My Surprise Romance

Hi everyone!

This is the next installment in my story and to make it brief and short, you might not like me much after this chapter, but I don't care because it's only fiction :) If you haven't read between the lines, everything in the previous chapters has been leading up to this chapter.

Okay, I just want to send a short thank you to everyone who's written me in the last few days....you all are incredible, wonderful people who I love and adore. My fingers are cramping from all the typing I have done, so I'm not putting in my usual separate thanks. Basically, I think those of you know whom I'm talking about...you're all special and I love each and everyone of you :) You've listened to me rant, scream and bitch over nothing and everything. I love you all--big kiss here muah!

Also, more shameless self-promoting hussiness here: please visit my website. Those of you who have been charmed and/or entertained by it know that I update my "rantings" often, so please (pretty please???) go check it out....you'll be amused, I promise!

http://sweetheart.homepage.com

DISCLAIMER: Do you honestly think that If I knew `N Sync, I'd be writing about them? Get a clue--not 18 or 21, bye...don't like m/m relationships, then go...get lost! And I don't know anything about Lance Bass's sexuality..I wish I did though :)

Author's note: This chapter is different that the others I've written, mainly because it all leads up to a major point in the story. This chapter is broken down into small scenes and I can only describe the one sentence breaks this way: If you watch Frasier, then you know what I'm talking about--the things in "...//..." mean that those are to be read like title cards into the next scene...

My Surprise Romance

The Better to Dream of You

Chapter 35--"To Say Goodbye is to Die a Little"

...I had too much to drink...*

There was a good reason I didn't drink a lot. And certainly not in excess. And as I woke up, I knew exactly why I hadn't indulged in binge drinking since my high school days: the hangover. I felt like shit. In fact, as I lay in bed that morning, I could have bet that shit felt better than I did at that moment. My mouth felt like it was coated with some dry powder and my head...there had to be little men in there, jackhammering parts of my brain away. I could barely move my limbs...

As I rolled myself over in order for my body to feel a different part of the bed, I accidentally rolled right on top of Lance. Now on other, more sober mornings, this might have been a nice wake up call for both of us. But this morning?

"Stephen...oh God, please get off of me before I puke all over the place," Lance groaned once he felt my body pressed against his. This, I thought, with a nary smile, was a first. I looked at Lance right before I rolled off of him. He was the exact color of that school paste that kindergarten children snack on between alphabet and number lessons. And his beautiful green eyes were bloodshot and bleary. My smile quickly changed to one of nausea as I rolled myself right off the bed and landed on the thick carpet with a `thud'.

"Are you okay?" I heard Lance call from his place on the bed, not bothering to look at me.

"I'm fine," I said as I flipped myself over onto my stomach, somehow skittered myself 360 degrees, crawled to the toilet, and promptly threw up. I know, I know..it's not a pretty picture to imagine but it happened. And I didn't enjoy it one bit.

As I held on to the toilet for dear life, I heard the sound of Lance getting off the bed, and his footsteps pad across the carpet and into the bathroom. I looked up at him, as he managed to steady himself against the doorframe. He gave me a shaky smile as he leaned down next to me.

"You okay?" he asked softly, brushing the damp hair away from my forehead. He stared into my eyes tenderly, despite the fact that he looked like he was going to kneel over and die any second himself.

"Fine," I managed to answer, before another wave of nausea overcame me and I turned back to the toilet for the second time that morning. And then after that round was over, I felt a hundred percent better. Well, not a hundred, but at least sixty to seventy percent better....

I managed to stand myself up and flush the toilet as I turned back to Lance.

"Morning," I said weakly. I walked over to the sink and turned on the cold water, first splashing my face to cool myself off and then began to brush my teeth so I could get rid of that horrible taste in my mouth. When I finished that up, I turned myself back around and saw that Lance was still watching me.

"What?" I asked him as my eyes fell to the bracelet that was still encircled around his wrist. "You know, you can take that off," I said, making my voice sound light, despite the fact that my head felt like a lead weight.

"Maybe I don't wanna," he said with a smile on his face, even though he felt as terrible as I did that morning. "Maybe I wanna keep it on forever." He leaned over to me and gave me a brief kiss on the lips. I closed my eyes once his lips touched mine and instantly I thought of the song that he had sang to me last night.

"Hey, Lance...do you remember singing that song to me last night?" I asked him suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at him. Maybe he was too drunk to have known what was going on, I thought as we walked back to the bed. I fell back on it, needing to feel some support underneath me.

"Yes," he said a bit sharply and I was a bit taken aback by his tone of voice. "I certainly do remember singing it to you Stephen. Just because I had a few beers in me, doesn't mean that I lose my memory, you know." He fell on the bed next to me, and we lay there, side by side like two sardines in a can. I wasn't sure what to say to him. After we had gotten back from the bar last night, we had just fallen into bed...nothing sexual had happened because we were just too drunk to do anything.

"It was beautiful," I said. I was sure I had said those words to him last night, but then maybe I hadn't. All I remembered was that kiss in the rain...

And as though Lance knew what I was feeling, he shifted over to me and lay his head on top of my chest. I wrapped an arm around him, and we just lay there for God only knows how long. Silence descended upon us and well...I liked it. Even after all the good times we had shared together, for some reason, that single moment in time was my favorite memory of Lance and I together...

