Okay, it's been forever since I posted, I know, and I'm sorry. Little things like life get in the way of the best-laid plans. This chapter would have probably been posted at least a month and a half ago if the new job schedule hadn't been reeking havoc with my internal clock. It's slowly adjusting, though.
My first thanks go out to all of you who still give me a few minutes of your time. You're the reason the thoughts in my head are put on "paper" in the first place, and I hope you still enjoy it. The characters have come to mean a lot to me in the past two years--almost as much as getting to hear from the people who read about them.
Special thanks go out to a few select people, but this list is by no means inclusive. First and foremost is DLS, who I get to talk to a lot less these days. That just means I value the time we do get together even more. Then, of course, is Kamadu, who helps make sure that my writing bears at least a passing resemblance to the English language. She's also right there with a kind (or unkind) word as the case may be, so that you're not subjected to my random thoughts without some kind of gatekeeper. Thanks, Karen :) Lastly, there are people who just make it fun for me. Sprout, of course, who's simply him, and I wouldn't have it any other way, since he's just the greatest. Goreckii, who's ever so complicated in that sick and twisted but otherwise enjoyable way. Rachel, one of my first readers, one of my friends, and a constant source of inspiration as a writer and of amusement (check out the livejournal if you don't know what I mean). RCJ, who despite being further south than I am, is always there, even if it is with a redneck musing. To everyone else, words just wouldn't suffice :)
Insert standard disclaimer here. I'm too long-winded to repeat myself.
As always, my love to Joshua.
Chapter 28
I was awakened several hours later by some wonderful smells from the kitchen. Shifting in place, I realized JC's arms were wrapped around me. I couldn't imagine feeling safer with anyone or anything. As much as I wanted to investigate the aromas down the hall, I wasn't giving up this moment for anything. I moved just enough to plant a kiss above his breastbone, bringing a smile to his still-sleeping face. Content with that, I snuggled closer and just stayed there.
A little while later, I heard a soft knock at the door. "Are you guys awake in there?"
"Come in, Curly," I smiled, still nestled in JC's arms.
He returned my smile when he saw us. "Are you sure I'm not interrupting?"
"Not at all. Josh is fast asleep."
"I like seeing you two like this."
"Naked?" I grinned.
He rolled his eyes at me. "No. Just happy."
"I know what you mean," I reassured him. "I like being like this." Since JC and I were in the middle of the bed, I patted the edge of the bed to tell him to take a seat.
Obliging, he walked over and sat down. "He was miserable last week without you, even though he knew it was only for a few days."
I reached up and stroked JC's jaw line with my finger, making him shift ever so slightly. "I missed him, too. I think for the first time, I realized just how much."
"He made me promise to stop him from calling you. Believe me, that was a full-time job."
"I can believe it. I called his cell phone when I knew you guys were in rehearsals so I would get his voicemail and get to hear his voice."
Justin just smiled. "You two have it so bad for each other."
"Yeah, we do," I acknowledged as I eased myself from JC's arms and dropped my legs over the side of the bed. My back was to Justin, but even with that, I knew his eyes were focused on the far wall because I was naked. It was totally unnecessary since the sheets would be blocking his view, but that was just him.
I grabbed the closest pair of underwear to me, which happened to be JC's, and slid them on. "It's safe to look, Curly."
He turned around with a thankful smile while I slid into a pair of jeans, also JC's. No great surprise, as all of my clothes were on the side of the bed where Justin was sitting. Pulling his shirt over my head, I winced for a moment as I tried to loosen its snug fit around my neck and shoulders. I noticed that he had his hand over JC's. To this day, it amazed me how close the two of them were. Smiling, I pulled the comforter atop the sleeping body in front of me. Kneeling over to kiss him, I motioned to Justin for the two of us to go so he could sleep.
Following my nose into the kitchen, I looked over Joey's shoulder. "Smells good, Joe. Anything I can do?"
