The Love of a Stranger
Hey, folks. I'll make this short and keep my comments for the end.
All I wanna say first is: prepare to shutdown that part of your brain that asks difficult questions; I'm going to need you to go with me on this one. It could be a bit of a stretch, I don't really know until I get your reactions. :) braan90@hotmail.com <hint, hint> :)
Disclaimer: This fictitious story is exactly that, a work of fiction. To say that there was anything factual about this story would be a fiction. I don't know Nsync - hell, I know very little about them, so I apologise to them if I happen to completely mangle their characters. If you had to take one word from this, let it be: FICTION.
Similarly, you really shouldn't be reading this, you know. Yeah, you, that cute guy over there. You know you're too young, so get out, youngster. Don't get me wrong, I do love you and all, but there are much better ways of spending your youth than at a computer, and your parents would kick my ass for being a nasty influence. :) Likewise, if this kinda stuff is illegal in your locale, do yourself a favour and get out now! Whether you choose to get out of this story or of the area in which it's illegal to read it, well, I'll leave that up to you. In a word, GETOUTIFYOUKNOWYOUSHOULDN'TBEHERE.
OK, here comes the story. :)
CHAPTER ONE
I smiled to myself as I walked back into the bedroom and saw Sean lying on his side in our bed, breathing peacefully. The covers lay haphazardly across his torso, offering me a delicious view of his chest, and his arms were spread over the pillows. I decided, presented with my options, that breakfast could wait a little longer, and slid back under the covers behind him, wrapping my arms around my lover's chest and lightly kissing him across the top of his shoulders.
"Mmmm..." I heard him moan. I smiled and continued.
"Hmm, stop it, sugardrop, it tickles!"
Sugardrop? That sure was a new one. I wondered where he'd got that from.
"Sugardrop, baby? Where did that one come from?" I lay my cheek against his shoulder as I spoke.
At the sound of my voice he shot away from me like he'd been branded, hitting my jaw with his elbow in the process. I grabbed it and grunted in pain. Sean stood against the wardrobe doors, as far away from me as he could manage. He looked around, in a panicked state, then noticing his own nakedness, tried in vain to cover himself with his hands. I could only look on in shock, hoping against hope that I was only the victim of one of his elaborate practical jokes...but, looking into his eyes, I saw only confusion.
"Who the hell are you? Where's my wife?"
That last word reached right into my chest and chilled my heart. Oh, shit. Blood pounded in my ears - how, I don't know, as I'm sure my heart had stopped beating. Through the noise, I heard Sean demand - "Well?"
"Sean, baby, I'm Josh, your boyfriend." I didn't even want to think of the answer to his second question.
"What do you mean, boyfriend? I'm no faggot! I'm married, for god's sake! And my name isn't Sean, it's fucking Iain! And where the hell am I?"
It felt so odd - like I was watching someone else's life crash down around them, instead of it being my own.
"You're at home, in our apartment, in Orlando."
Sean coughed heavily. "We were living together? We were sleeping together?"
I nodded, feeling a tear form in the corner of my eye.
Sean covered his mouth instantly, then dashed into the bathroom, where a few seconds later I heard him emptying the contents of his stomach.
I slumped back onto the bed, tears falling freely from my eyes now, though I was too shocked to sob.
As many times as this day had played itself out in my mind - in my nightmares, mainly - it had done nothing to prepare me for the painful reality. It had never been so bad as this. They'd almost stopped coming, actually, but back at the start of our relationship, almost every night I'd pictured this day coming. And now the day was here, and what had become of all of Sean's reassurances, that he'd still love me if he recovered himself? Now I could see them for what they were with a clarity previously impossible. They were only empty promises, given to try and make me feel better at the time. How could he possibly have kept those promises? He was literally another person at the time.
I would have given anything to go back to those dreams - where even in the worst scenarios, where Sean had left me, he'd at least managed to remain civil to me, and we had been able to talk, to let me explain a bit...and he'd certainly never run to the bathroom, vomiting at the very thought of our making love, something that last night had been so special to us both.
And it was that, more than anything else, which had the tears coursing down my face. Our relationship made him sick. Something that meant so much to me, hell, the one thing I'd built my life around, made him physically sick.
I lay there without moving for a couple of minutes until I felt him re-enter the room. I still didn't move until I heard him clear his throat and say -
"OK...um, OK, guy, can you please give me some idea of what the fuck I'm doing here?"
I sat up slowly, happy to discover he was a little calmer now. I nodded.
"About a year and a half ago, you were an accident, a car accident. Your injuries healed in a couple of weeks, but you hit your head real bad, apparently, and you've had amnesia since then." I took a breath. "The doctors said it was unlikely you'd recover your memory this long after the accident, they said that if it was going to happen it would have happened in the first six months or first year." I sighed. "We've been together for...well, for a year now, actually."
"OK, faggot, I've heard enough. Basically, you took advantage of me and forced me to have sex with you, right?"
I didn't know what to answer - how had he leapt to that conclusion? What happened to the calmer tone? I sat stunned for a moment, but when I saw him coming towards me, I suddenly felt the need to defend myself.
"No! No, that's not how it was at all! We were in..."
