josh suddenly appeared into our view, causing Cynthia's smile to grow even wider.
"Hey you two," he said, holding onto a small paper doggie bag. Josh held it out to me. "Here," he said. "You missed breakfast and I thought I'd grab you some muffins before Joey ate `em all."
I took the bag from him and looked inside to see three blueberry muffins. "Thanks," I said, surprised that he even thought of me. "That's really nice of you."
"No problem," Josh said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. He turned to my cousin, who had a huge grin on her face. "Hey sweetie? Can I ask you a question?"
She automatically turned on the charm, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Yes?"
"Do you have anymore of those shirts you make with you?" The question took her, and me as well, by surprise. Her flirtatious look changed to one of shock as she looked at him as though he had gone insane.
"What are you talking about?" Cynthia asked him in disbelief. "Why would you want one of those things anyways? I mean they're against you."
Josh laughed. "Yeah, I know that, but we think they're funny. And we have an interview on the bus today, and all of the guys wanted to wear one." The look of surprise on my cousins face was priceless.
"Well, yeah...I always have a couple on hand in case I happen to stumble across people who don't like you guys," Cynthia sputtered, as she pulled out her suitcase and rummaged through it. Josh laughed at her eagerness while my cousin triumphantly pulled out four shirts in different colors.
"Lance still has his, right Stevie?" she asked, a bit worried. "Cause I only have four." I nodded, and got off my bunk.
"I'll go check with him," I said hastily, happy for an excuse to go see him. Josh and Cynthia both looked at me with knowing smiles and I couldn't help but blush at their gazes. I grabbed the bag of muffins and headed down the narrow corridor that led to the band's set of bunks. I saw Lance sitting on his bed, tearing his bags frantically inside out.
"What's wrong?" I asked once I saw him. Lance looked up at me with panic in his eyes. "My cross," he said anxiously, turning his suitcase upside down and shaking it. "You know my cross that I always wear? It's not here. I must have left it at the hotel."
"You were wearing it last night," I remembered as I began helping him look for it through his clothes scattered on the bed. Lance nodded and looked at me, a troubled look in his eyes.
"I left it on the dresser, I was about to put it on after I came out of the shower, but that was when Chris told us that we were leaving," Lance sighed, sitting back down on his bunk. "I can't believe I did something so stupid," he berated himself, slapping himself in the forehead.
"Hey," I said, pulling his hand down. "Don't do that to yourself," I scolded him. "It was my fault anyway--if I hadn't freaked out this morning, you would have never forgotten it."
Lance looked at me with an amazed expression on his face. "What are you talking about? I was the one who forgot it, dummy," he said, leaning over to place a soft kiss on my forehead. "I just feel like an idiot though--I'll never see it again. You know someone cleaning that room is gonna find it and sell it on ebay." With another forlorn sigh at the memory of his lost necklace, Lance picked my hand up to look at my watch. "And we have an interview on the bus in about an hour."
"That's my boy--knowing what's going on again," I said proudly, trying to get his mind off his necklace. I patted his head, a la Cynthia's previous gesture that morning.
"I am not a dog," he said in mock protest, only to give me a sly grin. "But I'll be yours."
"Oooh, kinky," I said, as I leaned over to kiss his neck. "I like that." Despite responding with a kiss of his own, I could tell that his heart wasn't in it. I knew he was thinking of his lost necklace instead of our fooling around and to be honest, I couldn't blame him. During one of our late night talks, Lance had told me how he used to be a choirboy and how important his Southern Baptist bringing up was to him. The cross, he explained, was an expression of his faith, and even though it condemned the idea of me and him together, he still believed in it. I knew that losing that necklace was like losing a part of him.
We parted from our kiss (and I'll admit I felt a little dirty thinking of religion while kissing Lance), and I remembered why I had come to see him in the first place.
"Hey, I hate to change the subject, but Josh and Cynthia want to know if you still have that `I Hate Boy-Bands' shirt she gave you," I told him. "I guess Josh is planning for all of you guys to wear them for the interview, or something."