He grinned over his shoulder and flicked some flour in my face. "Nope. You timed it perfect, Mr. Helper."
"That's me," I smiled.
"Actually, I'm about to put it in the oven now. It's marinated long enough. Wanna get the door?"
"Sure," I told him, reaching up with my free hand to turn the knob to bake.
"What temperature?"
"Three-fifty," he answered, sliding the pan onto the rack. "Set the timer for about twenty-five minutes. I didn't preheat this thing."
"Done," I smiled. Noticing the time, "Is it really that early?"
"Yes, it is, Casanova," he laughed. "You and Romeo wore each other out early today. It's barely after lunch."
I laughed and grabbed a Coke on my way back to den. Walking to the couch, I dropped beside Justin and swung my legs into his lap. He rolled his eyes and smiled, but he let them stay.
"Are you still working on the crossword puzzle, Lance?" I asked him. "And all this time, I've been telling people that Southerners aren't slow."
He blushed slightly at that. "I fell asleep earlier, and I'm just now getting back to it."
"Sure, Lance," I overemphasized comically. "I believe you."
"Hey, what's this?" Chris asked, looking over Lance's shoulder.
"It's a newspaper, Chris. People put words on it so that people who know how to can read," Joey added nonchalantly as he joined us.
The next sound that came out of Chris' mouth can best be approximated to the sound that a seal makes when he wants a fish. Without skipping a beat, Joey tossed a pillow squarely at Chris' head, with the corner wedging in his mouth in mid-sound.
"He shoots, he scores," Justin commented, and Joey raised his arms in victory.
"I meant that," Chris reiterated, obviously perturbed , pointing in front of Lance.
"You have got to be kidding," Lance shot at him.
"Okay, now I'm scared," Joey chuckled. "What is it, Scoop?"
"I don't think I can even bring myself to say the word," he grinned. He turned the paper towards Justin and me.
"You want to go to a karaoke bar?" Justin asked incredulously. "He's finally cracked," he said to no one in particular.
"Oh, come on," Chris chided. "It'll be fun."
"Joey?" Lance asked, cutting his eyes towards him.
"Whatever," he laughed. "I don't want to have anything to do with the decision-making process on that one."
"Justin?" Lance asked, hoping for a voice of reason.
"It's up to Matt."
"Why in the hell is it up to me?" I asked, smiling.
"Because I don't want to have anything to do with the decision-making process on it, either," Justin beamed.
"Fine," I snorted. "Me, neither. I'll let my boyfriend decide."
Chris opened his mouth, but I cut him off. "Think about it, Kirkpatrick, because if one `Southern belle' remark comes out of your mouth, I'll use your testicles as ping-pong balls."
A smile cracked his face. "I was just going to say that asking JC sounded like a good idea."
"Sure, Chris. We believe you," Joey agreed in an overly sarcastic tone. He grinned at me. "You might as well go start getting Don Juan out of bed. The chicken will be done in a few minutes."
"I'm looking forward to one of your famous Fatone family recipes," I smiled, using my leverage to push myself up after planting the heel of my hand squarely on Justin's groin. He just groaned.
"Keep it up, and I'm not going to tell you that my grandmother brought over one of her famous peach cobblers," he threatened.
"I missed Miss Sadie?" I asked, pouting. "How come you didn't wake me up?"
"She said to let `You kids have your fun,'" Justin quoted, trying to mimic the voice.
"I still can't believe you told your grandmother about us," I cringed.
He shook his head. "Who had to tell her? Besides, JC's family to her, and by association, so are you."
"And she's okay with it?"
"She's Southern Baptist, not clueless," he grinned.
"Kind of brings whole new meaning to that `doing someone in front of your grandmother' crack, huh?" Chris quipped.
"You want to do someone in front of your grandmother, that's your business," Justin told him, "but keep your dirty hormones away from my grandmother. She's not used to such behavior."