...you have to say goodbye sometime...

Well this was it...Goodbye to Los Angeles...I had never even thought I was going to go anywhere during my summer vacation and here I was ready to leave L.A., ready to head off to another city. I smiled sadly as we all gathered in the hallway to say goodbye to Britney. Surprisingly enough, I would really miss her...

"I'm going to miss y'all so much!" she exclaimed sentimentally as she wrapped her arms around each of us. She stopped and gave me a pretty smile before she hugged me.

"And you..." Britney shook her head at me. "Lordy, I'm so glad I met you Stephen...you're one of the nicest people I've met," she said before tightly wrapping her arms around my waist. "Good luck in everything...your art...you know, everything," she added mischievously as she eyed Lance, who was across the room, counting his suitcases. I rolled my eyes good naturedly at the teen pop star.

"Thanks..I think I'll need it," I laughed as I adjusted the strap of my shoulder bag. "It was good to meet you Britney..good luck with your tour and the album and all that stuff." She gave me a smile and then handed me a small scrap of paper.

"Look, this is my cell phone number," she said, running a perfectly manicured fingernail over the numbers that she had scribbled on the paper. "Please don't give it out or anything...but I would like to keep in touch with you. After all, we both seem to take things a little bit too seriously," she said and we both laughed, thinking of the Justin/Harris fiasco that had seemed so tragic at the time, but now, seemed so trivial.

"Thanks," I said, folding the paper up and sticking it in my wallet. Would I ever call her? I don't know. Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn't. I've never been good with girls...for obvious reasons, I thought as I hugged Britney once more. When we parted, she gave me one last grin and then moved on to bid her adieu to Cynthia.

As I stood there, making sure that I had everything, my mind suddenly flashed to something else.

"Lance!" I called out to my boyfriend who was checking the zippers on his luggage. He looked up at me.

"What?"

"Do you have your neck--" Before the word was out of my mouth, he turned to me and tugged on the silver cross that hung around his neck and grinned. And then he lifted up his arm and shook his wrist at me, showing me the ID bracelet. I laughed at his actions and then felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Harris standing there.

"Well, I thought I should say goodbye..after all, we did have a pretty impersonal hello, if you remember," he recalled. I groaned at the thought, but still couldn't help smiling at how good everything had worked out.

"True," I agreed. "Well, good luck to you, Harris..in your singing and stuff," I told him, as I reached out and shook his hand. He gave me a grin.

"Good luck to you Stephen. I hope everything goes well in your painting..and hey, maybe when I'm really famous, I'll have my people contact you to do some artwork for one of my albums," he said, sounding a bit cocky. Yet, he grinned to take the edge off his voice and I couldn't help but hoping that he would become famous. Not because I wanted to do any artwork for him, but because Harris was truly a good person.

"Sounds good," I said with a laugh, as we gave each other a parting wave. He walked over to Cynthia, who to my surprise, was still talking rather enthustically with Britney. And to think my cousin hated her too. I turned around, only to see Lance standing directly behind me. Nearly scared the crap out of me, I thought as I nearly let out a yelp.

"Jesus! Just climb on my shoulders, why don't you?" I joked as Lance and I began to head towards the elevators together.

"Ooh, you wanna give me a piggyback ride?" Lance asked zealously, looking as though he was about to drop the bags in his hands at the thought. I just shook my head in mock frustration at him.

"Silly boy," I sighed, as I pushed the down button for the service elevator. Then I looked at him with a devious smile on my face. "Not in front of everyone." He was about to come back with a retort, when suddenly Lance and I heard a shrill, ear piercing shriek coming from behind us causing us to turn around to see what all the commotion was.

Britney was standing there in the middle of the hallway, water dripping from her hair, onto and onto her shoulders, her painted mouth agape with shock. Judging from the bucket that dangled from his hand, Chris had dumped water over the pop diva's head. A look of astonishment appeared on Britney's face as Chris and Joey high fived each other and whooped.

"That's revenge for taking those pictures of us!" Chris shouted as the ding of the elevator sounded, signaling that it had arrived on out floor. The doors opened and he jumped into it, while Britney ran after him at full speed. He pressed the `close doors' button rapidly and just as the doors were about to close, Chris lifted up a camera that he had been hiding in his pocket and snapped it at her.

"Now I got a picture of you!" he screamed as the doors closed. "Bye-bye Britney! You know I love ya like a sister!" We heard him yell as the elevator began its decent down to the ground floor. Britney stood there for a second, her fists clenched at her sides. Yet, I saw a trace of a smile begin to appear on her lips. She spun around realizing that the other person responsible for this prank was still on the floor. Joey.

"Oh shit," Joey said, his face draining of color as Britney ran towards him at full speed. He began to back up slowly, but he was no match for her, as she jumped on his back and began to pound on him with her fists.

"You asshole jerk! Idiot!" Britney screamed, trying not to laugh, despite being soaking wet while the remaining people left on the floor laughed at the scene in front of him. Just then another elevator came up, and since we were the only ones paying attention to it, Lance and I slipped onto that one, leaving the ruckus behind us. I looked at Lance, whose lips had twisted into a devilish grin once he realized that we were on an elevator. Alone. Dropping his suitcases, Lance leaned over and cupped my face in his hands.

