My Surprise Romance

Hi everyone!

Well, once again here's the continuing installment of my story. It's taken awhile, it's long but it finally covers the mysterious Harris that so many of you want to know more about. I'd really like some feedback on this one--and thank you to the few (ahem, ahem) who took the time out to e-mail me about the last installment. More feedback, comments and anything else you'd like to say is definitely welcomed at sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com. Please, please, please drop me a line, even if it's bad. I don't care, I love e-mail.

And of course, thank you, thank you and thank you to Cele, Khiem (who knows about the "Strawberry Wine" allusion--hee hee-- and has great taste in music! Plus he writes, Umm, Whatever'.), John (Sweetie, when are you updating A Little Bit of Love'?), and Clarke (thanks for all of the info in this chapter! This one is for you, honey). And Justin? Well, what else can I say? `Thank you' seems too menial for all of the help, support and other things I can't mention ;) I think you know how much I appreciate everything so I'll just shut up and leave it at that...

DISCLAIMER: You know the drill--this story is fiction. Fiction. It deals with a m/m relationship, and is not meant to imply the sexuality of anyone in `N Sync, especially Lance Bass or Justin Timberlake. The only people whose sexuality I know for sure are my characters, since they're mine. If you can't deal with this, then don't read it. Simple. And if you can, then read on...and now....

My Surprise Romance

Chapter 29

The remainder of our group lunch had gone extremely well, but during the meal, my mind kept flashing back to Cynthia. For some reason she had been haunting my thoughts...maybe it was because she had always been there for me in times of my crisis and I felt like I wasn't doing the same.

"You know after this, we have an interview," Lance told me once we were back in the limo, heading back towards the hotel.

"Really?" I asked him somewhat foggily. Although my brain was attempting to give Lance my full attention, a good part of it lingered on my cousin. Lance nodded at me, a look of disappointment on his face.

"Yeah, we're scheduled to talk with MTV about the fall I took...they want to know about my arm," Lance explained, picking up his injured limb and looking at me with a sad, mocking expression. I leaned over and peered at it closely. The bruises on his arm were darker than they were the day before. I winced looking at them...they looked so painful. But before I could say anything else, Lance continued on.

"So I'll be back later in the afternoon," Lance sighed, reaching over to stroke my cheek with his thumb. "Just in time for our date." A grin lit up his face as he thought about it, and I couldn't help giving him a smile myself as the limo turned into the parking lot of the hotel. The chauffeur dropped off Harris, Britney and I at the service entrance of the hotel. The three of us said our goodbyes to the rest of the guys and then watched the limo speed away in search of the studio where their interview would be taking place at. Harris, Britney and I hurried into the service elevator and as the we made our way to the top level, I noticed that Harris and Britney were awfully close. They were talking like motormouths, laughing and giggling, which made me feel a bit out of place. I found myself staring at the illuminated buttons, while Harris and Britney's chattering served as background noise to my thoughts. I wondered how in hell the date with Justin and Harris going to go, if I could barely say anything to him now. I knew next to nothing about Harris and only talked on occasion with Justin. It was only when Lance and I were alone together that I felt completely comfortable in my own skin.

When the elevator finally reached our floor, I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped onto the plush carpet. After we said our goodbyes to each other, Harris and Britney headed down one end of the hallway to talk about what Harris was going to wear that night. I headed the opposite way, towards Cynthia's suite. As I neared her room, I found that my worries about her was beginning to grow in considerable measures. I wondered if she was going to be an angry, crying wreck or if she would act like nothing had happened. I pondered the different possibilities as I stood in front of her suite door.

`Mine as well get this over with,' I thought with a sigh as my knuckles gently rapped on the cream colored entrance.

"Cynthia?" I called out, my voice echoing throughout the hallway. "Cynthia?"

A few seconds passed. Then a few more. I shifted from foot to foot, wondering if should kick the door down when I heard my cousin exhale a loud, disgusted sigh. A morose sounding, "Come on in, Stevie," followed that sigh and with more than a little bit of trepidation, I turned the doorknob and walked into Cynthia's suite. I found my cousin lying on her bed, clad only in a white camisole and her underwear, which if she wore while venturing out in public, could very well have gotten her arrested. Her normally neat strawberry blonde hair was tangled like a rats nest, while her mascara ringed violet eyes were focused on the television in front of her. A half-smoked cigarette dangled from between her fingers.

"Hey, Stevie, what's up?" Cynthia asked monotonously, not tearing her eyes away from the glowing television set. I peered at the set with her, curious to know what program had captivated Cynthia's attention with such rapture.

"Old game shows?" I asked in surprise after I realized what was on the screen. "Cynthia, episodes of the $25,000 Pyramid aren't even in production anymore. This is from--" She cut me off with a wave of her hand.

"1982, Stevie." She pointed her cigarette at the television while the show's closing credits rolled past the screen. "Let's just say that this is the best thing on. At least when the people lose, I know that they have to be more miserable than me." Cynthia let out a bitter laugh, as she stubbed her cigarette out in one of the hotel's complimentary ashtrays and immediately reached for the pack besides her.

"Want one?" she asked while holding the half empty/full pack out to me. I stared at my cousin with disbelieving eyes, as she shrugged at my reaction and pulled one out of the pack with her lips

"Cynthia--I thought you quit ages ago," I said, frowning as she lit up. "And how dare you offer me one. I quit in high school, you know that." Cynthia looked at me with another disbelieving stare as she slipped her disposable lighter into the pack of smokes.

"That's right," she said, her voice full of disdain. "You don't need a cigarette, because you found something else to suck on." Cynthia let out a sigh that said she was clearly disgusted, as she took a drag on her cigarette. Then she looked at me once more, this time her eyes flashing. "And Stevie, just so you know, when you and Lance go at it like wild animals, make sure you don't scream so that everyone and their brother knows what's going on. It's a little embarrassing to know what you two are up to..." Cynthia trailed off as she lost interest in her thoughts and became engrossed in an ancient episode of Password. My mouth dropped open at her crass comments and I felt something snap inside of me. It takes an awful lot to get mad at my cousin...and this was one of the times.

Without thinking, I slammed my hand down on the endtable that sat next to the bed, causing Cynthia to nearly fly through the ceiling. She looked at me with wide, frightened eyes upon seeing my anger.

"What the hell was that?" she screamed at me. I couldn't blame her--rarely did I ever raise my temper like that. I wasn't one to scream or rant or break stuff...I had always believed in taking things with a grain of salt, but this wasn't one of those times. Cynthia had slipped into her irrelevant rude girl mode and whenever this happened, it was my job to bring her back down to reality.

"'What the hell was that?' I'll tell you what the hell that was--it was the sound of someone sick and tired with you, that's what!" I glared at my cousin, as I picked up the remote and flicked the television set off. She took another drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke into my face.

"Sick and tired? What are you so sick of? You--" she said, jabbing me in the chest. "Have a boyfriend who loves you. Who would do anything for you. Justin has his boyfriend. And who do I have? No one!" Cynthia sat up, pulling her legs under her legs underneath her. "Do you know what it feels like when two gay couples have better relationships than you've ever had?" She threw her arms up in outrage, nearly starting the pillow behind her on fire. "I feel like a goddamn failure who can't find a man."

"You have Josh," I offered simply, as Cynthia shot me a glare that could have turned me to stone.