Lance laughed at the idea. "Geez, if Marsh sees them, his head might blow up," he thought out loud. "But I like that idea," he said while looking through the clothes spread out around him. He quickly found his burgundy colored shirt, took the one he was wearing off and slipped Cynthia's creation on.
"How do I look?" he asked me standing up. He posed like a runway model, jutting out his left hip and stuck his hand in the air. I giggled at his pose, causing him to look at me with a hurt expression.
"That funny, huh?" Lance said. I shook my head, hoping I'd be able to speak through my laughter.
"No, it just looks like you have hip problems," I said dryly, finally calming down. Then I smacked him in the ass. "Now sit down and have a muffin," I ordered him holding up the doggie bag filled with muffins that Josh had stolen from breakfast. Lance's green eyes lit up happily.
"Food! I'm starving!" And as if to prove a point, Lance's stomach rumbled loudly, echoing in the narrow sleeping area. He looked down in embarrassment and grabbed the bag from me.
"Hey!" I exclaimed, looking down at my now empty hands. "What's the big idea? I brought you the food!" I said, grabbing the bag back from him.
"But I'm starving--and you wouldn't want me to starve, would you, Stevie?" he teased me, using a voice that sounded much like Cynthia's. He pulled the bag out of my hands again, a mischievous smile forming on his lips. I had enough. I pinned him down on the bed, grabbing the paper bag out of his hands for once and for all.
"Ooh, are we getting frisky so early in the morning?" Lance asked hopefully, his perfect eyebrows raising eagerly as I shifted my weight and straddled his hips.
"Think what you'd like. I know I'm just starving," I told him, opening the bag of muffins. I pulled one out and Lance looked up at me as I took a bite out of one. "Mmmm," I mumbled around a mouthful of blueberry muffin. "This is really great--best muffin I've ever had." I polished the entire thing off in front of him, as he practically salivated.
"You're evil," he finally said after watching the last bite disappear into my mouth. "How did I ever fall in love with you?"
"Cause I have a cute ass," I shot back, pulling another muffin out of the bag. "You know that's the only reason you liked me--everything else was secondary." Caving in, I broke off a piece of the muffin and fed it to him.
"Okay, you're right--anything," he said after swallowing the muffin. "Anything so you'll feed me more food." I laughingly obliged and fed him the rest of the blueberry muffin and finally got off of him.
"You know you do have a cute ass," Lance admitted, sitting up. "But that's not why I fell in love with you," he said as his eyes stared at me, growing dark green as they took in my face. I could barely breathe as I listened to his husky words.
"Well," I said, swallowing hard. "Why did you fall in love with me?"
Lance opened his mouth about to say something, when Justin suddenly walked in on us. His face turned red with embarrassment as he noticed the cozy way we we seated.
"Oops, sorry guys," he said, clearly uncomfortable at the sight of Lance and I. "I just wanted to tell you that the interviewer for the magazine is here..." Lance let out a frustrated sigh as we both realized that our quiet time with each other was over--for now at least. He stood up from the bed and walked out of the room, leaving Justin and I alone with each other.
"You two are so lucky," Justin sighed, looking wistful. I could tell his mind was lingering on Harris. "At least you and Lance can be all mushy in front of the guys," he murmured, absently tugging on the bottom of his `I Hate Boy Bands' shirt.
"You could too," I said, patting Justin on his shoulder. He looked at me rather harshly, ready to say something when I put my hands up in defense. "I didn't say anything, I was just offering a suggestion there Curly."
Justin grimaced as he turned away from me and began to walk out. "I know," he sighed, his voice barely audible. "I just wish I could follow it."
The interviewer from the magazine, Monica, was young, a fresh-from college type eager to get all of the dirt, I noted as the guys innocently flirted with her. Cynthia and I sat on a couch, at the request of the guys, which caused Monica to notice my cousin almost immediately.
"A-ha--here she is, the girl who crushed a thousand dreams," she laughed good-naturedly. "So are the tabloids accurate? Are you and Lance Bass a couple?" And with that, she stuck her tape recorder directly into Cynthia's face. For some reason, I could tell that my optionated cousin hated Monica on sight. And as I looked around at the guys, I could tell that they weren't too fond of her either--especially Josh, who's face had twisted into a scowl.
