This story is purely fictional and it's not suggesting anything about the sexuality of either N'Sync or Backstreet Boys. I am not trying to imply that either one of the band members is homosexual or bisexual. I also do not suggest this story to anyone who is offended by erotic homosexual stories or who is under the age of eighteen.
As soon as the door closed behind Lance, I could feel their eyes on me. We spent next few minutes trying not to look like we're purposely staring at each other, while dead silence enveloped the room. The one with faded red hair was staring at me so openly that I almost laughed to myself. Besides looking like a five-year-old, I could have also seen him as the joker of the band. The person to cheer you up when you have a bad day, and who is always ready to borrow you some money when you're broke. There was kindness in his face, and my first thought was that I'd enjoy being his friend. He just seemed like the person to whom you can completely trust, and in the same time, never get bored with. The other one was obviously hangover. He looked washed out and dead tired, while bags under his eyes clearly showed that he got little or no sleep the night before. There was nothing kind or friendly in him; his look showed that he disliked me from the beginning, which didn't bother me at all. The last thing I expected is for any one of them to like me. Trying to escape the silence, the guy with red hair cleared his throat asking: "Um...so, what did you say your name was?" "Kevin." "Oh, OK. Well, I'm Joey and this is Chris." "Um...nice to meet you." "Yeah, same here." I could hear the yelling outside and I knew that the voice didn't belong to Lance. Guys heard it too, but they just looked at each other without any expression on their faces. Joey tried to cover the yelling by keeping the conversation, while Chris just sat there like he didn't give a shit about any of it: "So...Kevin, what kind of job will you be doing?" "I'm not sure. Lance mentioned bodyguarding, but I'm not sure if he meant it or not." "Bodyguarding?" Joey looked more surprised than I was at the idea: "Bodyguarding who?" "Someone named Justin, I guess." At that point they were both staring at me intensely. "And you said Lance hired you?" "Yeah." "Why would he hire you without talking to us first?" I just shrugged my shoulders. I barely understood why, besides I knew that it wasn't my job to explain his actions. Yelling outside died down and few seconds later, Lance walked in the room. His face was rock hard and wasn't showing any emotions whatsoever. His eyes were crystal clear though, and they were the only sign showing how close he actually was to crying. I doubted that guys noticed it, considering that they weren't even looking at him. Pushing my hands deeper in my pockets, I looked at him expecting anything. He wasn't the one who started talking though; Chris' voice surprised us all: "What's the deal Lance?" Lance swallowed hard but his voice came out surprisingly strong and clear: "There's no deal. I hired Kevin to bodyguard for Justin so that J.C. could get a break from time to time. I guess I was wrong for not talking to J.C. first." "Just J.C.? What, do we do not count any more? You can't just go out and hire anyone without consulting all of us; you couldn't do something like that even if everything was the way it used to be. Which is not, if you didn't notice." I really didn't want to hear any of it. They obviously did their best to make me feel as uncomfortable as humanly possible, talking about me like I wasn't standing right there and was able to understand every single word they were saying. Staring at Lance, I realized that he wasn't in much better position than me. There was something about him that reminded me of myself, only I couldn't really place a finger on it. I could see that every Chris' word hurt him but he was more than excellent at not showing how he feels. His hands were buried deep in his pockets and I could have sworn that he was gripping the insides of his pockets. When his spoke, his voice was still emotionless: "I know, and you're right. I should have talked to you guys before actually doing anything. I guess I just wasn't thinking." His last words had a hint of bitterness, which disappeared as fast as it came. Joey must have felt as uncomfortable as I did because he asked quickly, before Chris could add anything: "OK, well what's going to happen now?" There was no response from anyone.