Everything slowed down then, at least in my mind, as I saw his clenched fist moving through the air towards me. My eyes flashed wide open in shock, but I couldn't move fast enough to get out of the way.
I remember seeing his fist coming at me...I remember my eyes being wide open...I remember the initial feeling of his skin just touching mine...then the next thing I remember is falling backwards onto the pillows with an incredibly sore jaw.
I heard him picking clothes up off the floor and pulling them on. I tried not to move, I prayed to god this man would leave and that somehow whatever had gone on would start undoing itself, and I'd wake up with Sean in my arms, where he belonged.
No suck luck.
"You make me sick!" I heard his voice say, then I heard him leave the room. Something told me not to let myself go yet, and I was right. Halfway to the front door he must have decided he hadn't yet insulted me, injured me, or trodden me into the dirt quite to his satisfaction. I heard him enter again, approach the bed, then he drew back his head and - spat on me.
He honest-to-god spat on me.
He then turned and left me alone again, and a minute later I heard the front door slam behind him, the chain scratching roughly against the door as it swung. I let out a deep breath and began - bawling.
He spat on me. He spat on me. Did he have so little regard for another human's feelings that he could do such a thing? I couldn't believe I had fallen in love with someone who shared a body with that cold, savage...creature.
I sobbed, long and loud. The change that had come over my life in the space of the last ten minutes was pretty dramatic. I'd gone from having everything - a wonderful relationship, a successful career, the best friends in the whole world, and a supportive family - to having nothing now, simply because, as pathetic as it was to admit to, without Sean, I didn't know how to fit together the pieces I still had around me.
I think I was completely justified in crying myself into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER TWO
I was woken some time later by the phone ringing. I let it go for a little, but the damn thing just wouldn't stop. I finally reached over and picked up the handset. "Hello," I muttered. Boy, my jaw was really quite stiff now.
"Hey, JC, how's it goin'?" It was Lance.
"Uh.... I'm OK, Lance," I replied, slurring due to the jaw.
"Wow, you sound pretty hung-over or something. Big night last night with Sean?"
At the mention of his name, I lost it. I couldn't hold back the tears another moment.
Lance knew by the silence that came before the tears that something was wrong. "JC, what happened?" I couldn't answer. "JC, is Sean there with you?"
"No," I was able to whisper between sobs.
"JC, I'm coming over. I'll be there in fifteen....no, ten minutes." I heard him pick up his keys as he moved around his house. "Just sit tight, OK, I'll be there real soon."
"Thanks, Lance," I whispered.
"No trouble, JC. I'll see you real soon, OK? I love you, man."
"Me too, Lance. Bye." I hung up the handset.
I took a deep breath. "STOP....CRYING....ASSHOLE!" I yelled. It actually worked a little, too. I took another deep breath and lay back down on my right side, since it was the left side of my jaw that ached.
I was nearly back asleep when I heard a key slide into the lock and the door being pushed open. Lance closed it softly behind him - I couldn't remember him ever having slammed a door in all the years we'd known each other. He was so gentle - and then began calling out to me.
"JC? Where are ya?" I heard his voice echo as he checked in the kitchen, then his footsteps as he padded down to the bedroom.
"There you are," he said as he came into the room. I sat up on the bed and promptly burst into tears again seeing the concern on Lance's face. He rushed over and grabbed me in a hug, and I instinctively threw my arms around him as well, holding onto him like my life depended on it, sobbing uncontrollably on his shoulder.
I could feel Lance didn't know how to respond for a minute, but then he just started rubbing my back gently and comforting me. "Shhh, Josh...it's going to be OK...it's going to be all right, you hear me? I'm here now, and I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, OK?"
I nodded against his neck. God, he was such a sweetie. I began to resent myself for being so pathetic, when I had a friend as great as Lance on my side. Compared to so many people, I really had very little to cry about.
"Here, let me get you a tissue," Lance said, disengaging his arms from me. I reluctantly let go of him, and he stepped away from me. He pulled a few tissues from the box on the bedside table, then turned around to face me. "Here ya go...Holy shit, Josh, what happened to your face?"
I had to drop my eyes - I couldn't look him in the face and see his concern without bursting into tears again - but he probably interpreted it as shame. Lance gasped as the most likely, and in this case, true, explanation occurred to him.
"Oh my god - he hit you? He did, didn't he?"
I could only nod as I felt the tears well up again.
"OK, wait right here, JC, I'm just going to get some ice to put on your jaw, then you're going to tell me all about it, OK?" I nodded dumbly. "I'll be back in a jiffy." I chuckled at his back. Who else uses that dumb expression other than Lance?
He really was back quickly, with one of those blue medi-pack things you can either freeze or heat. We'd got it last September, after Sean had twisted his ankle badly one day we'd gone rollerblading together...damn it. How many of our household objects were going to hold memories just as painful?
Lance wrapped the frozen medi-pack in a teatowel and held it up to my face. I took it from him and held it there myself, lying back against the bedhead as I did so. Lance kicked his shoes off and sat on the bed at my feet, crossing his legs like a little kid.
"So," he began, "can you tell me what happened?"
I cleared my throat. "He got his memory back," I said softly.
Lance nodded. "I thought you were going to say that." I smiled grimly. Lance knew me far too well. "Did it happen this morning?" I nodded. "What happened exactly?"