"I don't know what it is about these things," he murmured against my lips before kissing me passionately. When we parted, Lance just grinned shyly at me and picked up his suitcases. I stood there, breathless by his actions as the elevator let out a `ding' and we reached the ground floor, ready to head off to our next destination....

...Did you never call? I waited for your call...**

Natalie. I never stopped thinking about my little sister. So once we reached the next city, and checked into a new hotel, I picked up the phone and dialed the number of my Aunt and Uncle's house that would let me reach her. A few rings passed through the telephone lines and then I heard someone pick up.

"Hello?" My heart leapt into my stomach as I heard my sister's thin, sweet voice float through the telephone receiver.

"Natalie? Is that you?" I asked, even though I knew it was her. A big smile appeared on my face as I heard her excited shriek.

"Stephen! I miss you so much!" she exclaimed happily. "Is the tour almost over? Are you coming to Wisconsin to take me back home? How is it hanging around `N Sync all the time? And did you ask Joey if he would go out with me?" Natalie's rapid fire questions brought a smile to my face as I picked up the telephone and began to walk around the room with it in my hand.

"Yes, honey, the tour is almost over...but I'm not sure about going home, Natalie," I told her, trying to keep my voice light. Home. God, that was one thing I had convientley forgotten about. Who wanted to think about the drudgery of home when I was having the time of my life on tour with the guys? "Well, have to see what your mom says, okay?"

"Okay...you know Stephen," Natalie's voice dropped to a whisper, as though someone was around her and she didn't want them to hear. "Mom's been acting strange lately...before she shipped me off to Aunt Florence and Uncle George's house."

"Really?" I asked, my concern growing in considerable numbers. "How so, Nat?" She paused before answering me and I could see her face scrunched up in thought, the tip of her tongue pressed between her teeth.

"She's taking a lot of medication." Those words cut through me like a knife. Medication? I thought in disbelief. What was my mother doing to herself?

"What kinds of medication, Natalie?" I asked her, trying not to sound too panicky. "For headaches, like aspirin or Tylenols?"

"No, not those...the pills she was taking were from the doctor...something with a P...and another one that started with an X...but I can't remember them. Sorry, Stephen," Natalie said apologetically, like she felt she had failed me or something.

"Don't worry, Natalie. As long as you're okay, I don't care. How are Aunt Florence and Uncle George treating you?" I asked, as Lance entered the room with a plate of food. He looked curiously at the phone in my hand, but smiled when I mouthed the word, "Natalie" at him. I sat back on the bed, and Lance followed suit.

"Um, they're okay...they make me go to bed early, but otherwise, they're much better than mom's been lately." I could hear Natalie smile. "They took me to the movies and to the amusement park..I'm having a blast, Stephen. I just wish you were here..and Angela and Beth too. Then I'd be really happy." I closed my eyes at her words, feeling incredibly guilty. Here we were thousands upon thousand of miles apart and leave it to my baby sister to give me a guilt trip like she right next to me. Suddenly, one of my brilliant ideas popped into my mind.

"Hey, Nat..you know if I could be there, I would...but can I make it up to you?" I asked, looking at Lance, who was stuffing his face with the food from the platter. He looked at me questioningly in mid-chew as I held the receiver out to him, a grin on my face. Lance swallowed his food in one gulp and pointed at his chest.

"You want me to talk to her?" he whispered in surprise. I nodded at him, pleading at him with my eyes. A grin appeared on his face as he took the phone from me and held it up to his ear.

"Is this Miss Natalie Peterson?" Lance asked politely, suddenly pulling it away from his ear as the resounding shriek that came from the earpiece could probably be heard five miles away. He looked back at me, a grin on his face at my sister's reaction.

"I think she knows who I am," he whispered to me as he placed his hand over the mouthpiece. He placed the phone back to his ear and continued to talk to my sister for a couple of minutes, grinning like a goofy kid throughout the entire conversation. Finally, there was a lull and Lance gently closed it up as he saw an expectant look on my face. I really wanted to hear my sister's voice again.

"Okay, Natalie...I think your brother wants to talk to you again, okay? Okay? Yes...I love you too Natalie," Lance said with a gentle laugh as he gave me an amused look. "Okay, honey...here's your brother." He handed the phone back to me, trying to hold back his laughter.

"Hey Natalie..." I said, as she continued to shriek at me.

"I cannot believe that I just talked to Lance Bass! Like a normal person!" she squealed in delight. "You're so lucky Stephen! I just wish I was old enough to date him..the girl he's dating has to be the luckiest girl in the world," Natalie sighed. I felt my face turn red at her remark, and cleared my throat.

"Yeah, I guess..." I said lamely. "Well, sweetie...I have to get going, okay?"

"Oh, okay," she said with another sigh. I shook my head at my sisters ability to go from ecstatic to depressed in a matter of seconds. "You'll call me again, right Stephen? Because it seems like you never call me. I wait for you to call me." My heart broke at my sister's simple, yet sad words. Poor kid, I thought, tossed around from home to home..it wasn't right at all.

"I promise you I'll call you again, Natalie," I said, feeling my heart heavy with emotion. "I promise you, honey. Okay?"

"Okay, Stephen. I love you."

"I love you too, Natalie. Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Stephen." Click. I looked over at Lance, who had noticed the change in my demeanor right away. He gave me a soft smile as I hung the phone up and placed it back on the nightstand.