"Stevie, he was kissing some slutty girl. On the mouth. With his tongue." She sighed and buried her head in her arms, pulling her knees up to her chest. When she looked back up at me, her violet eyes were staring at me a bit shakily. I thought I saw tears in her eyes, but any traces of that emotion disappeared. "You want to know something really personal, Stevie? I mean, really personal?" She was staring at me with those sad eyes and I could tell that she was dying to tell me whatever she had to tell me, even if I didn't want to hear it.

"Sure."

"Stevie...Josh and I slept together for the first time a few nights ago..." she trailed off and took another reassuring drag on her cigarette. She exhaled the smoke evenly before continuing. "Stevie..." She closed her violet eyes and then opened them and looked straight at me. "That was my first time."

My first reaction was to laugh. The idea of my cousin being a virgin was just...funny. She was always such a tease, a flirt...I had always thought she had lost that aspect of herself in high school. I guess I was wrong. And for some reason, the idea of my cousin having sex was more than unpleasant--it was downright disgusting. Maybe that was why she was so adamant about Lance and I going at it that afternoon. Thankfully, I had held my first reaction back and looked carefully at my cousin, who was now staring at her knees in self-pity.

"You're serious, aren't you?" I asked her slowly. Cynthia raised her head up and gave me a single nod, as she took another drag of her smoke.

"Yup...we slept together and then he goes and makes out with some girl that he meets in a nightclub. God," Cynthia sighed, shaking her head. "I'm such an idiot. Stupid, stupid me..how could I have been so gullible?" Her normally outgoing voice had fallen to a soft whisper as her mind recalled the previous night. "Josh must have thought I was this naive, Wisconsin farm girl. How could I have fallen so hard for him like that?" She looked up at me, her voice changing to a harder tone. "I knew I hated these bands for a reason..and this is it!" she added emphatically, as if it proved her point. "Arrogant, self centered jerk," she muttered under her breath. "I hope he dies."

My mind began to panic. I knew that once my cousin had an opinion, it was hard to change her mind. "But Cynth," I began, thinking of the necklace that Josh had bought her that morning. "Why can't you go and talk to him when he and the guys come back from their interview? Just see what he has to say," I attempted to persuade her. But she shook her head more firmly and flicked her cigarette against the side of the ashtray.

"Hell no," she said shortly, as her eyes continued to stare off into space. "I have a bit more pride than that, thank you very much. I've been burned twice in the past few months--first Michael and now Josh." She let out another bitter laugh. "I think I'm gonna resort to girls now." We both laughed a bit uneasily at her joke and then let the silence of the room pass between us for a few seconds. Cynthia then looked at me. "Now, if you don't mind Stevie--I want to take a nap. I still have a terrible headache from last night."

"You're lucky you're not dead," I said dryly as I got up from the bed and headed towards the door. "I heard that you practically drank the whole club out of it's entire liquor supply." I was rewarded with Cynthia sticking her tongue out at me. Just as I was about to leave, my cousin's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Hey Stevie?" I turned around to look at her, my eyebrows raising themselves inadvertainly at the serious demeanor on her beautiful face.

"Yeah?"

She paused for a brief moment, biting her lip in what seemed to be frustration. For once in my life, the girl on the bed didn't look like my cousin anymore. She looked more serious, like she had grown up in a matter of days. "Stevie...I love you." Cynthia swallowed. "...thanks for talking to me." I looked at her a bit oddly, struck by the sudden change in her behavior.

"Thanks Cynth," I said, giving her a smile. "You're sure you gonna be okay? Not gonna do anything stupid are you?" Thoughts of the worst possible solutions ran through my head, namely suicide...I don't know why that thought had popped up in my head. Maybe I had seen one too many tv-movie's-of-the-week about damsels in distress who attempt killing themselves after breaking up with a boyfriend.

Her eyes widened at me while she gave me a firm nod of her head. "NO! God, Stevie..." she trailed off before adding, "I'm gonna be fine." I stared at her for another second, and when the expression on her face didn't change, I just gave her another smile and then left her room.

Once I left Cynthia, I headed back to the suite that Lance and I shared. When I was inside I flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling for awhile. My mind was blank. There was nothing to do, I thought with a bit of annoyance. If I were home now, I thought, I would be painting or sketching or doing something. Not sitting here, staring at the walls with nothing better to do than twiddle my thumbs and wait for Lance to get back.

With a sigh, I sat up and pulled my suitcase out from under my bed, pulling out a tattered copy of Raymond Chandler's `The Long Goodbye'. I nestled myself in the fluffy pillows that lay against the headboard and settled in for some reading. I became so engrossed in the book that I never noticed the loud whoops and hollers that were coming from the hallway. A few seconds later, the door to the room quietly opened and and a blonde-spiky haired head poked in.

"Hey sweetie," I heard Lance's soft voice and looked up at him with a sudden jolt. My attention had been so involved in the book, that I never noticed my boyfriend standing in front of me. Lance gave me a grin as he noticed my surprise.

"Did I scare you?" He asked as he fell onto the bed next to me. I placed the book on my lap, leaned over and gave him a kiss.

"Yes," I admitted. "Do you always do that?"

"Only to the people I love," Lance said warmly, as he stared into my eyes. I briefly became hypnotized by those wonderful green eyes of his, before leaning over and kissing him again.

"So how'd the interview go?" I asked once we parted. Lance let out a weary sigh at my question and ran a hand through his hair.

"Eh--same old, same old. They asked me about my arm of course, and about the tour...and then they started nailing poor Josh about his new relationship with Cynthia." Lance shook his head in frustration. "Jesus, I've never seen him look so sad. That poor guy--he's really heartbroken that Cynthia won't talk to him. I guess he went to talk to her today after you two came back from your excursion and she slammed the door in his face. But," he said, as he tried to hold back a laugh. "I guess she repeated her move from last night."

"Move from last night?"

Lance finally let out a laugh, amusement playing in his eyes despite the seriousness of Josh and Cynthia's rocky relationship. "Yeah, the old knee in the groin trick," he giggled. "I think that's why he was so glum today. He was in pain."

"I think that's Cynth's main move." I said dryly. "Besides jumping on people in surprise."

"I'm just hoping that Cynthia's main move doesn't run in the family," Lance said, looking at me with worry in his eyes. I wagged at finger in his face.

"Just be a good boy, and I won't have to use it. No making out with strange girls in clubs," I warned him

"A girl? Come on, Stephen, we both know girls have cooties," Lance giggled as I placed my book between us. Lance's laughter faded as looked down at the novel and then picked it up.

"This thing's been through the war hasn't it?" Lance asked me as he examined the novel. "How many times have you read this?"

"About twenty times," I admitted sheepishly as Lance gave me a look of disbelief. "I used to read it obsessively in high school during study halls. I was a real nerd back then." I let out an unsure laugh. "And I still am."

Lance shifted himself closer to my body and I could feel him settle comfortably next to me. "I can't believe that," he said with a soft smile, nestling his head in my chest. "You're far from nerdy."

"Thanks," I said as I placed a light kiss on top of his forehead. One of his gelled spikes poked me in the tip of my nose. "Ouch," I said as I rubbed it. "How much stuff do you put in this hair?"

Lance looked up at me with wide eyes. "What?" he asked innocently. "It looks good this way...you wouldn't want me to look stupid, would you?" I rolled my eyes at his mock vanity.