I told him every detail I could remember, not leaving out a thing. He's my best friend, Lance, and we don't keep stuff from each other. I guess that's why we're so close. We understand each other so deeply it can be frightening.
"He spat on you?" Lance demanded.
"Yep, and then he walked out the door," I finished the story.
"No, wait up, he SPAT on you?" Lance exploded. "I swear, if I EVER see that asshole again I'm gonna make him wish..."
I couldn't stop from laughing out loud. Lance looked at me strangely, a look of utter befuddlement on his face. "What's so funny?"
I laughed again. "You! You're so cute! Plus the thought of you threatening physical violence...Lance, it's just not you. Thanks for the sentiments, though."
Lance blushed. "Don't get fresh with me, JC." We both laughed. "Really, though, don't mention it, man. I love you, and I know you'd do the same for me. I just...how could anyone be so inhuman?"
I closed my eyes. "We always knew that this could happen, Lance. It was always a possibility. I...I just wish I'd known how little time we had to spend together, you know? We could have done so much more." I paused for a second. "You know, he always promised me that no matter what happened with his amnesia, that he'd always love me. Why the hell did I believe him? Why was I so stupid? There was no way he could keep that promise to me, no way..."
Lance scooted up the bed and took me by the shoulders. "Hey...listen to me. You believed that because you had to. You had to believe him so that you could give yourself to the relationship, and so you could spend the whole happy year with him. It was worth it, right?"
I nodded. "Yeah, Lance, it was the best year of my life. Despite everything that's happened today, if you gave me the chance, I'd sign up for exactly the same thing in a minute if it gave me another year with him."
"Oh, god! I'm so stupid! Josh, I'm so sorry, I forgot - it was your anniversary yesterday, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," I whispered.
"I'm so sorry, JC."
"Don't be, Lance. You're right, as usual. I should be thankful that we got to spend a year together. People go their whole lives without knowing a day of true happiness, and I got to live a whole year of it."
"But we still hate this Iain guy for what he did to you, right?"
"Oh, yeah, he's still an asshole," I joked, my heart not really in it.
We laughed again until Lance said: "Well, I'm glad to see you can still laugh."
I smiled. "Always, Lance. Always."
Our eyes met and for a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his deep green eyes. I surprised even myself when I leaned in and gently pressed my lips against his. His lips were soft, but completely unresponsive. Neither of us had moved our mouths at all since they had first touched. Once I realised that fact, I pulled my head back, looking Lance straight in the eyes.
"I'm sorry I did that," I muttered.
Lance shrugged. "It's OK," he said, wiping his lips. "Umm....you know I'll have to tell Justin though, don't you?"
"Yeah. Or, if you want, I could kiss Justin when I see him tomorrow, then you can both have something to confess. Hot make-up sex virtually guaranteed..." I offered.
Lance blushed again. "You old perv. Where would we be without your romantic matchmaking going on?"
I grinned. "Well, we'd be without the spare bunk on the tour bus, that's for sure."
"And I give thanks to God every day for what you did for us, JC."
This time I blushed, and sighed. "Do you ever find it frustrating that there's not the slightest bit of chemistry between us?"
Lance took only a second before replying - "No, never. And you would have said exactly the same thing yesterday. I don't think we're meant for each other that way, Josh. I love you just as much as I love Justin, but in a completely different way. You're my best friend, JC, that's the only way I know how to say it."
"Yeah, I know. You're right as usual, Lance. I'm really glad we're friends." We both smiled, a little awkwardly.
Lance put his finger on it first. "You know, even for us, this is unspeakably cheesy."
"It is, isn't it?" I agreed. I stood up. "I think I'll take a shower."
Lance took the medi-pack from my hand. "And I'll throw this back in the freezer for when you're done." He rubbed my shoulder. "You take your time in there, you hear?"
I grinned bemusedly. "Is that your way of telling me I stink?"
Lance pushed me away lightly. "Just get in there, you dork! And make sure you put some clothes on before you come out."
I looked down at my boxer shorts. "Sure," I smiled, just for him.
CHAPTER THREE
I emerged a good deal later, refreshed, but not quite as cheerful as I had been. God, the shower brought back memories, too...was I going to have to move to get over him? I shook my head in frustration as I pulled out a pair of cargo shorts and a plain t-shirt from my closet, and put them on over a fresh pair of boxer shorts. Returning the towel to it's home, I went in search of Lance.
He was in the kitchen, cooking me breakfast. I might very well have gone and kissed him again, but for the fact that he was on the telephone, so I just leaned back against the doorframe, watching him work with his back to me.