"You okay?" Lance asked as I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. I was okay, but was my sister? God, the shit she was going to have to deal with when she grew older, I thought sadly. I looked up at Lance, who was sitting there, staring at me with those green eyes that I had grown to love and place full trust in.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I'm okay, but I hope Natalie will be," I worried out loud as I looked at my lap. When I looked back up at Lance, he was staring at me with full attention. "By the way, thank you for talking to her."

"No problem," Lance smiled. "I like your sister. She's a sweetheart...she told me that she loves me by the way. Hope you're not the jealous type." We laughed.

"And she said that, `the girl you're dating, has to be the luckiest girl in the world.'" We laughed at the remark, and then grew silent, lost in our thoughts. There seemed to be so much that we couldn't control, but yet in a sick way, we had caused all these problems and worries ourselves...did Lance and I have to be attracted to each other? Did we have to fall in love? And did my mom have to be such a ignorant bitch? All of these questions...they were driving me insane. And until I would find an answer, I wouldn't be happy.

...All that matters is what makes you happy...***

As morning dawned upon us and as I lay in Lance's arms, there was a fierce pounding on our suite door. My eyes flew open as the pounding grew more frequent and rapid, until it sounded like the U.S. Army was ready to infiltrate the room. The pictures on the wall began to rattle as the person continued to pound away...

"What the fuck?" Lance sleepily whispered in my ear, as he began to wake up. "I'll bet you ten bucks that it's Cynthia." I let out a groan at the thought, as Lance reluctantly let go of me. Cold air hit my warm skin and I shivered in the night air as I pulled my boxer shorts off the floor and slipped them on. I turned back around to see Lance grinning at me. I just shook my head as I walked over to the door. I hesitated before opening it up to whatever new problems lurked behind it.

As Lance had predicted, Cynthia was standing there, tears streaming down her face. I noticed that my cousin was wearing one of Josh's t-shirts as she fell into my arms. Thankfully, I caught her just in time, right before she hit the ground. I looked over at Lance, whose face had taken on a look of panicky concern at Cynthia's limp frame in my arms.

"What's wrong?" he asked, jumping out of the bed and rushing over to us. I looked at him critically.

"Lance. Shorts," I reminded him as he gave me a sheepish grin and turned around to find them. I looked down at Cynthia who was crying hysterically. She looked up at me with those big violet eyes of hers as tears continued to stream down her pale cheeks, onto the gray fabric of the t-shirt, darkening the material.

"Stevie...I want to go home," she wailed as she wrapped her arms around my neck. "I want to go home so much." I looked at my cousin carefully. She wasn't drunk. She didn't look upset. And I don't think she was high (I know that unlike most people, Cynthia cries like a manic when ever she smokes pot. That's why she avoids it at all costs).

"Cynthia, what's wrong?" I asked her quietly as I gently cradled her in my arms, just like she had done for me so many times before. She buried her face in my bare chest and continued to just wail. I looked up at Lance who had reappeared next to me, boxers in place.

"Is she okay?" he whispered, running his fingertips down her forearm. "I've never seen her cry so hard before."

"I have," I said, as I softly stroked her blonde hair. "When she was thirteen...and I visited her at summer camp. She's homesick," I told Lance simply. His green eyes widened in surprise at my words.

"Cynthia..gets homesick?" Lance asked in amazement. "She doesn't seem the type to get homesick." I nodded as my cousin's tears began to subside, and she looked up at Lance and I.

"What? Lancey-poo here doesn't think I have emotions?" Cynthia asked harshly, as she wiped the tears away from her face and jabbed Lance in the chest. He winced at the force she had used as Cynthia continued ranting. "Well , I do..and believe me, it's not something that I'm very proud of. Twenty years old and I still get homesick! Only Stevie knows that..." Just then a door down the hallway opened up and Josh poked his head out the door. When he saw his girlfriend, crying in my arms, he rushed over.

"What happened to her?" he asked, as he came to my cousin's side. "Cynthia, what's wrong. I woke up and you were gone..." Josh took her from my arms and held her tightly, looking at Lance and I in concern. We looked at each other. If Cynthia wanted to tell Josh what her problem was, that was entirely up to her.

"Josh, I want to go home," Cynthia said weakly, as though she really didn't want to say the words. I knew she didn't want to leave the tour, especially after hearing about the huge blowout that was planned on the night of the last concert. But I also knew that my cousin was miserable--it was evident on her face.

"Josh, I want to go home," Cynthia repeated. "I'm homesick." Josh's eyes widened at her remark.

"You're homesick?" he asked her in surprise. "Is that why you've been quiet all night?" Cynthia nodded and as she did this, something about her demeanor reminded that of a child's. Bitten lower lip, downcast eyes, sad expression. I felt terrible for her, as she wrapped her arms around Josh's neck and began to cry once more. Josh looked at us helplessly.

"I'll get her a flight back home as soon as possible," he whispered quietly as he nudged Cynthia gently. "Come on sweetie, let's go back to the room and I'll book you a flight home ASAP, okay?" I saw my cousin nod as Josh led her back to his room, giving Lance and I a worried look. We stood there until we heard the soft `click' of their door.

"Weird," Lance breathed as we walked back into our room. "That cousin of yours is really unpredictable." That wouldn't be the last thing that would be unpredictable either...