"Heaven forbid!" I exclaimed laughingly as I placed another kiss on his forehead, and this time my crooked nose avoided his spiky hair. "I'd have to make you wear a paper bag on your head."

He stuck his lower lip out at me. "Thanks a lot," he huffed, sounding betrayed. Yet he gave me a grin to let me know that he was teasing, and we lied there for a few seconds. I wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders and let my fingers slowly stroke his still injured arm. Lance let out a little sigh of happiness at my touch, and my heart warmed at the content way we were. Suddenly he looked up at me once more and this time his eyes held a sad, worried look in them.

"You're not bored are you?" Lance asked tentatively, his eyes searching my face for some kind of sign.

"With you? Never. I've never been more excited in my life," I added in a monotonous voice. As I rolled my eyes heavenward, I let out a bored sounding sigh before giving him a grin. Lance just narrowed his eyes at my `overly enthusiastic' response.

"I'll get you for that later," he promised, before rolling his body on top of mine. "But seriously, are you bored here...you know, like today? When we were at our interview?" He stared into my eyes, waiting for my response.

I averted his gaze and chose to stare at the wall opposite from us. I didn't want to admit that I was bored, because God only knew what Lance would have done. It seemed like he had finally gotten back on track in the group, handling the band's interviews and the schedules like he had done before we had met. If I had told him the truth, that I was bored beyond belief when the band was doing their job, I was afraid that Lance would start `mothering' me. He would stop handling his responsibilities and would spend all of his free time entertaining me. And neither Lance, nor I needed that.

"Honey," I said, finally meeting his gaze as Lance reached up and began stroking my temple. "I'm twenty-one years old...I'm fine. I'm not bored." I gave him another grin to let him know that I was serious--well, as serious as I could be without letting him onto my real feelings.

"Positive?" Lance asked me, looking a bit skeptical. "Because I want my Stephen to be happy." My heart melted when he said those words and I couldn't help but give him a genuine smile.

"Positive," I repeated as he leaned in for a kiss. Just as our lips met, the door to our room flew open and a bright light blinked over us, followed by a whirr' and then a click'. Lance and I both looked up, shocked expressions on our faces as we saw Britney standing there. A Polaroid camera was in her hand, as she doubled over laughing.

"Jesus Christ!" Lance jumped off of me in a flash and by the way he moved, you would have never guessed that his arm was injured. Realizing that she was in trouble, Britney let out a shriek. She spun around, hightailed it out of the doorway and ran down the hall, her blonde hair flying.

"Britney! Get back here!" Lance yelled doing his best to sound angry. He gave me a grin, before running out of the room after her. I sat up on the bed, my heart pounding with relief. When I had first saw the camera, I could have sworn that it was some reporter who had sneaked upstairs...but it wasn't. It was only Britney, I thought comfortingly as I pulled myself off the bed. I walked to the doorway, only to see Joey fly past me. He did a double take when he realized that I was standing there, and backed up.

"Have you seen Britney?" he asked breathlessly. "That girl's got a camera and she's been taking pictures." He stood there panting, trying to catch his breath. Just then, a loud female shriek emanated from the suite that the band held their meetings in. Joey's head swung up when he heard it and took off towards the room

"I think you have your answer!" I called out to his retreating figure as he turned the corner towards the room.

"Britney! You're in deep trouble!" I heard Joey scream as he pounded down the hallway. Less than a second later, Chris emerged from his room and looked up and down the hall. Once he saw me standing in my doorway, he began walking over towards me. As he came closer, I noticed that bright red lipstick was smeared messily over his lips and his face was covered with a healthy dose of sparkly pink glitter.

"Never knew you were a drag queen," I teased Chris as he frantically looked up and down the hall. "Actually that shade of red flatters your skin tone quite nicely. You should wear it more often."

Chris shot me a dirty look. "Very funny. Where the hell is Britney? I'm going to kill her!" he announced. I bit my lip to hold back the laughter that was threatening to escape my lips.

"She's really Miss Popularity around here, ain't she?" I asked him. "Joey was looking for her too." A howl of laughter pierced the air and Chris and I looked at each other knowingly.

"They're in there," we said in unison as we began to run down the hall. Quite the fiasco met our eyes once we reached the room. Britney was doubled over in laughter as Lance was struggling to hold Britney's arms behind her back, while Joey was attempting to pry the camera from her hands.

"Got it!" Joey announced triumphantly as he pulled the camera away, and Lance let her arms loose. "Now where are the pictures?" Grudgingly, Britney let out a disappointed sigh while a grin played on her lips as she pulled the incriminating Polaroids from her bra.

"Great place Britney," Lance deadpanned, shaking his head in amusement. "You know I would never go there."

"But I would," Joey remarked lecherously, causing everyone to groan. As we stood there waiting to see the pictures, Lance looked at Chris' face, clearly confused why his bandmate was wearing makeup.

"Geez Chris, do you have some kind of secret to tell us?" Lance asked innocently, realizing that it must be the work of Britney. He ducked his head just in time to avoid Chris's hand coming towards his face. As this was happening, Joey let out a tortured cry.

"I can't believe you took this!" Joey wailed as he examined the Polaroid in his hand. I moved closer to see the picture in question and when I did, I could barely contain my laughter. Chris and Lance crowded around Joey to see a picture of him sitting on the toilet, pants around ankles, obviously in the middle of doing his business. The shocked, interrupted expression on his face was priceless. "This is not my most flattering pose," he grumbled.

"Yeesh, that's enough to turn someone straight," Lance quipped as he stared at the picture with the rest of us. Four pairs of shocked eyes turned to look at him. "What?" he asked, looking a bit uncomfortable at the sudden attention. "Well, it's true." Joey just shook his head at him as he turned back to the stack of pictures.

"Aww, how cute," Joey cooed as he looked at the picture of Lance and I in the middle of our kiss. "Something to send the parents, I assume?" My body momentarily stiffened at the mention of the word `parents', and I think Lance was about to say something in my defense, when I spoke up.

"Yup--that's gonna be in the Christmas card," I joked, causing everyone to laugh. I quickly looked at Lance, giving him a slight shake of my head. No one had noticed my reaction except for us. Britney walked over to Joey, a huge grin on her face as she began to tug on his arm.

"Look at the next one! Look at the next one!" she exclaimed, acting like a ten year old on Christmas morning. I wouldn't have been surprised if she would have started jumping up and down, clapping her hands as Joey looked at the next Polaroid in the stack. Prompt laughter greeted the picture of Chris sleeping, the makeup smeared all over his face while a small teddy bear was nestled in his arms.

"Cute," I remarked in between giggles. "Very cute. I personally think this should be on the cover of every teen magazine. It definitely would sell a lot of copies." More laughter.

Chris shook his head at me. "You think Britney would have done better with the make-up though," he complained mockingly as he took the picture from Joey and looked it over. "Being a girl and all."

"Why did you do this?" Joey asked as he flipped back to the Polaroid of himself. Britney smirked knowingly for a second, before finally answering his question.

"A certain bunch of you made me shoot water out of my nose at lunch." She crossed her arms over her chest. "And if you haven't forgotten boys, I always get my revenge," she said slyly, before dissolving into giggles once again.

"Ooh, just you wait," Joey said, jokingly reaching out to strangle the teen pop star, just as Britney grabbed the pictures out of his hot hands. "Hey! What are you doing with those?!"