He picked up small picture from the old, wooden desk and sat on the bed next to it. Floor didn't have any carpets and windows stood naked without curtains, but still, room was spotless. His breathing was the only sound that showed there was living creature inside those walls. His dark brown eyes stared at the picture intensely, adding some secrecy to the whole scene, making it look like a ritual. The picture showed a blonde boy with beautiful eyes, standing alone in a river of trees, with his face in pure ecstasy and happiness caused simply by being alive. The frame of the picture looked like silver poison ivy, giving blonde's face even more unreal look. He stood up from the bed and walked over to the window, holding a picture in front of him like an icon. His tanned fingers, supple and long like spiders legs, caressed glass over blonde's face. Smile crept along his lips and he whispered softly: "Soon angel...soon."
The room was still dark although the first sun rays started hitting the ground. The curtains were pulled shut and the slow breathing of a man filled the room with some sort of familiarity. He slept peacefully, with a conscience of a man who did his job right and deserved to rest. On the night stand next to his bed lay open wallet with his drivers license and some money, while next to it lay a gun, partly covered by his shirt. The door of the room squeaked quietly but the man did not move an inch. His breathing showed that he was still asleep. The dark body, nimble as tiger's, moved slowly towards the bed while its shadow flew over the carpet. The sun ray sneaked in between the curtains and for a second shone over a face of a boy who could barely be fifteen years old. There was nothing boyish about his expression though, and while his face was cold, his eyes showed only determination and strong will. He stood at the bed for a couple of seconds, just observing the man who was still in deep sleep. Then his eyes fell on the night stand and he moved closer. Picking up the wallet he looked over the name on drivers license, whispering in one breath: "Paul O'Conner...so it is you." The man moved in his sleep and the boy froze in place, with the wallet still in his hands. He didn't dare to move until man's breathing became steady again. The he carefully returned the wallet on the night stand, and felt something cold under his fingers. Removing the sweatshirt, he focused his eyes on the object his hand touched, picking it up slowly. The sun ray sneaked in one more time, this time uncovering a gun in boy's hands. He stared at it for the longest time, trying not to look at the man, whose peaceful sleep was getting more and more ironic with every minute that passed by. Then he sighed deeply and taking the gun in his right hand, moved closer to the bed. He hesitated for a brief second, and then his hand moved towards man's mouth.
Justin lay on his bed with his eyes shut and his body wrapped in a soft blanket. He wasn't sleeping though, and the cold shivers shook his body although the room heat was close to 75. He had felt so incredibly weak for the past few days, but he didn't dare to say anything to either J.C. or Lance. They would just get upset and call a doctor, which was the last thing Justin wanted. They just didn't understand...they never did and they never will. They tried so hard to make him feel better but all they managed to do is make him feel like he was completely useless and uncapable of taking care of himself. Which he wasn't to some point. Still, the care J.C showed in the beginning changed into the tyranny, while he tried to control everything Justin did, from the time he went to bed, to the time he spent watching TV, to the amount of food he ate every day. That last thing irritated Justin the most. He didn't want someone to count the bites he takes during the every meal of the day...especially since he lost all his appetite. The meals became torture for him, while he was stuck in between the full plate that made him sick and J.C. face from which he couldn't escape. He stood up from the bed, and still wrapped up in his blanket, walked over to the shut window. What he really wanted to do is open the window and breathe in the fresh air, but it was too cold outside for something like that. Wind was blowing through the pine trees swiftly moving their branches, and Justin wanted to hear the rustling of the branches and humming of the sea, while the rooms deadly silence made him feel so desperate and alone. Thinking to himself: 'The hell with it,' he opened the window and let the cold air in. The smell of pine trees and sea filled his nostrils and he, barely feeling the cold wind, climbed over the edge of the window and sat on it letting his legs hang down the outside wall. There was something indescribably freeing about sitting that way and just letting his mind wander away. He closed his eyes and let the blanket fall down off his shoulders, and while wind made his body shake violently, he barely felt anything. Sharp voice made him almost lose balance: "Justin!! What the hell do you think you're doing!?!!"
End of chapter 6