"Well, as a matter of fact,"Cynthia began, a bit tart-tongued in her response. "Lance and I are not a couple--" And then Josh cut her off.
"We are," he said proudly, walking over to Cynthia and placing his arm around her. `Alright, Josh,' I cheered him on silently, as I watched the expression on my cousins face change from perturbed to elated. Monica looked at Josh in shock.
"JC--does this mean you're now taken?" she asked in her phony voice. Josh nodded firmly.
"Yup--completely spoken for. My girl here makes these great t-shirts," he said, pointing to his navy blue shirt. "That's why I like her so much--she wasn't a star struck fan when I met her."
"Hated the guys," Cynthia interjected. "I can't even stand their music."
Monica looked at the two of them as though they were crazy. "JC, as one of the bands lead vocalists, aren't you worried that your fan base will drop because of this?" she asked, holding the recorder directly in front of his mouth. He gently pushed it away and smiled.
"Nah--the girls have Curly over there," he quipped. "And you know how Curly loves the ladies!" All of the guys laughed at Josh's remark, with the exception of Justin, who stared at his friend with the briefest look of complete horror flashing on his handsome face. And then he suddenly began to laugh like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard.
"That's right," Justin said. "The guys know that when I hit the clubs, I'm always lookin' for the honeys," he lied, letting his eyes nervously drift over to mine for a brief second. Monica laughed at his remark and then turned to Lance, who was sitting on the floor, next to the couch.
"So, now that the tabloid rumor is cleared up, are you still one of `N Sync's eligible bachelors?" she asked him in a teasing voice, shoving the tape recorder into Lance's face, which stiffened uncertainly for a second, before he answered her with a relaxed smile.
"Well...no. I do have someone very special in my life, though," Lance answered truthfully. "I'd rather keep it private, because that person means an awful lot to me. Our relationship is pretty special and I'd hate to ruin it by going public and messing it up." I felt my heart drop to my stomach. Had he really just said that? To a reporter who would without a doubt, plaster it all over the cover of some teen magazine? The rest of the guys blankly stared at him, a bit taken aback by the intense seriousness of his answer.
Monica looked at him, question marks for eyes. "Um...okay," she managed to say. Clearly that wasn't the answer she was expecting."Joey, Chris? What about you two?" They answered her question, but I didn't even hear it as Lance quickly looked up at me and smiled gently. His eye contact said enough, and that was enough for me to quickly excuse myself from the rest of the group and hurry off to the bathroom.
Once inside of the spacious lavatory, I walked over to the sink, turned it on and quickly splashed some cold water on my face. When I looked back up and into the mirror, I stared at my reflection in disbelief. Pieces of Lance's statement to the reporter echoed in my ears...very special'... means an awful lot'...no one had ever told me that in my entire life. I let out a shaky breath, feeling somewhat transformed by Lance's words and then walked back out into the sitting room of the bus.
Monica was still interviewing the guys, and I looked over at Cynthia and Josh, who were tangled in each other's arms. Watching them, I felt a flash of envy shoot through me, resenting the fact that Lance and I couldn't do that simply because in the eyes of the public, it would be wrong. Why would it be so wrong? We were two human beings, regardless of our gender, and we were in love. And when you're in love, you want the world to know. In a way, I felt cheated--here I was, happy for the first time in my life and I couldn't tell anyone basically because my boyfriend was a big pop star who's fame was partially based around the fact that millions of teenage girls were madly in love with him.
Stop being so selfish,' I told myself, plopping back on the couch. If this is hard for you, imagine how hard it is for Lance.' I looked over at him, watching him goof around with the rest of the guys as they mercilessly picked on Joey for his appetite. I studied his face and unbeknownst to me, a smile appeared on my lips as I watched him. I was jolted out of my fantasy as Cynthia tapped me on the shoulder.
"Stevie," she whispered, so that Monica wouldn't hear. Her eyes shifted over to where I was staring. "You're practically drooling as you stare at that poor boy. Maybe you should be more obvious." I poked her in the side and grinned at her, unable to keep my emotions bottled up anymore.
"Oh shut up, at least you can cuddle with your man," I shot back. Cynthia's face lit up in a brilliant smile.