"I'm gonna refrain from even pointing out that she's had children who've had children," Chris smiled.
"And since when are my hormones dirty, Curly?" I posed him, trying not to laugh.
"I never said that," he smiled, scrambling to defend himself. "I was talking about Chris."
"Hey!" Chris frowned.
"You are such a suck-up," Lance giggled, throwing the newspaper at Justin.
"Yeah, but he's so good at it," I smiled, grabbing Justin's chin. "Besides, who could resist this smile?"
Justin flashed his pearly whites. "You didn't buy any of that, did you?" he asked, barely moving his lips.
"Not a word," I smiled back, barely speaking myself.
"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" he asked with a chuckle.
"You bet," I smiled.
"I'm sorry," he pretended to pout. "What can I do to make it up to you?"
"Cheap sexual favors come to mind," I winked at him.
"Oh, they'd be cheap alright," Chris offered.
"But at least I wouldn't have to give refunds," Justin shot back at him.
Chris tried to look hurt. Turning to Joey, "Is he referring to double coupon days?"
"I'm going to go check on the food," Joey grinned.
"Hey, Lance, defend my honor," Chris demanded.
Lance just shook his head. "That's not what us Southern belles do."
"I never said that!" Chris protested.
"Maybe not, but you were thinking it loud enough," Lance smirked.
"Hey, stay out of my head," Chris cried. "There's not enough room in there for both of us."
"There's not enough room for you, Chris, but considering the neighborhood, I didn't feel safe going in there alone," Lance said nonchalantly as he started flipping through channels with the remote.
Justin and I just looked at each other. Joey stopped in mid-stride. Chris just gawked. "I do believe there's hope for the albino after all," Chris chirped proudly.
Nodding curtly, "I think I'll go wake up Josh now."
"Can I come?" Chris tried to pout. Upon failing that, he just smiled gleefully.
Rolling my eyes, I just laughed. "There is just so much wrong with that question."
"Not as much as what's wrong with the guy asking it," Lance grinned.
I just smiled back at Lance. "Score two for the albino."
Lance tossed one of the pillows towards me almost faster than I could narrowly escape into the hallway. "I'm not an albino," he protested. "I'm pigmentally challenged."
Sticking my head back inside, "I don't even think that's a real word."
"Oh, I got a real word for you," he smirked.
"Why, Mr. Bass," I fawned in my best drawl, "I think that would be an affront to my delicate sensibilities."
Lance got up and started for the kitchen. Cutting his eyes towards me, "Not as much as breaking off my foot in your ass, so go wake up your better half."
Justin was cackling uncontrollably, and Chris just sat there stunned. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Lance Bass?" he finally managed while Justin's tears continued.
I could see the beginnings of an evil grin at the corner of Lance's mouth. "Shouldn't you be getting back to the factory before Willie Wonka sends out the search party?"
Looking over at Chris, Justin and I both knew instantly what Lance had meant. The colors of his clothes were perfect. "Oh my God!" Justin cried out in a fit of hysterics. "He's right!"
Shaking my head, I smacked Justin on the top of the head for laughing so hard and threw a pillow at Lance for being more like Chris than Lance. I rolled my eyes with a smile and tiptoed into our bedroom. I immediately saw that it wasn't necessary, because he was lying there with his arms behind his head.
"I could hear you guys laughing in there," he smiled groggily. "What'd I miss?"
"Um, let's see--Joey calling me pet names, Justin promising me cheap sexual favors, Lance threatening to put something in my ass, and discovering that Chris is actually an Oompa-Loompa."
"Oh," he said nonchalantly, "the usual."
"Yup," I grinned. He just laughed.
Crawling into bed with him, I nestled myself in one of his armpits. He instinctively brought the arm down around me. "Why are you wearing my shirt and pants?" he asked when he finally grew cognizant of his surroundings.
"I think a better question is why you aren't. Apparently, the consensus is in favor of going to a karaoke bar tonight," I fought to say without smiling.