"They're mine," she said as she grabbed the other one from Chris before sticking them in her bra again. "And I'll do whatever I choose to do with them." Britney laughed evilly as Chris and Joey began to plead with her. She just kept shaking her head. "Uh-uh. No way. They're mine boys." Defeated, Joey and Chris left the room, as words of `revenge' peppered the air. As Britney was about to leave the room, my eyes fell on the Polaroid camera that sat on one of the loveseats. One of my brilliant ideas popped into my mind.

"Hey Britney?" I called out just as she was about to leave the room. She turned around and looked inquisitively at me. "How much film do you have left in that thing?" I asked, nodding my head towards the camera.

Britney walked over to the loveseat, picked up the camera, and checked the film indicator. "Um..three pictures. Why?" she asked. I looked at Lance, whose face was the picture of curiosity. I just gave him a secretive grin as I turned back around to Britney.

"You wanna take a picture of us? You know, for the old times sake?" My question caused Britney's brown eyes to light up with happiness and a smile appeared on her pretty face.

"Sure! I'd love to!" she agreed happily. Lance and I moved next to each other getting ready to pose for the picture. As Britney picked up the camera and lifted it up to her eyes, she called out, "Say `Britney-is-a-goddess!'" which caused Lance and I to let out a groan. Still, we obliged.

"Britney is a goddess," we both intoned, trying not to laugh. I slipped my hand around Lance's waist. At the same time I did this, I felt Lance's head fall onto my shoulder. And then Britney clicked the button that would forever capture us on film. The bright light flashed in our eyes, temporarily blinding us.

"Okay!" she said, taking the picture from the front of the camera. Walking over, she handed me the still-undeveloped picture. "Hey you two," Britney began as she checked her watch. "I've really gotta split--I have dance rehearsals this evening...so I'll see you tomorrow?"

Lance looked up at her and nodded. "Yup. Hey, Britney?" he called out just as she was about to walk out of the room.

She spun around her blonde hair flying around her face. "Yeah?"

"Thanks," he said, pointing to the picture that was in my hand. She gave him a charming grin.

"No problem. Hey it was fun!" she giggled as she pointed to the pictures that were still placed in her bra. "And I wanna hear all about your little double date tomorrow!" Britney called out as she walked into the hallway.

Once Lance and I were alone, I flipped the picture over and looked at it. It had already developed and there on the film, were Lance and I, looking rather cozy and happy. My hair was sticking out in different directions. Lance's clothes were rumpled. But the look on our faces reflected the true happiness that we had found with each other. I also noted that this was the first time that I had ever smiled in a picture.

"Awww," I said in a goofy voice as I looked at him. "Ain't we the cutest things?" I handed Lance the picture and a exuberant grin lit up his face once he looked at it.

"We are, but Stephen..." he trailed off his voice taking on a warning tone as he gave me another grin to let me know he was joking. "That hair." I let out a laugh as I pulled Lance close to me, and since there was nothing I felt I could say, I just kissed him.

Chapter 30

An hour later, Lance and I were getting ready for our `double date' with Justin and Harris. And although I hadn't seen Harris since we had parted off the elevator earlier, Justin had come down to our room and told us the plans for that evening.

"I made reservations at the El Doraldo Restaurant and then I figured that we'd just hit some bars, some clubs," Justin told Lance and I as we got dressed. I had borrowed some clothes from Lance, since I felt that the clothes I had in my possession weren't nice enough. I was a bit worried since Lance and I were built differently, but what he took up in width, I took up in height (not that I was much taller, or that Lance was fat) but Lance's clothes fit surprisingly well.

And Justin..well, the boy just looked radiant. He looked thrilled beyond bits even at talking about going out with Harris. His eyes were shining and he was a bit fidgety, as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Lance and I looked at each other, trying to hold back our grins. I had been the exact same way on the night of Lance's and my first `official' date too, so I knew what Justin was going through.

When Justin finally left, I sat back down on the bed and watched as Lance finished buttoning up his bright red shirt. Sensing that my eyes were glued on him, Lance looked down at me and gave me a smile.

"Nervous?" he asked, falling on the bed next to me.

"Nah...far from it," I answered as reassuringly as I could, although the voice in my head screamed, Lie!!' Yes, I was nervous, but it wasn't over being with Lance. I couldn't even feign nervousness around him anymore. No, what I was nervous about was the idea of going out with the new couple. And for a brief second, I regretted saying yes' to Justin that afternoon.

But that thought quickly left my mind as I glanced at the clock. "What time did Justin say we should meet downstairs in the limo?" I asked Lance as I attempted to hold back a sigh.

"Eight o clock," Lance recalled as he stood up and pulled me with him. His eyes critically looked me over and rested on top of my head. "Come on, we have to fix that hair." I stuck my lower lip out at him.

"Leave my hair alone...just because I picked on yours today, doesn't mean you can do the same," I laughed as Lance picked up a hairbrush off the dresser and started brushing my hair away from my forehead.

"Is it a crime for me to want to see your beautiful eyes?" Lance said softly in his deep voice as he placed the brush back down on the dresser. Lifting his hand, he ran a thumb over my cheek and gazed longingly into my eyes. Under his scrutinizing, alluring gaze, I felt my face begin to turn hot with embarrassment.

"Come on," I managed to say as I shook myself from his hypnotic stare. "We have to meet them...don't want to be late." When the last word left my mouth, Lance quickly pulled me closer to him and passionately kissed me. I let myself fall into his embrace for as long as the kiss lasted and then we parted.

"Sorry," he apologized softly, as he pressed his forehead to mine and looked deeply into my eyes. I felt as though Lance could see straight into my soul just then and I hoped that he could read everything that I felt for him. "I just had to do that...you look so handsome tonight--I couldn't resist."

"Well I'm wearing your clothes, so what does that say?" I shot back, as I pulled away so that I could look at him.

"That I have wonderful taste?" Lance laughed softly as he kissed me once more, this time on the tip of my nose.

"Yeah, something like that," I shot back as we parted from our embrace. "Let's get to the elevator before something else happens and we'll never make it out of here." I led Lance to the door.

"But maybe I don't want to go," Lance protested from behind me. I turned around and gave him a questioning look upon seeing the serious expression on his face.

"You don't want to go?" I asked, trying to keep the hopeful sound out of my voice. Maybe he felt the same way I felt. Maybe he didn't want to go out with Justin and Harris and maybe we could just have another night in...just the two of us, eating pizza and drinking strawberry wine like the night before. I longed to share another evening like that with Lance and as I stared into his green eyes, I thought that maybe for a brief second, he felt the same way that I did.

No such avail. A shaky looking smile broke out on Lance's face. "Nah..I was just kidding. Of course I want to go out with Justin and Harris," Lance said as we left the room. I locked the door behind us as we walked down the hall towards the elevator. We passed Cynthia's room on the way, and I could hear an episode of Card Sharks blaring through the thick door that separated her from us. The contestant's shout of "Higher! Higher!" could be heard as Lance and I stopped in our tracks.

"Is she okay?" Lance asked me incrediously, his eyes flickering towards the door. I nodded.

"Yup...its just that watching old game shows is Cynthia's way of letting off steam," I explained as we continued our walk towards the elevator. Once we got there, I pressed the down button and the service elevator doors opened immediately. Lance and I stepped on the claustrophobic contraption and made our way down to the ground floor. When the doors opened, there was a long black stretch limo waiting for us. The chauffeur was standing next to it, and once he saw Lance, he quickly opened the limo's door for us and we hurried ourselves in so that we wouldn't be noticed.