"Yeah," she sighed happily. "Isn't it great? But you know what that makes me?"
"What?"
"Officially, the most hated girl in a teenager's life," Cynthia laughed nervously. "I'm waiting for the I Hate Cynthia' websites to pop up about me now." Then she shrugged. "Oh, well--screw em, I'm happy." And then she turned back to Josh and began babbling about something or other.
Happy. That one simple word that everyone wanted to feel. I looked over at Justin, who on the outside appeared as happy as one rich, famous nineteen year old could be. But as I remembered our conversation the other day, I knew that inside he was miserable beyond belief, hiding his double life from everyone else. Then I looked back at Lance and though I knew he was happy with our relationship, I could tell that the idea of his missing necklace was still bothering him...and then suddenly, I knew what I had to do to make everything right.
By the time the interview was over and Monica was off the bus, we were in the next town--Los Angeles, California. I had never been there and my first glimpse of the famed city was a steady, stream of rain that fell from the heavy gray sky. I let out a depressed sigh as we got off the bus and were hurried into our new hotel, flanked by bodyguards. Glamourous? Yes. Fun? No. Lance and the rest of the guys were hurried off to their rehearsal for that nights concert, and while Cynthia went with them, I stayed behind, leaving me to my own devices.
Cynthia had come back from rehearsal early and wound up sitting with me in the `lounge' area of their floor, basically relaxing from the fast paced schedule that we had been leading for the past few days. And while I'll be the first person to admit that love had made my cousin a happier, more well-adjusted person, I'll also admit that she looked more tired than usual.
"Do you know how much concealer I've gone through, Stevie?" she asked, hooking her legs over the arm of the chair she was plopped in. "A whole bottle in two weeks. A whole bottle! And that stuff isn't cheap, you know. It's Chanel--almost thirty bucks a pop..." She rambled on about cosmetics for a few more minutes, and I'll admit that I wasn't listening. There seemed to be a hundred and twenty more interesting things for me to do than to listen about Cynth's make-up problems. However, I just smiled and nodded as though I was listening--anything to keep her happy.
Suddenly we heard voices coming down the hallway. Cynthia stopped her incessant chatter and sat up in her seat. I craned my neck from the couch that I was lying on to see what all the commotion was.
"Cynthia? Stephen? Are you guys in there?" Justin's voice called out. Cynthia, always being the `peppy' leader, jumped off her chair and ran to the door. I stayed where I was, only to finally get up when I saw Lance enter the room. He walked over and flopped on the couch next to me.
"Hey there," he said, greeting me with a kiss. "Missed you." I smiled at him and grabbed his hand, completely unaware that the guys had brought someone new back with them, until I heard a female voice that definitely did not belong to Cynthia. Unless she had suddenly started speaking with a Southern accent.
"Chris, put me down you big brute!" the girl said, laughing. I looked up to see Chris twirling a short, blonde haired girl around in his arms. When he finally put her down, I noticed that the new visitor was none other than Britney Spears (who I should add is much prettier in real life than on posters). She was dressed simply, in a lace trimmed tank top and denim shorts. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cynthia roll her eyes and cross her arms over her chest. If there was one thing she hated more than boy-bands, it was pop princesses and Britney definitely fell into that category.
"I can't believe that we'd be in L.A. at the same time," Britney said happily, sitting down on the couch across from me. As she did this, her eyes met mine and she looked at me, startled, unsure as to who I was.
"Um...I don't believe we met," she said, eying me strangely. But when her gaze fell upon my hand, which was intertwined with Lance's, her gloss covered lips fell open.
"Whoops," Josh said as he observed the scene in front of him, as he and the rest oft the guys realized that Britney had no idea that I was Lance's boyfriend. "Maybe we should have told you something," he continued, his tone slightly ominous.
"Maybe you should have," Britney agreed nervously, brushing her blonde hair behind her ears. "What's going on guys?" She continued to stare at me and then shifted her gaze to Lance.
Lance and I looked at each other. "You tell her," I said, giving him a shaky smile. "You know her, I don't."