He was in mid-yawn, his free arm trying to stifle it. When I told him that, however, he began coughing. "You can't be serious."
"They're your bandmates," I reminded him. "You talk to them."
"I think Dr. Freud and I will do just that," he laughed.
"While you're at it, ask him what he thinks about me wearing your underwear, too," I grinned evilly.
He just raised an eyebrow at me. "I know what I think about it."
Smiling, I reached down and lifted the sheet covering his midriff. Nodding, I agreed, "Yeah, I'd say you have some pretty strong feelings on the subject."
He pulled me into a kiss and rolled on top of me, his naked form covering me from head to toe. I ran one hand down his back and across his thigh. "You know what I like best about you wearing my clothes?" he asked me.
I shook my head, "No."
"Getting you out of them," he growled as he hooked a hand down the front of his jeans--the jeans I was wearing.
"I hope Joey's chicken warms-up well in the microwave," I smiled as I pushed a hand down from the small of his back and gave him a squeeze.
"Do you really care right now?" he grinned.
"Not especially," I replied before rolling back over on top of him.
"For the love of all that's holy," Justin sighed, "how'd it come to this? We were the most popular boy-band in the world, and now we're going to do karaoke in a place that even I'd call backwater."
"Save the melodrama for `Behind the Music,' you prissy queen," I laughed. "If you didn't want to come, you and the rest of your cowardly lot should have protested when the lawn jockey over there suggested it."
"Hey!" Chris protested. "Why is this my fault?"
"Um, because it was your idea," Joey reminded him.
"Oh, yeah," Chris grinned.
"But let's not forget that it's your better half who cast the deciding vote," Lance offered.
"Oh, believe me," I told him, "I haven't forgotten. He'll be punished appropriately later."
"Did anyone else get visions of leather when he said that?" Chris wondered aloud.
"NO!" resounded from everyone else--everyone but JC, that is.
My jaw dropped, and I just stood there, mouth agape. "Don't tell me . . . ."
"I won't," he smirked.
"I will," Justin offered. "I know all his secrets."
"And I know all of yours," JC reminded him nonchalantly as he walked ahead of us. "I'd remember that, if I were you," he warned, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
"Justin?" I prodded, already knowing the answer.
"Never mind," he blushed, rushing into the club.
We walked in the doors, and all any of us could do was just stare. The place was well past the point of being a tacky eyesore, it was just too ugly for words. Originally, a speakeasy during Prohibition, the place had also obviously been a country-western bar in an earlier life. When that died, the carcass was converted into an urban/hip-hop type of club that I barely remembered from years back. It was turned into an 80's/retro place a while back before it was revealed that it was a money-laundering place for a local prostitution and drug-pushing lowlife. It was shut down by the police until it was bought by a flamboyant local eccentric who turned it into a karaoke bar.
Apparently, each incarnation must have pushed the remnants of the previous occupants into storage, because here, now, was a glimpse into each and every tortured existence, crammed into the same space. What took the cake stood off to the side of the stage. An old Packard, with cattle horns on the front, came complete with a mannequin driver, clad in parachute pants, a Members only jacket, checkered Vans, a pair of Ray-Bans, and a single, sparkling glove.
A single sentiment was shared by all of us when Joey just gawked and said, "Holy Mary, Mother of God."
"Amen," Lance chuckled. "It's like the last century just exploded in this place."
"I love it," Chris chirped, smiling gleefully as he headed for a table.
"You would, ya freak!" Justin chuckled.
"What are we doing here again?" JC asked me pleadingly.
"I didn't have enough sense to ask you if you wanted to come until you were fully awake," I replied. He raised his eyes in acknowledgement and nodded. "And," I continued, "you just didn't have enough sense." He smiled and nodded harder.