Lance and I waited patiently for Justin and Harris. I examined the mini bar in the back of the limo, and considered having a shot of whisky to soothe my jumpy stomach. That wouldn't work,' I scolded myself. You'd probably just puke all over the place and make a jack ass out of yourself'. I unconsciously tugged at the somewhat close fitting cedar blue shirt that Lance had picked out of his wardrobe for me. Minutes passed. Where the hell were Justin and Harris?

And almost as though someone had answered my thoughts, Justin and Harris finally scurried noisily into the limo. Their faces were flushed with excitement as they took seats opposite from Lance and I.

"Um, sorry were late," Harris said, attempting not to laugh. "We were kinda...busy," he said looking at Justin out of the corner of his eye. Justin met his look and the two of them broke down into a massive fit of giggles. I felt the corners of my mouth turn themselves up into a polite smile as I watched Justin whisper something into Harris ear.

"That's okay," Lance said, his words coming out of his mouth a bit haltingly. "At least you've made it." I sensed the slightest trace of sarcasm in his words, but they fell on deaf ears, as Harris and Justin snuggled a bit closer. The chauffeur leaned into the backseat, a strange look forming on his face as he noticed Justin and Harris' odd behavior.

"Ready sirs?" he asked, pretending not to notice. Lance and I nodded at him, while Justin and Harris were too far gone to even acknowledge his presence. `So much for people not noticing that they're not together,' I thought wryly as the chauffeur closed the door. A few seconds later, the limo pulled into motion and we were on our way to the restaurant. As I sat there, I looked over Harris' wardrobe choice for the evening and suddenly, I felt quite blah in comparison. He was wearing a very elegant black suit, obviously expensive, with light pink crystals on the suit jacket's lapels. Underneath that was a rose colored button up shirt, whose top buttons were undone so that part of his chest showed. His once curly hair had been straightened and completely boxed in his face, and his eyes were now violet, almost like Cynthia's.

I was rendered speechless by his appearance. It was clearly obvious that Harris had a good deal of money under his belt. Seeing this brought back all of the feelings of inadequacy I had dealt with in high school, when I wasn't as cool as the rest of my fellow students. I couldn't afford to be `cool' back then. I had been working non stop at the time, applying to colleges and taking care of Natalie while my mother worked at her job to pay the bills. Back then, it was tough...but we had been happy. We laughed. We joked around. And now, as time grew on and our financial situation became better, there was now an evident split between all three of us.

I tore my mind away from the past, as a round of laughter brought on by some joke that Lance had just cracked brought me back to the present. There was no need for reminiscing, I scolded myself, as I forced myself to join in the laughter as though I had gotten the joke. The conversation remained casual and light during the entire ride to the restaurant, and I actually found myself enjoying the company of Justin and Harris. They were fun, laughing and joking around. I marveled at how different Justin had been since he revealed his true self to everyone. In a way, Justin's newfound happiness was comparable to mine. I could tell by the look in his eyes that Harris had brought everything `alive' for him. Meeting Lance had done the same thing for me. I loved waking up everyday, seeing Lance...the feeling was indescribable. I prayed to God that this wasn't some sort of dream that I was having and that what was happening was real.

In the middle of these thoughts, I failed to notice that we had finally arrived at the restaurant. The chauffeur pulled up to the entrance and parked the car. I looked over at Lance, who was grinning at me as the door swung open. Lance got out first, followed by me and then the infatuated couple. Standing there, in front of the El Doraldo, I looked at the four of us. From the outsiders perspective eye, you would have never guessed that we made up two couples. We stood far apart from each other, waiting to walk into the restaurant.

Once we were inside, the matri'd gushed over Lance and Justin, thrilled that the fact that two members of one of the nations hottest bands had chosen his restaurant to dine at that night. Like the restaurant that Lance and I had gone to on our first date, we were led to a private dining area, secluded away from peering eyes. The private dining room was filled with mostly older people, who probably had no idea who Lance and Justin were. In fact, I could tell that they thought we were just these punk kids who were loitering. Despite the thoughts that were floating around in my head and bothering me, I noticed that the restaurant was very nice, with a heavy Spanish influence on all of the decor. Lush, green plants hung from the ceiling in gold baskets and stood tall in clay pots that were placed sporadically around the room.

After we were seated, I noticed that at first, no one really said anything to each other, as we were more absorbed in our menus. I was starving, since I hadn't eaten since lunch, but as my eyes roamed over the selections, I realized that there was nothing I really wanted. I wasn't used to such high, extravagant prices for meals, and all of a sudden, I craved a good old fashioned fifty-nine cent hamburger and greasy French fries. Sad isn't it? Here I was, surrounded by a luxurious setting, with my boyfriend and all I wanted was some normalcy in my life.

Despite this, when the waiter came around, I ordered some chicken dish with an unpronounceable name. Everyone else followed suit with their orders and Justin ordered a bottle of the restaurants most expensive wine. I nearly had a heart attack when I realized that it cost the exact same amount as the books that I had needed for the past semester: $300. $300!!! Still, I kept my poker face as the wine was brought to the table, popped open and poured for us. I swirled it around in my glass, and took a sip. It was okay, but I still preferred the cheap stuff that could have been bought in a supermarket. Was I being ungrateful? Or just true to myself?

The four of us settled into our surroundings and began to talk about everything and anything. But it was Justin who began to talk about our career paths and what we wanted to accomplish with our lives. I'm not sure how it started up, but as he spoke, it dawned on me that I had no idea what Harris did. Besides sing opera, of course. And since I am part of the Peterson family line, nosiness ran through my blood.

"So, what are you exactly doing here?" I asked Harris, making sure that my voice came out as interested instead of snippy. He smiled at my question and took a sip of his wine, before answering.

"Well, I sing opera of course," he began in his somewhat soft voice. "I've been traveling with the Georgia Men's Opera Chorus since I graduated out of high school." He paused to take another sip of his wine before continuing. "When we were up in Boston around Christmas, I was showcased in one of our shows."

"I saw him when he was singing a Messiah on stage," Justin interrupted, giving Harris a proud look. "It was beautiful." To my surprise, Harris blushed slightly at the compliment, giving Justin a warm, caring smile, before continuing on.

"I love music..it's what I always wanted to do with my life. I hope to become successful at it. And it doesn't hurt that a Leggiero is the highest paid singer either." A blank look must have crossed my face, because Harris quickly added. "A Leggiero is the type of tenor I am. If and when I begin to make a name for myself, I can demand as much money that I feel is reasonable." Harris grinned. "Nice huh?"

"Definitely," I agreed as the food arrived. The waiter placed the plate of steaming food in front of me and I stared at it. It was chicken, but it was covered in a light greenish sauce and chili peppers. I couldn't stand chili peppers, I thought inwardly groaning to myself.

"So what kind of career are you heading into?" Harris asked me as he began to cut into his food. I felt Justin and Lance's eyes zoom in on me and a wave of embarrassment fell over me. Everyone at the table had one thing in common--music. I felt like the odd man out as I announced my future profession.