"Are you sure?" Lance asked, waiting until I responded with a nod. Slowly, he pulled himself off the couch and walked over to where Britney was sitting. She stared at him curiously as Lance took a place to her. There was a nervous look on his face as he cleared his throat, preparing to break the news to his friend.
"I don't know how to start, Britney," Lance sighed. "That guy over there is Stephen," he said slowly. He cleared his throat once more before continuing. "Stephen is my boyfriend." He paused once more. "I'm gay, Britney."
She stared at him for a few seconds in disbelief. I watched as she looked at the rest of the guys, until her gaze finally fell on Justin, who looked away once her eyes met his. Then she looked back at Lance, her lips slowly curving into a smile.
"Oh my God--I mean, I don't care that you're gay or anything. Half the dancers in my group are gay, but I guess I never expected you to be, Lance," she said, a bit taken aback. Britney looked over at where I was sitting and her smile grew wider. "Hey," she said, giving a wave. I waved back to her and then decided to walk over to them, just as Britney wrapped Lance in a hug, whispering something in his ear.
"Hey, hey, that's my guy you're hugging," I reminded the two of them, as Britney looked up at me. She then stood up and wrapped me in a hug, despite the fact that I didn't even know her.
"Hi, Stephen" she whispered in my ear. "It's very nice to meet you." I was a bit shocked by her open warmth towards me as we parted. She turned to the rest of the guys, with a twinkle in her brown eyes.
"Okay, any more secrets guys?" she announced with a laugh. "Tell me now so I don't feel so left out." With that, Josh and Cynthia looked at each other and shrugged, as though saying, `What the hell'. Josh stepped forward and grabbed Britney's hands.
"Hey Brit, mine as well know--I have a girlfriend," he told her. He dropped her hands and then beckoned my cousin over. "This is Cynthia--Stephen's cousin," he introduced, once she was by his side. "She came along with us to keep Stephen company," he explained to Britney, wrapping an arm around Cynthia's waist, causing her to snuggle closer at him. She smiled at the teen pop queen. happy that Josh had acknowledged her presence in his life.
Now Britney looked completely shocked. `Oh my...I don't talk to you guys for a few weeks and look what happens," she chuckled, taking in Josh's exuberant grin as he held my cousin tight. "Wow, Josh--I'm really happy for you." And like with me, Britney walked over to Cynthia and wrapped her in a hug, completely taking Cynth by surprise.
"Anything else I should know?" Britney asked in a mock stern voice, placing her hands on her hips. "Joey, Chris--anything I should know about you two? Dating aliens? Anything?" When they shook their heads `no,' Britney waved them away with her hands. "Forget it then--you guys are boring," she laughed before heading off towards Justin.
I sat on the couch next to Lance, picking his hand up again. "Wow," I murmured under my breath, so that only we could hear. "Britney took it quite well," I said, impressed.
Lance nodded, clearly relieved. "Yeah, she's great. Nice girl--now if we could get her and Justin together for once and for all, we'd be set," he stated, looking off at the two people who were standing in the corner, immersed what seemed to be a heavy conversation. I furrowed my brow, as I watched Britney and Justin talk. It was clear from the look on Britney's pretty face, that something Justin had said, made her clearly upset. And me, being the perceptive fellow I was, had a pretty good idea what it exactly was.
"What's wrong?" Lance asked, noticing the distressed look on my face. He placed his head on my shoulder and looked up at me with a questioning look in his eyes. Staring into his beautiful eyes for a second, I leaned over to give him a reassuring kiss.
"Nothing's wrong," I told him after we parted. Lance gave me a smile, satisfied by my answer and settled in closer to me on the couch. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders as my gaze headed back towards Britney and Justin. They were talking heatedly now, and I could make out only a few words. Suddenly Britney embraced her best friend in a hug that was much more caring than the one she had given me and Cynthia earlier. When they parted, I saw sadness in her eyes as she watched Justin walk out of the room. And as I watched Britney, I couldn't help but feel that something bad was going to happen once again.
Okay, that's it...so what do you think of the Britney angle, everyone? Good, bad, don't care? Anyhoo, if you would be ever so kind to send me an e-mail at sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com and tell me, then by all means go ahead. And until next time...thanks for reading!