"We are all doomed, but some of us are more doomed than others"

--Robyn Hitchcock

When I woke up that morning, I automatically felt something different, and then it hit me: today was the last day of the tour. The last day, I thought as my eyelids opened up and allowed my eyes to see the man lying next to me. Lance. The entire reason why my life now consisted of city-to-city travel, late nights hanging out at clubs, followed by bleary eyed breakfasts and even more hectic traveling. But it was Lance who didn't let me lose my mind...he had become the rock that weighted me down, let me smile and let me let my hair down :) I loved him and I never wanted him to get hurt. Never.

Maybe that's why I did what I did.

Oh, I'm ahead of myself. Maybe I should start at the beginning...

We had waken up, and like every morning that we woke up to, we kissed each other, goofed around in bed and then eventually, got our lazy butts up, and into the shower, dressed, blah, blah, blah. That's not interesting. We've done it all the time, everyday and there was nothing different about it. The only difference was that everyone was talking about the huge after concert party that was planned for that night. Even I was excited about it. It just seemed the perfect way to end these crazy few weeks that we had all spent together.

Once Lance and I retreated back to our room, he couldn't sit still. He reminded me of a little puppy dog that had to go outside, as he bounced around on the bed and generally wouldn't shut up.

"Stephen, can you imagine what the rest of the summer is going to be like? You're gonna come down to my new house in Florida and you're going to stay there with me for the rest of the summer," Lance said excitedly, falling on the bed next to me. "And I can just tell that you're going to work things out with your mom when you get home. I just know it," he said, as he took my hand in his and kissed it, causing me to blush.

"You really think?" I asked, hopeful. Maybe he was right. Maybe my mom and I could sit down, have a good-heart-to-heart..maybe. There was always that possibility, and after seeing these last few weeks pass by me, there was nothing that couldn't happen.

"I do," Lance said, kissing the tip of my nose. "I also think that this party tonight is gonna rock. I can't wait. So what if we all wake up with huge hangovers tomorrow? It's not like we have a show to do!" Lance laughed at this and then looked at me. "And hey, as long as I'm with you, I don't care. I'm just happy that the tour is finally over and that were finally gonna get some real down time together." I grinned at the idea of Lance and I finally being alone, and couldn't help leaning over to kiss him.

Once we parted, Lance looked down at his watch and then groaned. "Another interview to do...another rehearsal...you know, the last day of the tour and they wanna work us to the bone. I almost think that our managers don't want us to enjoy the party tonight..they want to work us all to death, so that all we want to do is sleep." Lance grinned. "Well, I have other plans for tonight," he said, raising his eyebrows mischievously at me. "Good ones."

"I think I know what you mean by that," I said dryly as Lance pushed me down on the bed.

"You're perceptive, Stephen. I like that," Lance murmured against my lips, before kissing me once more. And just as his hand began to run up my thigh, a knock at the door broke us apart.

"Damnit," Lance swore as he sat up. "Oh, well..there'll be plenty of time for this later," he grinned at me, before calling out, "Who is it?"

"Chris," the voice called out from behind the door. "Scoop, the limo for the interview is leaving in a few seconds, so you better finish up what--or who--you're doing and get down there!"

"Yes sir!" Lance called out, with a sigh. He stood up and then looked back down at me, where I was still lying on the bed. "You wanna come along with us?"

I shook my head. "Nah...Lance, to be honest with you, the idea of listening to you and the rest of the guys answering questions is kinda...well," I tried to find the right word, so that I wouldn't offend him. Lance held up his hands.

"Boring?" I laughed.

"Yeah, sorry to tell you the truth, but yeah...it is," I admitted, my face turning red.

"Don't worry about it--you're right. It is boring. Especially when you have to keep saying the same answers over and over." He paused and smiled at me. "And over and over and over--"

"Alright!" I yelled, kicking him with my foot. "Get out of here and go to your adoring public. Before you bore me to sleep!" Lance leaned down, a devilish look on his face as he placed his mouth over mine.

"So I'm boring, huh? Someone's gonna get a spanking later on for that," Lance said slyly, before kissing me once more.

"Ooh, well if that's the case, then you're boring me beyond belief," I said, my eyes growing enthusiastic at Lance's promise. We kissed once more before Lance headed for the door. Just as he was about to leave, he turned to me.

"Love you," he said simply, his eyes growing soft as he stared at me.

"Love you too," I called back, placing my fingertips to my lips. Lance just grinned and left, leaving me alone for the first time that day.

I lay on the bed for a few minutes, still tasting Lance's kiss on my lips. I let out a content sigh as I stared at the ceiling. The quiet was peaceful, lulling me to sleep...when I heard the sound of running footsteps pounding down the hallway, towards my room. They stopped in front of my door.

"Stephen? Are you in there? Stephen?" I opened my eyes up at the sudden noise.

"Yeah...who is it?" I called out as I pulled myself into a sitting position.

"It's Josh...Cynthia's on the phone.." I stood up, walking to the door and opening it up. He stood there in front of me, completely out-of-breath from his sprint.

"Aren't you supposed to be at an interview?" I asked him, as I stepped out into the hallway. Josh nodded.

"Yup..I'm always late though. I just wanted to talk to my girl before I left for the day. I really miss Cynthia...but you might want to see if something's wrong with her. She sounds a little weird to me, but then--" Josh shrugged. "It might just be the connection. Or it might just be Cynthia--you never know," he added with a laugh before continuing. "Oh well, the phone is in the room at the end of the hall..I'll talk to you later, Stephen!" Josh shouted out as he boarded an elevator.