We followed everyone to the table while the emcee made announcements. "We've had a great night of not-so-great singing," he laughed, "and it's just when you think it couldn't possibly get any worse, we bring you the Dial of Doom." Melodramatic "oohs" and "ahs" came from the audience, which was quite obviously made up of a lot of regulars. That thought alone gave me chills and forced me to stifle a laugh.
"That's right," he jeered, "for the next two hours, when the spotlight hits you, you have to come up here and spin the wheel. You must choose a song from that category to wow us with. Our judges here will be watching you like pigs to the slaughter, but it will all be worth it for that $1,000 prize we're giving away tonight. And don't forget, the winner comes back at our end of summer blow-out for a chance at $10,000." More shameless lauding came from the audience as he took a bow. "With that, let the games begin."
We had no sooner taken our seats and given the waitress our drink orders when a middle-aged woman got hit with the beam from above the stage. She staggered up onto the stage and spun the wheel. She was obviously wasted, and when she spun the wheel, she fell to the floor, complaining about how "the damned thing moved." All I could do was cringe when the needle came to rest on rap.
"Ten to one says she doesn't know a single word," Joey grinned, holding up a hundred dollar bill.
"You're on," Justin nodded.
"I'll take a piece of that action," Chris quickly jumped in.
"I'm out," Lance smiled, waving his hand in the air.
"What do you think?" JC asked me, amused.
"A hundred to one says she does DMX flawlessly," I smiled knowingly. JC stared at me with questioning eyes. I just nodded. Shaking his head, he threw his money on the table, and we watched and waited. I thought Lance was going to wet himself by the time she hit "Y'all gonna make me lose my mind . . . ."
Everyone paid up, and JC swept the cash towards him. They wanted answers, but I just waved them off as the song continued to its end. When the amusing, yet musically-uninspiring rendition concluded, I rose to my feet. The woman stumbled over to me. "Well?" she asked. "How'd I do?"
"Sounded exactly the same as when I heard you sing it when I brought in that MCA the night you heard it on the radio," I grinned.
"That bad, huh?" she chuckled.
"Guys, I would like you to meet Sandra White, one of the ICU nurses at the hospital, as well as its resident lush," I laughed.
"I resemble that remark," she smiled. "Actually, I'm only on my second Seabreeze."
"And how many Vodka Crans have we had tonight?" I asked her.
"Well, I don't know about you," she slurred, "but I've had six."
"You've had too many," I told her.
"I'm just trying to get my drink on, Boo."
I just shook my head. "You here with Nessie?"
"Yup. She's drinking her dinner as we speak."
"Well, I won't keep you," I told her. "I just wanted to say hi when I saw you up there."
"Have fun, crazy," she garbled as she started back for her table. As an afterthought, she held up her drink in toast and yelled, "Nice to meet you all."
"Nice to meet you, too," JC smirked, looking down at money in front of him.
"I cry foul!" Justin protested.
"You can cry all you want, infant," I stuck out my tongue at him. "No one laid any ground rules for that ridiculous bet of yours."
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" the announcer called out from the stage. "It seems we have some celebrities in our midst."
"Oh, hell," Joey muttered.
"Apparently, our very own hometown-boy-made-good Justin Timberlake and the rest of the guys from *NSYNC are with us tonight. As a matter of fact, one of them just paid me to ask another one to come up here and perform for us. So what do you say, JC?"
The spotlight hit him square in the face. I turned just in time to see Chris sitting down again. I hadn't even noticed he was gone. "You devious bastard," JC gritted through his teeth as he stood with the round of applause.
"I tend to want some entertainment for spending that kind of money," he smiled gleefully.
"Get a lap-dance next time, Sleazy Smurf," JC snorted as he smacked Chris on the back of the head. He shot him a look that was only half in jest, "You know I'm gonna get you for this."
To his credit, JC really seemed to take it in stride. He flashed smiles that even I would have believed as he was urged towards the comedic-looking "Dial of Doom." "This must be what `Say What? Karaoke' is like in Hell," Joey whispered to me.