"No, it's really weird, Just. He's gotta be really cut up, I know he is, but.....He's acting like he's over it already. Joking around like it's his birthday of something.....yeah, I know.....Just, I think you're forgetting that I've known him a good while now, too.....yeah. Listen, you're free tonight, right?.....Could you.....thanks. Cos you know I've got this stupid dinner meeting with that wacko Clarence at Jive.....yeah, that's him," Lance chuckled, "so what time will you.....Well, I'll have to leave about 5.30, but seeing as everyone else is out of town, I guess that's as good as we can do.....yes, I know, Justin, god! Just cos I'm a natural blonde doesn't make me stupid, you know!" he laughed loudly, and I smiled at the long-running joke. "OK, babe, I've really gotta go now. JC's eggs are done, and he's been listening in to the conversation for at least the last three minutes." My jaw dropped. How on earth did... Lance laughed again, though whether at me or at something Justin had said I couldn't be sure. "OK, so you'll call me tonight?.....I don't care, just get me away from that crackpot for a few minutes......plus I get to hear your voice, of course." I could hear the smile in Lance's voice. "OK, babe, slay 'em dead, won't ya? Say hi to Brit for me.....Just make sure there aren't any too intimate poses, OK?.....Bye, Just, I love you. OK, bye.....Well, you didn't hang up, either!" he laughed, "Well, I was busy with both hands, I couldn't.....Oh, for Pete's sake - Justin, I love you, goodbye!" Lance pushed the button on the handset and set it down on the bench, laughing still.
"Take a seat, JC, I'll just be a minute."
"How did you know I was here?" I asked.
Lance turned and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, I just knew." He turned back around. "Though the reflection off the rangehood might have had something to do with it," he replied cheekily, pointing as he did so.
"Smartass," I joked.
"Yeah? And how would you know?" he threw back.
"Well, I don't know for sure, but it seems to win you a lot of arguments with Justin."
Lance stopped still. "Sorry, you want me to throw these eggs out, did you say?"
"No! Lance, I'm sorry. Really."
"See, JC, this is just the thing I was talking to Justin about. It's not you at all. What's going on? Let me help you, please."
I took a plate from the cupboard and stood beside Lance, who transferred the eggs from the frypan. "Thanks." I turned around to pick up a knife and fork. "Lance, I really don't know what to say or do. I mean.....I've never had to do this before, you know. I just don't know what I'm feeling right now, or if I'm feeling anything at all." I walked out and sat down at the dining table. Lance walked out a moment later with two glasses of OJ and sat down opposite me, putting a glass in front of me.
"OK," he nodded.
I shovelled a forkful of egg into my mouth. My god, did Justin ever have it sweet! They were fantastic, and I said as much to Lance, who just nodded again and took a sip from his OJ.
"How's Justin?" I asked between mouthfuls.
That brought a smile to Lance's face. "You mean since you last saw him, two days ago? He's great. He's gone out with Britney today - they've gotta give the teen magazines some new photos to drool over, you know. But he's great, otherwise. God, I love him so much....." Lance got a far-away look on his face. I left him to his reverie and stared over his shoulder into the living room.
It hit me straightaway that I'd be needing a new sofa. Oh, yeah. There is was, that odd kind of pink-orange coloured thing that somehow we had agreed on, and had quickly grown used to, and then to love. The salesman at the furniture store had called it a 'loveseat', and we used to joke that we'd taken him literally......god, how many times had we snuggled on that sofa? How many hundred hours had we spent making out against its plush upholstery? How many times had it been more convenient to stay there for.....for the duration rather than go off to our bed in the cold and distant bedroom? How many times had it supported passion so intense we were barely aware of the existence of other rooms? Yeah, OK, that may have been a little cheesy.
It definitely had to go, I reaffirmed. The bed itself was fine, since the sheets could be changed, and even then, most of the snuggling there had been done in the dark, when we couldn't see each other. The sofa, though.....even looking at it now was coming close to bringing up tears. Looking back at Lance I saw him still off on his own planet with Justin, smiling goofily. I felt a pang. Oh, god, no, please.....I can't be jealous of them. Please don't let me be jealous of my two best friends.....that made me cry, and that brought Lance back to the room. He immediately came around the table and had me in a hug, and it was almost a repeat of earlier this morning except that now I was crying because I was mad with myself, more than anything else. What kind of low-life was I becoming?
"Come on, JC. Let it all out," Lance kept repeating, rubbing my back.
A short while later, I was over it, at least until the next goddamn onslaught. I stood up, forcing Lance to do the same. With some effort I managed to clear my throat.
"What are you doing on Wednesday?"
Lance frowned. "W.....well, nothing during the day, but Just and I are going to his mom's place for dinner."
"You wanna come furniture shopping with me? I need a new sofa."
Lance looked at me with understanding, and with a measure of regret, since he and Justin had had their share of making out on that sofa as well, usually to universal complaints from everyone else present. Then his eyes lit up with a smile. "You're asking me to help you decorate? Oh, JC, now I know why I love you!"
I smiled weakly. "Well, it's true, you do have better taste than Justin."
Lance punched my arm in mock horror. "That was not a compliment! I love the boy like crazy, but honestly...I blame the state of Tennessee, you know. It obviously affected him somehow."
We both chuckled. Damn it, Lance could always get me to laugh. And yawn, it seemed.
"You know, Lance, I think I wanna go to sleep."
"That's no surprise. Come on, then."
"Lance, I can do this by myself, you know. It's what I'm famous for."
He pushed me in front of him all the way down the short hallway, saying only "Shhh," rather dictatorially.
I got to the bed and lay down as normal on the left side. Lance lay down beside me and reached his arm out, laying it on top of mine, his hand resting on my shoulder. I'll admit it weirded me out - with my eyes closed, it was almost sensual - but then I opened my eyes, and it was only Lance.
"It's OK, JC, I'm not going to rape you or anything," he said softly, lulling me to sleep with his deep voice. He seemed to want a response.