"I'm a painter," I said aloud, realizing how stupid the words sounded. "I paint pictures." Silence followed my words. I mean, what do you say to something like that when everyone else is planning on spending their lives embarking on these wonderful careers? I realized how shallow my career choice sounded just then, so I followed up my brilliant remark with, "I'm still in college. My last year is coming up now."

"Really?" Justin asked in surprise. "I thought you were done with school." I shook my head.

"Nope. One more year, one more bill," I joked, thinking of the huge tuition bill that would await me if and when I would return home. If my mother would let me in the house. "It's a vicious cycle...I've lasted three years, so I should be able to last one more. And then I go out and try to make a name for myself."

"Are you good?" Harris asked, slapping a hand over his mouth as he realized that the question had come out rather bluntly. "I didn't mean to sound so crass...I just meant, what kind of style do you paint in?'"

"A rather good style," Lance interjected into the conversation. I looked up at him in surprise as a grin flashed on his face and his eyes shone with pride. "I've never really been into art, but this guy can paint. Remember Natalie?" He asked Justin, who nodded upon remembering my sister. "Well, you should see the portraits he's painted of her. Remarkable. And he has a few of Cynthia that are her spitting images." Lance shook his head in awe. "He's good. Better than good. Great."

"Looks like you have quite a fan," Harris teased me. I looked over at Lance, who was gave me a shy smile before turning back to his food. How did he know the perfect thing to say? Those few words of praise that had left Lance's mouth did remarkable things for my ego, which only a few seconds ago felt like a deflated balloon.

"I guess I do," I said modestly, as I nonchalantly kicked Lance's foot with my own as a small gesture of thanks. He kicked it back as we continued to eat our meals. Or, in my case, tried to eat. The peppers were burning a boiling trail down my throat, and I downed a glass of water to soothe the scorched feeling. Lance looked up at me in worry, as I began to choke.

"Are you okay?" he whispered so that Justin and Harris wouldn't notice. It didn't matter thought, since they were wrapped up in a private conversation once more. "Your face is the color of a tomato."

"I'm fine," I lied as I swallowed repeatedly to rid my throat of the stinging. "Thanks for asking though."

"Are you sure?"

"Lance! I'm fine." I grinned at him. "Stop worrying and start eating. The last thing I need or want is a skinny boyfriend," I teased him as I hit his plate with my fork. Lance let out a laugh at my remark and continued to eat his meal. At least he was enjoying his food, I thought enviously as I continued to poke my chili pepper covered chicken breasts. Across the table from us, I noticed that Justin and Harris had stopped eating. Their eyes were locked together in a rather passionate stare and I could tell that their minds were on the same thing.

A few seconds later, Harris threw down his napkin and quickly excused himself, followed by Justin's own hasty exit a few seconds later. It took a few seconds to register what they were up to and when I did realize it, I nearly buried my face in my hands. Lance looked at me, confusion in his eyes.

"Was I eating wrong?" he wondered aloud, setting his fork down next to his plate. "Where did they hurry off to and what the hell is wrong with them?" I let out a little chuckle and shook my head.

"I think I know," I sighed. "They're young. They're in love..." I trailed off as Lance finally got my message

"You don't mean they went off and..."

"Exactly."

Lance stared at his plate for a moment, a cloud of disgust passing over his features. "Why the hell did we come along with them anyway? I don't even think they needed us along if they're gonna act like that." He looked back up at me. "I just hope they're discreet about it...imagine this getting around if someone saw them."

"I don't know," I said in frustration. To be perfectly honest, I liked Justin and Harris, but the way they were acting was making me nervous and uncomfortable. I can't explain it since Lance and I acted the exact same way, but to see them at it? Wrong, just wrong. As I was thinking this, the very happy couple came back to the table. To Lance and I, it was obvious what they had been up to. Justin's hair was messed up, Harris's shirt was partially untucked from his pants, both of their faces were flushed and they had the same goofy, satisfied grins plastered on their lips. Lance and I knew what they had been up to because we had looked like that on more than one occasion.

"Sorry," Harris said as he replaced his napkin on his lap and resumed eating, like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened between Justin and him. "I, uh, had to go to the bathroom." Lance and I looked at Justin, who started to stammer once our attention had shifted to him.

"I...I had to make a phone call. I had to use the phone in the hall," he lied, a blush creeping up his neck.

"But you have your cell phone," Lance brought up slyly, enjoying the uncomfortable look forming on his bandmates face. "You shouldn't have needed to use the pay phone."

"Well...uh, what I mean to say is..." Justin's face turned an even darker red, while I began to laugh behind my glass of wine. "I forgot my cell phone." And as if on cue, the electronic ringing of a cell phone sounded from the pocket of Justin's suit jacket. He looked down at it with a horrified look on his face.

"What did you say, Curly?" Lance looked at him, amusement clearly showing in his eyes. I lost it then, my polite laugher coming out in full chuckles. The patrons in the rest of the private room, shot us dirty looks, but I didn't care. For the first time all night, I realized the absurdity of this whole double date. There was no reason for Lance and I to have had come along with Justin and Harris. It was nice to have been asked, but there was no need for us to chaperone them. Justin poked around in his pocket and answered his phone, but not before shooting Lance a dirty look.

"Hello? Yes, this is he...uh-huh...uh-huh...okay. See you later Chris...yeah, we'll be back later on tonight....okay...bye." Justin switched his phone off and looked at us. "That was Chris--he just called to say that Marshall scheduled a band meeting tomorrow morning and that everyone has to attend it." Lance's face momentarily darkened at the mention of Marshall, whom he still hadn't forgiven for the whole hospital fiasco. Just before he could vent his anger, a middle aged woman suddenly rushed over to our table.

"Um, excuse me," she began hesitantly, speaking to Lance. "But are you two gentlemen Justin and Lance of `N Sync?" The expression on the woman's face was one of embarrassment, as though she really didn't want to bother us. Lance and Justin nodded before the woman continued.

"That's my daughter over there," she said, pointing to a nervous looking little girl, no more than ten years old. "And it's her birthday tonight. She's the one who coerced me into coming over here and I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind giving her an autograph?" The woman began wringing her hands uncomfortably as Justin and Lance looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

"Why not?" Lance said simply, standing up from the table. He looked over at me. "We'll be back in a minute guys." He gave me a smile as he and Justin headed over to woman's table and knelt down next to the little girl. Her face had turned to the perfect picture of disbelief as Justin and Lance began to talk to her.

I looked over at Harris, whose eyes were plastered on Justin and from the look on his face it was clear that he absolutely adored him. He must have felt me watching him, because Harris turned to me with an `I've-just-been-caught" look on his face.

"Whoops, I was drooling, wasn't I?" he asked with a soft laugh. He slapped a hand to his mouth and rolled his eyes. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize," I said lightly, giving Harris a smile. "I know the feeling. I do it on a regular basis myself."

Harris let out a long, somewhat disturbed sigh despite the happy look that firmly remained on his face. "It's just that, I've never met someone like Justin before. I've met a lot of people that I've been attracted to, but Justin is just completely different..." As he trailed off, I shifted in my seat, slightly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken on. I've never been good at listening to a person's feelings before, since I've had enough trouble with mine. But I was determined to listen to Harris, even if it killed me.

Across the room, we watched Lance and Justin sing a quiet, yet harmonious version of "Happy Birthday, Janell" to the little girl, who looked absolutely besides herself. I turned back to Harris, to see a huge grin plastered on his face.