JC visibly cringed as the wheel lost momentum. I knew he was enough of a music aficionado that he would have no problem, regardless of what it threw at him. The only question that remained was how painful it would be. He honestly seemed a bit relieved when it landed on "60's Rock." He walked over to the guy at the soundboard to presumably see if the song he wanted was there. Apparently, it was, because he walked back to the mike, smiling.
When he started, I began to smile, finding his own amusement contagious. A friend of mine had always said they wanted to hear him sing this. When it got to the chorus, I could barely stop myself from laughing.
"Well, you don't know what we can find," he began, leading into the familiar lyrics, "Why don't you come with me little girl on a magic carpet ride? You don't know what we can see. Why don't you tell your dreams to me? Fantasy will set you free. Close your eyes, girl. Look inside, girl. Let the sound take you away."
"He does have a great voice," came from behind me. I didn't need to see who it was to identify them. JC's infectious grin couldn't break the expression now frozen on my face. I refused to even turn around to acknowledge the presence.
"Tell me something, Rich," I said coolly. "How come it is that at the time I wanted you in my life more than anyone else on this earth, you walked, but now, when I neither want nor need the undue aggravation of having you in the same area code with me, I can't seem to get rid of you?"
"Matt, hear me out," he pleaded. "I'm begging you."
"Those words sound awfully familiar," I shot back. "The only problem is that I'm not the same guy who said them--not anymore."
"Matt," he implored me, "I've got to set things right between us before it's too late."
"Too late for what?" I said, a little louder than intended. JC was already on his way back to the table. "For our relationship?" I asked under my breath. "Guess what? It is too late."
"That's not what I meant," he explained.
"Well, you don't have to feel guilty," I told him sarcastically. "I'm not gonna die, not anymore, so go back to your life so that I can go back to mine."
"How in the hell did you find us?" JC demanded.
"Kathy told me after I explained why I needed . . . ," he replied.
"What you needed?" I repeated incredulously. "Well, apparently either Kathy's still waxing sentimental in the glow of being a new mother or she has just completely confused me with someone who actually gives a damn." I turned back to the stage. "At least about you," I added.
"Will you just hear me out?" Rich asked again.
"What is it you want?" I asked impatiently. "Is it forgiveness? Fine, I forgive you. Now will you just go?"
"If I thought that you meant that, I'd already be gone."
"Meant what? The forgiveness or wanting you out of here? Score on both counts. I don't ever need to see you again."
"Don't worry. I'll be leaving soon."
"You're leaving now," Joey told him.
"Not until I've said my peace," Rich spat angrily.
"I think you've said enough," Lance jumped in. "I think the only message here that seems to be unclear is Matt telling you that you're not welcome here."
"This doesn't concern you," Rich yelled at him, suddenly very aware he was being attacked on multiple fronts.
"Like hell it doesn't," Justin shot back. "Matt is our friend. We love him and care about him. While there's certainly room for other people in his life, there was no room for him in yours, and now, there's no room for you in his."
"I need to hear that from him," Rich said coldly.
"We're back on what you need?" Chris finally interjected, unable to remain silent any longer. "Does someone need to draw you a map?"
Without warning, JC calmly drew back and punched him squarely in the nose. Rich's hand instantly shot up to catch the blood streaming from his nose. He brought a handkerchief to his face to halt both it and the blood being produced when he coughed violently, trying to catch his breath. I was suddenly aware of a spotlight trained upon me while the emcee asked me to join him onstage. Looking at everything, I brought my hands to my temples, trying to will this surreal experience out of existence.
"You'd probably better just do it," JC told me stoically. "It's bad enough that everyone in this corner of the club is a witness to all this, but there's no need for everyone to watch this."
"You know I don't like to sing," I told him, trying very hard not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
"You have a great voice," he smiled gently. "I've heard you."
I looked over at Rich, a question forming in my head, but before it was fully realized, he smiled. "You do have a great voice," he agreed. "Please? Just once, then I'll go. For me?"