"Damn," I replied drowsily. "Just when I was looking for some action from you, Scoop."
Neither of us laughed. This time I read his thoughts faster.
"Damn it, Lance, you've been joking along with me, you know. It hasn't been all my doing."
"You're right, and I'm sorry," he returned.
"Don't be," I yawned. "I like laughing."
I fell asleep in short order, as Lance stroked the side of my head gently.
I woke a good deal later; in fact, it was beginning to get dark outside. I heard a truck backing up down the street, and a motorcycle accelerating away down the block. The room seemed much tidier than I remembered it being before I fell asleep. I could also smell the distinctive odour of old dust newly disturbed. I sat up to investigate.
Which was when Lance walked in. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty! I was just coming to wake you," he smiled brightly.
"No need," I replied. "Lance, please tell me you didn't spend the entire day cleaning my apartment."
Lance lost his smile. "Well, not exactly, I just...I hope you don't mind, I packed up all of Sean's things into garbage bags, and I put them down at the front door so he won't have to come back in here to get them. Do you mind?" he asked nervously.
I thought about that. On the one hand, of course, Lance had spared me a hell of a lot of tears. I think I'd seen for myself today that almost everything to do with....him....could make me cry, and I didn't want to be doing that. Despite what everyone always said, it wasn't making me feel better, it only made me feel like a stupid pathetic crybaby.
On the other hand, there was probably a lot I needed to see amongst all his things. Painful though it would certainly have been, maybe I needed that kind of symbolism, of packing up all his stuff, to help me move on.
I really didn't know.
"JC?" Lance shook my shoulder gently. "I'm sorry. I should have asked you first."
"Don't worry about it," I sighed. "I might not thank you, but, really, don't worry. I know you were thinking of me, and that's something that I'll never be angry at you for."
Lance smiled in relief. "OK."
I stood up. "What time is it?"
Lance replied a second later, "It's 5.30. I've gotta go, actually. I have to go home and take a shower and get dressed, then I have to get to the restaurant, and you just know traffic's going to be a bitch at this time of day."
I nodded. "OK."
"I'm really sorry about this, JC. I wish I could stay here with you, but this meeting was organised like a month ago, it'd be really unprofessional if I cancelled only a couple of hours out."
"Lance, go! I'll be OK."
He bit his lip. "You're right. I'll call and cancel. You're much more important than some stupid business meeting. Then when Just comes over we can get a pizza, or...or Chinese! And watch a movie or something."
"Lance!" I laughed. "I wasn't trying to guilt you! I want you to go. This meeting's to do with NSYNC, right?" Lance nodded. "Well, good. Just as long as it's not for some FreeLance client," I laughed. "What time is Justin coming over?" I walked down to the kitchen, Lance right behind me, and got a can of Pepsi from the fridge.
"He said he'd try and be here by 7."
"OK. Thanks for telling me, by the way."
Lance frowned. "Didn't I tell you?" I shook my head silently. "But I'm sure I...damn, I'm getting old!"
I laughed. "Yeah, well, wait until you hit 23, then you'll have something to complain about."
Lance stood up. "OK, old man, I guess it's time for me to quit the old folks' home and head on down to the home of youthful exuberance that is mine and Just's house."
I pointed to the door. "Out!" I had to smile.
"Alright, alright," Lance replied, wrapping me in a hug from behind. "You take care, you hear? Don't let Just walk all over you like he normally does."
"He does not! I can keep him under control!" I insisted. Lance cleared his throat noisily and began drumming his fingers on my shoulders. I gave in. "All right, I know, I always let him have his way. You know how he gets, so into everything, I feel like an old party-pooper if I have to dampen his enthusiasm. You, of all people, should know what I mean."
"I do. He can be really persistent when he needs to be. And powerful, and insatiable, and innovative..." Lance's fingers stopped tapping finally, and I could just feel I was intruding into a really personal moment.
"I thought you had to go," I managed.
Lance let go of me and stepped away. Without looking I could tell he was blushing. "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, Josh."
"Nope, Wednesday, remember?" I questioned. Lance shook his head. "Furniture shopping!" I exclaimed.
"Oh, that! Yeah, but I was gonna come over tomorrow morning and hang with ya, Just too."
"Well, I'm not going to be here, and I don't like the thought of you two alone in my apartment. I can just imagine what you'd wind up doing, and where," I made Lance blush. Yay!
"Where are you gonna be?"
I thought fast. "Dentist's appointment."
"Oh, OK." Lance's face fell. "See you Wednesday, then, I guess."
"Lance?" He looked over at me again. "Thanks for coming over so quick. You really are the best friend I could ever ask for. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Lance shrugged. "I love you, Josh. I'd do anything for you."
I came over all mushy again, and gathered Lance in a hug again so he wouldn't see my tears. "Thanks, Lance. I love you, too." I let out a deep breath. "Now, get going! I bet Clarence is already there, ready to pee his pants over meeting you!"
Lance smiled and picked his keys up off the stand. "I seriously doubt that. I think Clarence would be quite happy having a romantic dinner by candlelight, alone with his pocket calculator." He smiled and opened the door. "Bye, Josh."