"See ya!" I called back as I headed to the end room. There was the phone, off the hook on the table as I walked into it. I picked it up and placed it to my ear.

"Hello? Cynthia?"

"Stephen?" Stephen? Where the hell did that come from?

"Hey, no `Stevie'? What? You're back in Wisconsin and you think you're too good to call me Stevie?" I teased my cousin. No laughter, like I had expected. I heard her take a deep, nervous breath. "Cynthia, what's wrong?" I said frantically.

"Stephen...sit down," she said, and I could tell that she was trying not to cry. "Please, sit down." Oh my God. The first thought that flew into my head was Natalie. Something had happened to Natalie.

"Is Natalie okay?" I shouted into the receiver, imagining the absolute worst case scenario possible. "Is she alright? She's not hurt...or sick..."

"Natalie's fine! Stop screaming at me!" Cynthia roared back. "Stephen, it's your mother! For God's sake, just shut up and listen to me."

"My mom?" I said, feeling my hands become cold and clammy. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I started to shake. My mom? `What now?' I thought with disdain. "What's her problem now?"

"Stephen...she's dead."

Dead? I didn't hear right. Maybe the phone connection was bad, as Josh had said earlier. I shook my head, not believing what I had just heard.

"Cynthia, stop it. That's not funny," I said shakily. "Stop it." I heard her begin to cry, not able to hold her tears back any longer.

"No, Stephen..I wish I was. She's dead Stephen...mom and dad wanted me to call you and tell you...she killed herself..." I fell into the chair that was next to me, feeling as cold as ice. I was shaking terribly. My throat was dry. And for a second, I thought I was dreaming. I pinched myself. It hurt like hell.

"How did she..." I let my voice trail off, not wanting to say the words, because that way they would seem more true. I heard Cynthia sob for a few more seconds before getting the next words out.

"She didn't show up for work..and when they called her house, no one answered the phone. So one of her co-workers went over....knocked down the door and they found her in the bathroom....she...she.." I heard Cynthia gasp. "She slit her wrists, Stephen..."

I sat there in the chair, feeling like a statue. Not able to move, breathe or think. She was dead. My mother was dead. I was an orphan. Natalie was an orphan.

Natalie.

"How is Natalie?" I asked, my body and mind springing back to life as I thought about my sister. "Is she okay? Did you tell her?"

"My mom told her...Stephen, she's a wreck. She keeps asking for you," Cynthia said quietly. "I didn't want to call you, because I know it's the last night of the tour--"

"Fuck the tour," I spat out, jumping up from the seat. "I'm booking the next flight out to Wisconsin--"

"No, book it to your home, Stephen. We're all flying out in an hour or so to your house...we have to go and make the funeral plans...oh, Stephen," Cynthia said, breaking down once more.

"It's okay, Cynthia...I'll be home as soon as I can get there. Tell Natalie I love her and Cynth--"

"What?"

"I love you too."

"I know, I love you too Stephen. Hurry home." I hung up the phone and it suddenly crossed my mind how important it was to tell each other that we loved each other. Life was frail. It could end at any second. Thank you mother for that last gift before you exited the Earth forever.

Like a zombie, I walked out of the room and back down to the room that Lance and I shared.

Lance.

I had completely forgotten about him. An image of his excited face filled my mind, as I walked into the room. He was so excited about the party tonight. I couldn't ruin it for him..I just couldn't...he had to be happy. This was his life and I wasn't about to ruin it for him by dragging him into one of my crises. I couldn't...what was I going to do. And the answer came to me just light, like a sudden flash of lightening.

I had to break up with him. That was the only logical answer.

...I feel great. I lied to save your feelings...****

I was pacing back and forth, wringing my hands. I had scheduled a 7 p.m. flight to my house in New York. It was the earliest one I could get.

And the guys weren't back yet. They were still at their all day interview and rehearsal excursion, and I wished they would get back as soon as possible. I just wanted to break up with Lance and get it over with.

Was I really doing the right thing? I didn't want to break up with him. That was the last thing on Earth I wanted to do. I loved him so much, my chest hurt at the idea of severing any ties with him. It would hurt, I thought, it would hurt a lot. But I didn't want to wrap him up in my problems. I wanted to save him from all of the emotional crap that I would be soon going through. I wanted him to enjoy his life and not be dragged down by my problems. Lance had always protected me in the times I needed it, and I wanted to do the same for him.

I began to cry for the hundredth time that day. My mother...she was gone. Gone. I never had a chance to reconcile with her. I never had a chance to talk to her again. The last image of her I had was one of her disowning me. She disowned me...

The tears flowed down my face. Did she really mean that? Or had she done that in the heat of the moment? I'd never know...

My head jerked up at the sound of voices coming down the hall. It was the guys. I could clearly make them out--they were talking about the party that night. They were excited. They were happy. My lips formed a halfhearted smile as I thought about Lance's enthusiasm about tonight. I couldn't ruin it for him by telling him that my mother had killed herself. And if I knew Lance, he'd want to come home with me right away, post haste. He would skip out on the concert. I knew him..he had already left the tour once without any thought and he'd do it again.