I really couldn't believe he'd just asked that, but more importantly, the way he asked shocked me back to another life. It sent me reeling back to a terrified young man who asked the only person left in his life to stay and help him fight the battle of his life. Someone who'd used those very words--"Please?" and "For me?" A cold smile edged across my face. "For you," I said simply as I walked to the stage.
I watched the guys' mouths drop as I walked away. I could have found something with anything on the wheel, but it seemed a higher power was involved. When it landed on "90's Divas," I could hear snickers from some of the audience, but I couldn't have been happier. When I made sure they had it, I walked to the microphone for a dedication.
"This is for the first great love of my life," I said simply, as I watched JC's heart almost break amidst the darkness. Steeling myself, I began, knowing both he, and Rich, would get the message, loud and clear.
"Did you really think that I would really take you back, let you back in my heart, one more time? No, no," I started. "Did you think that I'd still care? That there'd be more feeling there? Did you think you could walk back in my life?"
Watching the relieved expression on JC's face, I almost pitied the wince I saw Rich make when I continued. "So you found you miss the love you threw away. Baby, but you found it out too late--too late. And so you know the way it feels to cry, the way that I cried when you broke my world in two, baby, I learned the way to break a heart. I learned from the best, I learned from you. Oh, baby, now, I learned from you."
I didn't even acknowledge my stage-fright as I let the song say a lot of what I'd been feeling since Rich reappeared on my doorstep. "I remember cold nights, tears I thought would never dry, how you shattered my world with your goodbye, your goodbye, baby. Would've sold my soul then just to have you back again. Now you're the last thing on my mind."
"Now you say you're sorry and you've changed your ways. Sorry, but you changed your ways too late." With that, I struck into the chorus again, trying to pour my own sentiments into a song I'd once called the greatest kiss-off of all time. "And so you know the way it feels to cry, the way that I cried when you broke my world in two, baby, I learned the way to break a heart. I learned from the best, I learned from you. Oh, baby, now, I learned from you."
Trying to summon all the things I remembered from the vocal coach my mother had hired for me years ago, I raised my voice to the appropriate level, almost painfully, but never cracking. "So, when all you've got are sleepless nights, when those tears are clouding up your eyes, just remember it was you who said goodbye--who said goodbye." As the instrumentals faded into obscurity, I sang the chorus one last time before finally escaping the stage, the spotlight, and a grim realization that ultimately took hold.
I briskly moved towards the table, and everyone was starting to comment on my performance. Strangely, I didn't care. Grabbing JC by the wrist, we followed Rich's path towards the parking lot. Once again, to his credit, he said nothing, merely trailing me. We caught up with Rich just in time to see him unlocking his car. I heard multiple footsteps behind me, and I didn't need to turn to see the others.
"How long?" I asked him simply.
"What?" he asked, uncertain of my question.
"You heard me," I told him, "and you know what I'm asking."
He sat there blankly as Chris blurted out from the background, "Will someone explain what's going on?"
I could see JC just shaking his head uncertainly in my periphery. "How long?"
"How long for what?" Rich asked, trying to skirt the question, but his reaction confirmed my suspicions.
I just shook my head sympathetically. "I almost missed the signs, but it all hit tonight after Josh hit you. Things I saw, things you said."
"Matt, what is it?" Justin asked, gently placing a hand on my arm as he approached.
"The way you're talking . . . ," I began. I finally asked him pointedly. "Is it small cell?"
He nodded, refusing to even look at me.
I repeated one last time, "How long?"
"Two, three months at best," he answered grimly.
"I don't understand," Joey admitted.
"Rich has cancer," JC barely allowed himself to respond.
"And he's going to die," I finished.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
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"Magic Carpet Ride" written by John Kay and Rushton Moreve. Copyright MCA Music (BMI). "I Learned From the Best" written by Diane Warren Realsongs (ASCAP).