"Bye, Lance," I said, taking the door from him. I closed it softly after he had disappeared around the corner in the corridor, and sat down on an armchair in silence. A couple of minutes later I heard Lance's car start, and heard it drive off down the road.
Leaving the apartment awfully quiet.
CHAPTER THREE
I sat for a minute without knowing what to do. Normally I'd try and find something to clean, but Lance, bless him, had taken care of the kitchen and the living-room. Sean and I had cleaned the bathroom together a couple of days ago, so no need there, either. And I was anything but a neat freak.
I would have liked to have read a little, maybe even a newspaper, but there was nothing around to read - I may as well have been in a doctor's surgery. So, I did what any normal, world conscious guy do to catch up on the daily news - I flipped on CNN.
And, you know, there's a whole other world out there, some of which has absolutely nothing to do with pop music. That world was still turning in its own indomitable fashion, independent of what happened in my own world. I saw there was famine in Ethiopia again, war in Chechnya, a tornado in Oklahoma. Why was it that those places only ever made the news when something terrible happened? The tragedy of it was that I'd heard of them at all. Much better if they'd gone on in peaceful, plentiful unknownness.
I hadn't intended to alleviate the seriousness of my own problems, but I'd gone and done it anyway. A broken heart was nothing. Well, comparatively. It had, rather perversely, done me good to see pain and suffering in other parts of the world. I had a home; I had family; I had friends - I was more than comfortably well-off.
I sat through a report on the new King of Jordan, then switched off the TV, having satisfactorily discharged my duties as a World Citizen, and reminding myself of all I had to be thankful for in the process.
Now what to do? Logic insisted that, with Justin coming over, I prepare some kind of food. Even if we got a pizza or something for dinner, we'd still get through some snack or other when he got here. Scouring the kitchen for prospects, it looked like chips were going to have to do. I poured some seasoned potato wedges from a packet onto an oven tray and put them in at the prescribed temperature - now that's cooking the way I like it! I put a few more cans of soda in the fridge, then washed my hands. Just as I shut the taps off, the doorbell intercom buzzed briefly, letting me know someone was downstairs.
I quickly towelled off my hands. Crap, Justin was way early! I picked up my watch from the counter. Only 6.15! I turned and jogged into the silent lounge room, which...was a little odd. Justin would normally have sat on the buzzer until I let him in. Joey would always buzz two short, two long, Chris would always buzz some little ditty for me to guess - 'buzz, buzz, buzz-buzz buzz...buzz, buzz!' and Lance had a key, so he normally wouldn't bother buzzing at all. My family would definitely have called ahead, I knew. I shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps Justin had brought Britney along, and was on best behaviour.
I touched the 'On' button, and as the video monitor warmed up, pushed the button to unlock the door. "Come on up, Justin," I spoke into the microphone. I held the button for a few more seconds then hung up, stepping across to unlock my front door and leave it slightly ajar. I'd sat back down in an armchair before the buzzer went off again. I pushed myself to my feet, muttering under my breath.
I got to the intercom and switched it on again. "God, Justin, how long do you want?" I held the unlock button for a full ten seconds while the monitor continued to brighten.
"Uh...my name's not Justin," I heard as the monitor reached full brightness and I saw the one face I'd expected never to see again.
My mind was on delay for a second. Then, in an instant, I pulled my finger off the button and reached over to push the door closed, instinctively locking the deadbolt.
I gave thanks for the fact that it wasn't a two-way video link, because I had very little control over my facial expression. It hurt me so bad to see that face.
"Josh?" he asked. "Can we..."
I put a stop to it. "Iain, right?" I saw him nod slowly. "All your stuff is in the garbage bags behind you. Take them and get out before I call security." I saw him turn around as I hit the 'Off' button and the screen fell dark. I leaned back against the wall, holding my breath against the hope that he would just pick up his belongings and get the hell out. I felt my pulse racing as I prayed for Justin to hurry. The buzzer buzzed again.
"What?" I yelled as soon as I'd punched the button.
"Josh, can we please talk? Can I please come up...?"
"What, you didn't hit me hard enough this morning? Looking for another go, were you? Or did you just have something in your throat that you wanted to get rid of?"
Now that the screen was bright, I saw him cringe and shake his head. "Josh, I am incredibly sorry for that. I may have overreacted this morning..."
"MAY HAVE?" I yelled. "MAY HAVE? Fucking hell! No way, you had your chance to react, and I don't take that shit from anyone! For the last time get the hell out of here! The cops are on their way!"
I hit the 'Off' button and walked away. I was lying about having called the police, of course. Some part of me was resisting, probably some bullshit macho hang-up about sorting out my own problems without asking for help. Whatever it was, he called my bluff and buzzed again. I ignored it. It buzzed again, and this time it didn't stop buzzing. I ran to my stereo and hit play on the CD, cranking the volume to drown out the buzzing.
Two seconds later, the opening notes of 'Baby, One more time' blasted through the apartment. I didn't know what the hell had happened until I finally figured it out: Lance had to have music to vacuum to, and Britney always was a favourite. It was probably the funniest scene of my life so far, but I was in no mood to appreciate the humour. All I could do was groan in disgust, the irony not lost on me. I tried to stick it out, but Britney just wasn't blocking out the buzz at all. It easily cut through the faux instruments and drum machine, and seemed to ring all the louder in my ears because of them. Echoing around in my skull, reminding me of all the pain I'd felt this morning, but also of all the happy times in the preceding months...all with that annoying boppy track playing underneath. Britney, I could never say this to your face, but...I hate you so much right now!