Just then I heard the door open up. I was standing at the window and I wiped the tears away from my face. A pair of feet creeped into the room and then I felt Lance's arms encircle my waist and his lips gently press themselves against the nape of my neck. For the first time ever, a sense of dread filled my body, and not the usual giddy thrill that occurred whenever Lance kissed me.

"I'm back," he whispered in my ear. "Ready to run off to the auditorium for the show tonight, but I'm back. So...are you ready for that spanking, yet?" I could feel his warm breath against my neck as he waited for my answer. I had to break up with him sometime and Lance had just given me the perfect opening...maybe it was supposed to end this way...

"God, Lance is that all you think about?" I asked as angrily as I could, as I turned to face him. "Jesus Christ, can't we even have a conversation without you getting all hot and bothered?!" I felt my face turn red, as I watched the confusion flash across his face.

"Stephen, is everything okay?" He asked uncertainly, backing away from me. "Geez, I'm sorry, I was just joking around."

"That's all you do. You joke around and never take anything seriously," I spat out as I sat back on the bed. My hands were shaking again, but I managed to control them as I squeezed them into tight fists. Lance sat next to me and looked at me with a very worried expression on his beautiful face.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" he asked, sounding nervous.

"No," I said, looking at him like he was an idiot. "Maybe I'm just tired of being your plaything all the time." The words were harsh and even hurt my ears to hear them. I liked being his plaything. This wasn't the way I wanted to break up with him, but it was happening. My heart felt like it was falling to pieces.

"Plaything?" Lance said, looking taken aback by the word I had chosen. "Excuse me, Stephen, but I've never seen you say `no'. In fact, I can think of a couple of times when I wanted to tell you to stop, but I couldn't bring myself to."

"Oh, and now you tell me. Jesus, Lance...if that's the way you feel, maybe we need sometime apart." There I had said it. That was easy, I thought. And quick--very quick.

But the look on his face when I said those words. You would have thought I said his mother had died and not mine. Lance reached out for my hand, trying to remedy the situation that had just occurred between us, but being the asshole I was, I pulled away.

"I'm serious Lance," I said, my voice falling to a whisper. "I think we need sometime apart. I've been thinking about it all afternoon and I just don't feel right...." I looked at Lance. Big mistake. His eyes had grown glassy once I had made my proclamation.

"Stephen...please, what did I do wrong? What happened? Why?" he shook his head, not understanding why I was saying this. I didn't understand why I was saying this. All I knew is that Lance deserved someone better than me..someone who wasn't so fucked up. He deserved a good life ..and a better boyfriend than I could ever be....

"Just...Lance...I'm not happy," I lied, the words coming out of my mouth awkwardly. "I need to get out of this relationship...and I don't think it's right to keep you tied down with me."

Lance took a deep breath. "Can't we talk about this?" he pleaded. "Stephen, please. I never knew you were unhappy...is it my fault?" His eyes..those eyes that I had placed all my trust in..the ones that I woke up looking into every morning...they were hurting so badly. And it was my fault. I never wanted to hurt him this way...

"No, Lance, it's not. I just think it's better if I leave. Tonight."

"Stephen, please...tell me what happened between us. We were okay this morning before I left.." He was pulling at the last remaining threads of our relationship. He was trying to piece it all together and I kept snipping it apart. I didn't want to hurt him, but I was...

"Lance, I'm sorry, but I can't go stringing you along," I said flatly. My voice was coming out cold, antiseptic...I wanted to cry right there as I stared at my...boyfriend? Could I still call him that? "It's over between us..I guess," I took a deep breath, preparing myself for another lie. "I guess, it's been over for awhile and I never wanted to tell you. I just don't care about you anymore." There I had said it.

Lance stared at me for a few seconds, and his once glassy eyes turned hard. "Fine," he spat out. "Fine, if you wanna be an asshole and be that way, then fine. Good-bye Stephen. Thanks for nothing." I closed my eyes as he got off the bed. I heard his footsteps walk towards the door and then head back towards where I was sitting. My eyes were still closed as I was trying to hold back the tears that desperately wanted to fall from my eyes.

"And you wanna know something, Stephen?" I heard Lance ask me, his voice coming out harsh. I heard the rattle of metal as something heavy landed in my lap. "You can have your stupid bracelet back. And yes, I did feel like it labeled me as your boyfriend. I only wore it to be nice." And with that, he was gone. Out of my life. And I had never hurt so much.

...I'm not over you. I'm not over you. I'm not over you...****

The guys had already left for the auditorium shortly after Lance's exit from our room. I was surprised that he didn't call security on me to get me out of the room that we had once shared, but I didn't think he was like that. Instead, I pulled my already-packed suitcases from under the bed and opened one of them up. I placed the bracelet in between stacks of my shirts, and then poked around some more. My fingertips brushed against something and I pulled it out.

My God, I thought as I stared at the picture of Lance and I that Britney had taken. How the hell were we so happy then and now...I shook my head at the mess that we had become. How did I know that this would have happened? That I would break us up? That I would hurt so much?

I began to cry again. I wanted to tell Lance the truth so bad. That my mother had died. She was gone and I didn't know what to do anymore. But telling him would have dragged him into my problems and that was exactly what I didn't want. I threw the photo of us back into the suitcase and zipped it shut. Grabbing my bags, I took one last look at the room I was in and then walked out of it and into the hallway--and smack dab into Justin Timberlake.