"I'm just so happy that Justin finally told everyone about us," he said, his eyes still focused on his boyfriend. "Well," he added wryly. "It was kind of against his wishes, but you'll never see me complaining about what happened." We both laughed at the thought of my wonderful cousin who had done more good than harm, and then focused our attention back on the two men who had made our lives so different.

A sudden thought popped in my mind, and I realized that maybe Harris could answer it. He was, after all, the only other person I could relate to at the moment. "Hey Harris?"

"Yeah?" He turned his head to look at me.

"You and Justin have been together longer than Lance and I...how did you two manage?" I asked quietly.

"Manage what?"

"Staying together under all of the insanity. Being apart, you know, the whole shebang of dating a N Syncer." I took another sip of my drink to keep myself busy as I waited for my answer. Harris looked at me with a pensive expression on his face and then, after what seemed to be an eternity, he finally answered me.

"I don't know really...I guess, it's just that Justin and I were meant to be with each other. We get along incredibly well...it's a weird thing, I guess. It just seems like Justin understands me more than any other person on this planet." Harris stopped himself before continuing. "So when we are apart, it's not a big deal. I know that he cares about me and he knows I care about him." Harris let out a short laugh upon hearing his words. "It sounds so simple when I say it like that, you know? But it's tough to be apart--there's only so much affection you can get fifty thousand miles away."

"Mmmm," I murmured. I had only been away from Lance for two brief weeks and I had felt like I went insane. Harris continued.

"And when we looked over our schedules, it was amazing that they matched almost exactly...it was like this weird sign that we should be together." Harris shook his head in amazement and finally looked up at me. "Does that make sense?"

I nodded. "It most certainly does," I said. "It seems amazing that you'd be in the same city that Justin and the rest of the guys would be in." I let out a sigh. "I quit my job to come on tour with Lance. Now that I look back at what I did, I still can't believe I did something like that."

"Just goes to show you how strong the power of love is," Harris said philosophically as Lance and Justin made their way back to the table. A smile bright enough to light up the dimly lit room appeared on Harris' face as Justin took his seat next to him. "You're finally back."

"Yeah, that girl was so sweet," Justin said as he dropped his hand down under the table. I assumed that he gave Harris' knee a squeeze, but from the way those two had been going at it all night, anything could go.

"Miss me?" Lance asked as he took his seat, giving me his sweet grin that I had come to love. I rolled my eyes.

"I guess," I sighed. Lance punched me in the arm and I laughed. "Okay, okay! I give! Of course I missed you!" I said in a low voice so that no one else would hear.

"That's better," he said approvingly, with raised eyebrows as his eyes moved to the couple opposite us. Something was going on there between Justin and Harris and for some reason, I don't want to go into it. Let's just say that it made me a little uncomfortable watching those two be so madly in love, despite the fact that when Lance and I were alone we were the exact same way: a big sappy mess who couldn't keep our hands off each other. So why did it bother me that Justin and Harris were the same way?

Because you and Lance do it in private, the voice in my head spoke up. I looked over Lance to see how he was reacting, and not surprisingly, his face mirrored my thoughts.

"Guys," Lance hissed between clenched teeth. Justin and Harris looked up at him in annoyance. "We're in public--do I have to get the hose?" These words were once again lost on deaf ears, as Harris and Justin ignored Lance's warning and continued doing whatever they we involved with.

Lance and I looked at each other and the look on his face was as clear as day. "You wanna get out of here?" Lance asked softly, quickly brushing his fingertips over my knuckles. I nodded and within a matter of seconds (and after briefly saying good-bye to Justin and Harris) Lance and I were out of the restaurant on on the streets of Los Angeles.

We walked down the boulevard without saying a word to each other. The sidewalks were crowded with people as thy hurried past us, off to their own destinations for that night. A blackness fell over the city, only to be illuminated by the many neon lit signs of the restaurants and clubs around us. Lance and I shuffled through the crowd, when he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Why did it bother me so much to see Harris and Justin like that?" Lance choked out. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and examined the sidewalk under his feet before meeting my eyes. "Why? We're like that all the time."

"Yes, but we're alone when we do it," I said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. "We're not on display in a restaurant. Even when we went out on our date, we were alone and you kept the groping to a minimum."

"Except when we were in the movie theater," Lance recalled, a devilish grin lighting up his face. I blushed at the thought of the make out session that had gone on that night, and swallowed nervously.

"Well, that was to be expected," I finally answered with a laugh. "But you know, it was weird seeing them together. Not to mention a little uncomfortable. I felt like a peeping Tom."

"Same here," Lance agreed, nodding his head. "Anyways," He cleared his throat. "you wanna get something decent to eat? I mean the food was good, but I could go for some real food. And from the looks of things, I don't think you enjoyed the meal that much either."

"How'd you guess?" I joked, thinking about the almost full plate of food that I had left. "And I'd love to get something to eat with you, Mr. Bass. I'd be honored." Lance grinned at my remark and we set off on a date of our own.

Lance and I wound up taking a taxi to this little off-to-the-side diner. It was exactly the kind of place that you expected the health department to run into any moment and shut down. But to be honest, we really didn't care. As long as we could get some food and not be noticed, we were happy.

As we sat in the booth, with its cracked vinyl pleather, I looked around the diner. It was half empty. The windows were dirty with smeared fingerprints and the silverware had water spots on it. And there wasn't a soul in there that was over thirty years old.

"Nice place," Lance said, as he looked over the menu. "And I mean it. I'll be honest, I haven't been in a place like this for awhile--"

"Big shot," I said teasingly, looking at him over my menu. "I usually live in places like this during the school year. This is what I can afford, my dear," I added with a shaky smile, thinking about the money problems that had filled my mind with earlier worries.

To my surprise, a serious look crossed Lance's face. "Hey, I don't care. I actually like being here...no bodyguards...no snotty waiters--" Just then a waitress came over to our table. I stifled a laugh as I realized that she was the exact type you didn't want to get as a waitress. Hair falling out of her ponytail. Dirty apron. A look on her face that clearly said that she would rather be anywhere but here. All she needed was a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and she would have been a perfect stereotypical waitress.

"What can I get you gentlemen tonight?" she asked before she cleared her froggy sounding throat. Lance and I exchanged amused glances, before we ordered our food: a turkey sandwich for him, while I would finally have my hamburger. The waitress jotted down our order and walked off, leaving Lance and I alone once more. He cleared his throat nervously as his eyes met mine. And I knew by the look on his face, that he was about to bring up the money problem once more. And I was right.

"Look, Stephen.." Lance began. "I noticed how uncomfortable you got at dinner...when we talked about money and stuff," Lance looked very uncomfortable talking about this. He almost looked as though he would have rather be shot than speak about this subject.

"You noticed," I said wisely, trying to make a joke out of it. I wanted him to feel more comfortable.

"How could I not?" he asked simply, giving me a gentle smile as he turned to stare out the cloudy window. "You looked as though you wanted to fall through the floor when we started talking about careers."

"I did," I admitted as my fingers nervously began fiddling around with the silverware in front of me. "It's just that..." I took a deep breath. "The three of you had something in common--you were all into music. You and Justin are in `N Sync. Harris is a singer...he has money. You and Justin have money. Where does that leave me? It leaves me as the poor, starving artist" I said logically, answering my own question. Lance stared at me as though I was crazy.