I had to get outside. If I heard Britney invite me to hit her one more time, I was likely to have taken her literally next time I saw her. I pulled the balcony door back firmly and stepped outside into the near-darkness, and felt my pulse calm a little as cooler air rushed around me. Britney was still belting out her signature tune louder than God ever intended, but at least I couldn't hear that awful electronic buzz. It soon became apparent why.
"Josh!"
I risked a glance over the railing, certain that I wouldn't be seen. The asshole was on the patch of lawn between the building and the sidewalk. I snapped my head back quickly when I saw him look up.
"Josh! I know you can hear me! Don't ask me how, but I know you're listening!"
I pressed myself up against the cool glass of the balcony door. Streetlights cast an irregular pattern of light and dark on the street below, as did the lights twinkling on the hill a couple of miles away. I wondered again where Justin was. 'All right,' I thought, 'say your spiel, then fuck off.'
"Josh...I don't even know your surname, but I know you. I know you haven't called the police. I know you're as sick of hearing that song as I am. And I know that I'm a hundred times more stubborn than you'll ever be!"
Damn it. Right on all three.
"I'm staying down here for as long as it takes, Josh. I don't care how long I have to wait - I've got enough changes of clothing to last a month down here. Please can we talk? The intercom is fine, that's all I want. Please?"
God, how my heart wanted to give him the chance.
But I knew I shouldn't.
Still...
"Josh?...Please!"
I shut my eyes and sighed. When I opened my eyes, my feet were moving. I guess that was my decision made.
I walked inside and across to the stereo to shut Britney off, then moved over to stand at the intercom by the door. After several seconds it buzzed. Short and succinct. I could hear a pleading tone in it though, I swear. I took a few seconds, cleared my throat, ran my hand through my hair out of habit, and pushed the 'On' button.
Nobody spoke. The screen grew brighter and brighter, and now I could see him staring into the camera with what he hoped was an apologetic expression. And, damn it, it was.
"What?" I demanded in a voice I hoped didn't give away my nerves.
"Josh...Thankyou," he sighed.
"Get on with it."
"Josh, I am really, deeply sorry for what I did to you. I won't ever let myself forget it, and I certainly wouldn't dare to ask you for forgiveness..."
"Get on with it," I interrupted. "Say what you came her to say."
His left hand pinched the bridge of his nose, like Sean had always done when he was flustered. That little gesture really unsettled me, and I was again glad of the fact that he couldn't see me.
"Josh, I...God. This is going to sound so stupid. Josh, I wish I'd never woken up this morning."
I stared hard at the glowing monitor, scanning his face for proof of his lie. I was disappointed.
"Josh, after I left here this morning, do you know where I went?" That's gotta be rhetorical. "I went to the house where I used to live with my wife. I'm sorry, I don't even know if I took the right car. Is mine the Honda?...OK, well...when I got there, I saw her car parked out front, so I knew she was home. I ran to the door and knocked on it, and...some guy opened the door. The long and short of it, Josh...she remarried. And she sent our kids to live with my sister in Atlanta. I thought I knew this woman! It was so humiliating, they didn't even let me inside, we had our entire 'conversation' on the doorstep. They were deliberately blocking the door. She just didn't care! All she asked was what had happened to me, which I didn't really know, and where I'd been, which...Josh, I'm going to be honest...I was too embarrassed to admit to." I cringed. That really wasn't... "I know, that really wasn't what you wanted to hear, and I'm sorry, but I'm being honest with you, right?" I nodded dumbly.
"The only thing she said to me that I can remember was: "Well, wherever the hell you've been, it looks like you were well looked-after." He sighed. "Josh, I've had those words pounding in my head all day. That and the squeaky sound the door made as she closed it in my face, after handing me a box holding the last of my things that she hadn't thrown out.
"I really couldn't say where I've been since. I parked in a supermarket lot for a while, but then an inspector came along so I had to move. I sat in a park for most of the afternoon, trying to comprehend what has happened to me.
"Josh, this has been the worst day of my entire life. And I'm not using that as an excuse for hitting you, because that is inexcusable. That's a part of what made the day so awful, right from the start. Factor in my ex-wife's attitude, and the fact that I didn't get to see my kids, as well as the frustration of having this huge gap in my memory, and...well, it's pretty fucked, Josh.
"I spent hours on that park bench, Josh. Overlooking the lake. Thinking about my old life...my wife...ex-wife. God, it's not even two years ago! I thought we'd be together for our whole lives, but she's reduced me and everything we shared to a half-full box of crap in less than two years! And she got rid of the kids so she could marry this new guy. And...well, I don't know if I should really tell you this, but...honesty, right? I thought...I couldn't help thinking that, just from the five minutes I knew you this morning before I hit you and disgraced myself, I got the impression that you really did love me, that you wouldn't have moved on...ever. Not in two years, not in two thousand years. I think maybe Sean might have been a better judge of character than I ever was." He paused. "I'm sorry, I knew I shouldn't have said that."