"Jesus Christ!" I yelled as he ran into me at full impact, and nearly knocked me over. "Watch where you're going, will you?" After realizing who I was, Justin glared at me.

"Yeah and fuck you too, Stephen. We all know you used Lance just until you needed him," Justin said angrily. I looked at the curly headed singer in shock. Used him? Until I needed him? What was he talking about?"

"Come again?" I asked him, my voice rising with anger.

"Oh, come off it Stephen. You were using Lance because he's rich and famous and because the tour is ending, you don't need him anymore. Lance told us you were tired of the relationship...so just get off your high horse already." Lance told them? Well, a voice in my head spoke up, he probably wasn't all smiles when he met up with the guys, now was he?

"I was not using him, Justin!" I shouted. "I loved Lance...I love him still."

"Well, you have a funny way of showing it. If I'm mistaken, you don't love a person by breaking their heart." Justin shouted, as he made his way to his room. "Now if you'd get the fuck out of my sight, I have to get something from my room and get back to the limo..."

I was panicking. They thought I was a groupie..or something even worse. A band I had barely cared about when I had first met them...I fell in love with Lance Bass because I loved him. Not because he was in some teenybopper band. I didn't even know his name when I met him. I blindly reached out for Justin. I had to tell someone...

"Justin, please listen to me," I cried out, grabbing his elbow as he passed me by. Justin looked at me in surprise, the anger fading from his face as he saw my expression turn from harsh to somber.

"Stephen..are you okay?" he asked, looking concerned as I began to break down once more. My crying had turned to hysterical sobbing as I fell to the floor, collapsing into a huddle. I couldn't hide it anymore...I just couldn't....I was so embarrassed that I was crying like a little girl, but I hurt too much to hide it. My mother...Lance...I felt like my world was falling apart. Justin grabbed me by the shoulders and looked at me straight in the eyes.

"Justin....I broke up with Lance....because...my mother...she's dead..." I sobbed, as he stared at me with a shocked expression on his face.

"Your mother died?" Justin exclaimed. "And you didn't tell Lance?" I shook my head.

"No, I couldn't. I couldn't ruin the last night of the tour for him...to drag him into my problems. It's not right, Justin. I care too much about Lance to do that."

He let out a bitter laugh at my twisted logic. "I think the night's already been ruined for him, Stephen. Why didn't you just tell him?"

"I couldn't. He'd want to leave the tour tonight...I'm going home now, Justin. And he would have wanted to come with me. I know Lance. I couldn't let him do that."

"So you're gonna let him think that you don't care for him anymore, right?" Justin asked in disbelief, looking at me like I was insane. "Just like that?"

"I have to..It's the only way..." I looked up at him again. "Please, Justin--don't tell him." His eyes grew round at my request.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, holding his hands like a shield in front of him. "I can't lie to Lance. He has a right to know about this. He's upset and I know he still cares about you."

"Justin, please," I begged him, looking at my watch. I had to get going soon. "Look, I kept your secret when you asked me to." He stared at me as though I had slapped him in the face. I bet he didn't think I would have ever brought that back up, but I did and now I was holding over his head.

"Stephen," Justin said shaking his head. "I don't like this one bit..."

"Please, Justin...you can tell him in a few months..when the pain won't be so fresh for either of us," I managed to choke out. A few months? A few months without Lance? God, I could barely imagine one day without Lance, let alone a few months. But you have to do what you have to do, I thought as I pulled myself off the floor and stared at Justin squarely in the eye. I held his gaze, challenging him...finally, he caved in.

"Okay, okay," Justin muttered. "I'll keep your secret, but I think you're making a huge mistake, Stephen." I smiled thinly, despite how rotten I was feeling on the inside. I felt like my heart had been torn out of my chest as I picked up my bags off the floor.

"Thanks, Justin," I said, giving him a brief hug. "You don't know how much I appreciate it. And at least you know I'm not a total creep."

"Never thought you were," he said, a nervous half-smile appearing on his face, "And Stephen..I'm really sorry about your mom. I mean, I know how lame it sounds, but I am...I just wish Lance knew. I know if something happened to Harris's family, I'd want to be the first to know no matter what." As I turned to the elevator, I felt that Justin's parting words were like a knife in my heart....'no matter what'....yeah, right, I thought as I left the hotel.

..."The French have a saying for it: to say good-bye is to die a little"... -Raymond Chandler, `The Long Goodbye'

I stood in the airport terminal, hoping, silently praying that that Justin would have told Lance what had happened. And that Lance would come after me like Josh had come for Cynthia. But I boarded the airplane. And no one came after me.

As I sat on the plane, my fingers tightening around the armrest as the plane took off for home, all I could think of was, "Goodbye Lance...I'll miss you."

So what do you think? Hmmm? Mail me at sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com and tell me. That's all for now, thanks for reading...love, Gabriella.....

(These are the following song lyrics used in this story (it's a long list, and I don't want to get sued):

• "Half a World Away" ** So.Central Rain (I'm Sorry) **** "I'm Not Over You"--these three songs are by R.E.M. (wonderful band, I should add here) all songs are Copyright R.E.M./Athens Ltd 1991, 1984, and 1998.

*** "What Makes You Happy"--Liz Phair, 1998, don't know the copyright on this, but I know that she did write it. Please don't sue me...)