"How the hell did you come up with that one?" he asked, scratching his head to convey his confusion.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know...it just made perfect sense to me when I thought of it...you know how I am," I said feeling a little embarrassed by my thoughts. "I get an idea and I run with it."

"Stephen...helloooo," he said quietly, snapping his fingers in front of my eyes. "Did we start going out because you spent an obscene amount of money on me? Or because you looked like you were made out of money? If I'm not mistaken, the first place you took me was to somewhere that was free." Lance grinned at me. "Not that I'm complaining, because I loved it, but I'm trying to prove a point here. If all I cared about was money, would I have even looked twice at you?"

"I don't know. Maybe if you would have looked at my ass first you would have," I said mischievously, causing Lance to groan and blush at the same time. It was a cute sight to see.

"Stephen, I don't care about money when it comes to you...you're perfect the way you are," Lance said softly, reaching over and briefly touching my fingers with his. "Please don't change." My heart melted right there as I stared into those green eyes that could render me speechless. I didn't know what to say because as so many times before, Lance's words had struck me into a state of silence. So thank God for our waitress who came over and slapped down our orders on the table in front of us.

"Here you go, guys," she said as she placed our check face down on the table. "Enjoy your meal." Without another word, she turned around and walked away from us, out the door, where Lance and I watched her have a cigarette break through the smeary window. There was the cigarette, I thought as a sudden wave of nausea came over me.

"Yum," I said, as I turned back to my hamburger and fries. "Can't wait to eat this."

"Maybe I'll find a free pack of cigarettes in here," Lance quipped as he carefully poked through the layers of his sandwich. "Damn," he said, upon finding nothing. "And I thought I was so close!" We laughed at his joke and then began to eat. And let me tell you, the meal was much better than the one we had hours ago.

After our late dinner, Lance and I left the diner, destination nowhere. We wound up strolling down the street, which eventually led us to a small, deserted beach which had been closed off with shoddy fencing. The sign on the fence read, "Open - 9 A.M. to 8 P.M", which we blatantly ignored as we slipped through a large gap where the fence should have been locked together.

Lance and I walked up and down the moonlit beach, not saying a word. Not that there was nothing to say, it's just that sometimes, no words are needed. We took off our shoes and let our footprints leave trails behind us as we strolled leisurely through the warm sand, sometimes talking up a storm and sometimes not saying a thing. The silence that lulled between us wasn't the uncomfortable kind of silence. Instead it was the good kind, the kind where you know that the other person is thinking about you and you're thinking about that person. It was the kind of silence that I welcomed with open arms and longed for when Lance and I were together...just being with him, not saying a word...that was good enough for me.

"You know what?" I asked Lance, as I turned to face the ocean. I watched the waves crash into each other, before Lance answered me.

"What?"

"I wish I had a sketch pad with me. This is a beautiful sight to see...I wish I lived here all the time," I said sadly. Lance stared at me for a moment, and I could tell that he was thinking. However, he didn't say a word, and instead reached up and pulled my face to his for a kiss.

"I like the fact that you're always thinking," he sighed against against my lips. His breath against my mouth made me shiver, despite the warm, humidity filled air that surrounded us. "And I like how creative you are." Another kiss and I closed my eyes, taking in the feel of his mouth against mine. We parted and resumed our stroll on the sand.

Since we were alone, Lance took my hand in his as we walked. It was a wonderful gesture, I thought as I leaned my head against his shoulder. I had never been so comfortable with anyone in my entire life, and that amazed me. It was the little things with that never ceased to amaze me...I just hoped that there would be more moments like this ahead for us in the future. I let out a sigh of happiness as Lance stopped in his tracks once more. He dropped my hand and then slowly brought his hands up to my face. Cupping it in his hands, Lance stared into my eyes once more.

"I love you...I don't know why," Lance laughed before gently kissing me again. When we parted, I gave him a smile and then, as much as I was trying to fight it, I let out a yawn.

"Oh thanks a lot," Lance said, hurt showing on his face. "Am I'm boring you? Or was the kiss that bad?"

"Let me think about it," I laughed as I leaned in and placed another much more passionate kiss on Lance's soft lips. "It was actually quite good, but I'm extremely tired, sweetie."

"Oh, so you want to go to bed?" Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. "I like your thinking." I let out a groan at his comment as Lance and I headed back to the parted fence, and slipped back through the narrow opening. We walked back onto the boulevard, back among the people, the bright lights and noisy traffic. I felt like we had entered a different world, as Lance hailed a taxi for us and directed the driver back to our hotel. Feeling safe in the darkness of the taxi's backseat, I held onto Lance's hand for the duration of the ride. Upon my gesture, his full lips turned up into a smile while his fingers began to stoke my palm, nearly driving me batty with desire. And he knew it.

The taxi finally pulled up to the hotel, and Lance and I got out of the automobile and headed into the building. I felt like I was cloud nine and I could barely wait to get to our room. Yes, it was late and I was tired, but I also wanted to snuggle up to the man next to me. As we walked into the lobby, my eyes fell on a troubled person sitting in the corner who was nervously reading a wrinkled piece of paper. It took my tired eyes a few seconds to realize that the troubled person was Josh.

"Hey, look" I said to Lance, who by that time had also noticed his bandmate sitting in the corner of the empty hotel lobby. Josh looked up and sprang out of his seat once he noticed Lance and I walking through the rotating doors. He ran over to us, his hand still desperately clutching the paper.

"God, Scoop, I've been trying to call you for the past fifteen minutes? Is your phone turned off or something?" Josh asked him angrily. Lance reached into his pocket and pulled his cell phone out.

"Whoops, yeah," Lance said, cringing. "Sorry about that man."

"Never mind that," Josh said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. His anger turned back to its original state of worry. "You guys, I've got something to tell you." Josh's voice was cold, his eyes were empty and for some reason, my blood turned cold.

"What?" I frantically asked him. Time seemed to creep by as if we were in slow motion. This was not good news, the voice in my head whispered. Josh looked straight at me and thrust the wrinkled paper he had been clutching into my hands.

"It's Cynthia," he said in a near whisper, as a tear fell down his chiseled face. "She's left for home."

Well, well, well--do you really think I'm getting rid of Cynthia that easily? Come on, give me more credit than that :) But if I rambled on any longer, I was afraid people might start falling asleep...but the new part will be out soon (in the next week or so).

**la la la...I haven't done this, but I thought you'd might like to know what I'm reading, here we go:

-Remembering Petticoat Lane -Millennium Love -We Admitted it -Because I Love You -Crying Like a Church on Monday -Superman Can't Fly -all of Nsync Grrls stories, "Summer Storm", "The Haircut" etc. -N Sync Saga -and a ton more that I probably haven't mentioned due to the fact that I'm horrible at remembering titles of stories and I'll kick myself in the butt for it...I read a lot of this stuff and these were the only ones I pulled off the top of my head.

Plus, a certain someone that I know is going to post a wonderful story soon. It's called "The Wilted Rose" by DeakyMaster...so here's a teaser: "It is a symbol of courage. You had to overcome your fears to perform tonight, and I'm proud of you for it. You had to give up any hope of a normal life to pursue your dreams and to help us pursue ours. I'm truly honored to call you my friend." Isn't that great?

I'll shut up now and stop forcing my opinion on everyone. Remember, any feedback is welcomed with open arms (hint, hint!) at sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com. I'd like if people would tell me what they think so far. Thanks for reading...love Gabriella.