Before I could reply I heard the building door open and saw it swing into the left of the camera's field-of-view. Oh, shit. I could see it was Mrs Mickelson from the fifth floor. We'd looked after her cat back in October when she went to visit her sister in Arizona, and she'd been super-friendly since.
"How are you this evening, Sean?" I heard her ask.
"I'm fine, thankyou...maam," he replied, pinching the bridge of his nose discreetly.
Mrs Mickelson pretended to be offended. "Young man, how many times must I tell you to call me Deidre? I think we know each other plenty well enough, don't you?"
He smiled. "Sorry, Deidre."
She continued to hold the door open. "Well, weren't you coming in?" I held my breath.
"Uh, no, I was...I was just checking something with Josh, actually," he indicated the intercom.
"Oh! Hello, Joshua!" Mrs Mickelson cried directly into the microphone, and putting her face right in front of the camera.
I sighed quietly. "Hello, Mrs...Deidre."
"Dear boy," she muttered, then turning to face him, "You know you're so lucky to have found Joshua, don't you?"
Oh, honestly. Could this become any more ridiculous? I heard the door click shut over my mental activity, and felt something within me lighten. He'd respected me. He'd had more than ample opportunity to barge in here, if that was what he wanted, but instead he'd respected my right to let in whomever I allowed. For the first time, I considered the possibility of letting him come up. Now if only he could get rid of...Deidre, we could talk...
"OK, Deidre, I'll look forward to hearing about that tomorrow, maybe. You have fun at bowling tonight, you hear? Bye now." Mrs Mickelson finally exited, camera right. He wiped his brow. "Sorry about that, Josh."
"It's not your fault," I spoke up. "It was my idea to take this apartment, so it's really my fault, I guess."
"Really?" he smiled. "Thanks, Josh. Um...I'll try and be brief, OK? Despite what I said before, I'm not here asking you to love me or to take me back, because I'm not the person you were in a relationship with. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, either, because I know I don't come close to deserving it. All I'm asking is...can we talk for a little while? I really want to find out what I was doing for the past year and a half, and I figure you're probably the best person to ask about that, right? It's just so frustrating, not knowing, Josh. And, well...maybe we could become friends again? I know I've got a nerve to ask, but...I really don't have anyone else. My ex-wife and I used to keep to ourselves a lot. So, even though I don't deserve that much for what I did to you, Josh, I'm begging you. Here, I'm down on my knees." He dropped off the screen for a second, then waved his hands up in front of the camera. "Please, Josh? I need to have some explanation, for my kids as much as for me." He drew a breath, a deep one since I could hear it over the intercom. "That's all I'm going to say. It's all up to you now, Josh." I almost thought I heard him crying.
Well, what to do? I believed what he'd said...for some stupid reason. I trusted that he wouldn't use his kids as an excuse just to force his way in here. He definitely was sorry, that much was easy to see. But...God, this was too outrageous. He didn't deserve it, did he? But then again, he hadn't deserved to have the rest of his life fall apart, either. Hadn't he maybe had enough hardship for one day?
Then it occurred to me that...I owed it to him. Or to Sean's memory, anyway. If this person had anything to do with the happiness Sean had given me in our year together, then I owed it to him to give him a chance.
Or was I just apologising for a criminal thug?
I turned and leaned against the wall next to the intercom. I knew what I had to do. I'd like to tell you that it was only from pity, but I think, deep down, my heart still kept alive some small store of love for him - for Sean, at least - and it was probably that as much as anything which made my mind up.
I sighed. Reaching out my left hand across my body, I felt for the button I wanted, and pushed it firmly.
Bzzzzzzzzz.......
OK, folks - what did you think? I really need to hear your thoughts on this one, really really really.
Now, in case anyone was about to email me about it - yes, I know amnesia doesn't really work like that - hey, I did research for this story! - but given Hollywood and soap operas and everything, I think it works. But I need to hear your views. Like - should this become a series? Did you like it enough? I'm really open to ideas on this one, it's much less personal than my other story, 'Some Kind of Bliss' - sorry, just exercising my constitutional, nay, god-given right to cross-promote. :) You might like to take a look at that story if you haven't already.
I need to say a big thankyou to several people. First, to everyone who's mailed me about SKoB. Thanks a whole bundle, you really make it easier to write. The biggest hellos have to go to Drew and Adam, who pretty much form my 'editorial committee'. :) If you've enjoyed this story at all, odds are it's largely due to their efforts. You guys are the coolest! Also to my other author buddies, namely DLS, Lucas, Seth, Mike Ellis: you're wonderful people who I really should reply to much more quickly than I do. Humblest apologies. And Drew? I look forward to seeing your name join that last category soon. :)
That's it for now, this is becoming a whole vanity thing. I promise you I'm in no way related to anyone named Gwyneth. :) Go read some of the other brilliant stories on the archive - if you're short of a good story to read, you've only to email me and I'll be too happy to suggest a few. But I think most of you would have found the best stories by now. You've obviously developed a discerning eye if you read this the whole way through! Just joshin', guys. I'm not that arrogant. :)
I know, I know. I'm kidding myself if I think anyone's reading this far down. So I'll just say - prove me wrong and email me! braan90@hotmail.com Ciao for now. :)