The elevator door opened soundlessly and they stepped into the lushly carpeted car. Justin had over-tipped the valet, asking the college kid in the grey and gold jacket to park the car far from any others in the lot. He was still brooding about handing over the keys when JC flashed an evil smile.

“Sorry, J. Cadillacs are for old timers and posers. Kid Rock has a fleet of them.”

The doors slid open again and JC quickened his step. After his last comment, he knew that Justin would want blood. They had been to the offices in Century City before, but not often nearly enough to be familiar with the permanent architectural hazards. JC had lost a step dodging a small statue that had blended too well with the color of the carpet, then misjudged the size of a planter just outside the suite of offices where the meeting was being held. Justin made a quick move, inserting himself between JC and the ornate wooden door.

“You're trashin' my wheels, is that it?”

The door behind them openly suddenly and they fell over the threshhold, into the room. JC maneuvered past Justin, leaving him to make their apologies to the startled secretary who had hustled away without looking back. They were still laughing, breathing hard from the scuffle in the hallway, when voices coming from the other room got louder. JC turned toward the sound. It was hard to tell the voices apart. Everyone seemed to be talking at the same time. He looked at Justin and shrugged, then walked toward the door. As they stepped inside the room, four faces turned their way. Each looked exactly the way they had sounded.

Anxious. And confused.

JC pulled at the hem of his shirt, straightening it, then pointed at the empty chairs at the end of the table.

“ We're not late, are we? What's going on?”

The question went unanswered as Johnny Wright closed the door behind them. JC sat down next to Justin and looked around the room. The scene felt oddly familiar. It wasn't this office. Or this city. But everything else was the same.

Even the date.

Almost two years ago to the day.

-::-

They’d been late that day too. Johnny was already talking when they sat down.

“RCA says they won’t piss in their own tent. They'd like to offer you something, but they can't.”

JC closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, angry that their manager had brought them all the way downtown for this. More disappointment. Johnny Wright looked at JC briefly, then kept talking.

“I promised that I wouldn’t keep you in the dark. It’s rough right now. I know you’re stressed out. And tired of touring.”

“And broke,” Chris chimed in angrily.

He pushed his chair away from the table and walked into the outer office. The others huddled briefly before leaving the room, all but Justin who motioned for JC to wait. Their manager spoke quietly to his assistant and then returned to the conference room, locking the door behind him, a cloak-and-dagger move not lost on either one of them. They exchanged glances and then perched on the edge of the conference table, side-by-side.

Johnny Wright pulled at his tie, then walked to the window that overlooked the plaza and the parking lot below. He stood there for a long moment before speaking. When he turned back around, his demeanor had changed.

“Okay. That wasn’t the whole story. We do have a bite.”

The faces at the table brightened but Johnny raised his hand, tempering their excitement.

“Barry Weiss has his own agenda with Lou Pearlman, which is none of our concern, but yes, JIVE is willing to take you on.”

Justin’s youthful exuberance got the best of him and he literally jumped onto their manager. JC on the other hand was skeptical.

“It can’t be all good news or they’d still be here,” he said gesturing toward the closed door.

The older man pulled one of the chairs closer to the conference table and sat down. When he looked back up, JC saw something strange in his eyes. Johnny rubbed his hands together nervously, then spoke again.

“When’s the last time either of you read my contract?”

"Your contract? With us?” JC had already grown impatient. "Why?"

“Bear with me, JC. Basically it’s a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo that defines my responsibility to the group. Specifically, it includes the ‘Promote and Protect’ clause.”

JC nodded, but Justin looked lost. Johnny reached across the table and picked up a pack of cigarettes, tapping the edge of the pack on his hand.

“For you Justin, it’s the most important part. Donna called it ‘The Backstreet Clause.’ It basically says that I can’t be your manager if I don’t look out for your best interests. No matter how I feel personally.”

Johnny Wright had once managed both NSYNC and The Backstreet Boys. When NSYNC's star began to rise, he had had to make a choice. It had not been easy, but it was all behind them now. Justin looked at JC and shrugged, then he looked back at Johnny Wright. Johnnyy had been staring at JC, but when Justin caught his eye, he lit the cigarette, took a long drag then let out a stream of smoke that seemed to fill the air.

“Okay, here it is. JIVE wants two contracts. A standard one with the group and a separate one with just you two. It’s not that unusual. I mean there are drug riders on practically every big name in the business today. You know that. And you two are the franchise, so it’s no surprise for them to be paying special attention to you.”

Justin’s quick temper gave way.

“We’re not a risk for that kind of thing. What the hell's that?”

Justin looked again at JC who was studying their manager with narrowed eyes. When he spoke, his voice was low and emotionless.

"That’s not it, is it? What do they want?”

Johnny took another drag, then stubbed the cigarette out slowly, grinding it into the ashtray. He kept his eyes on the table as he spoke.

“In everyday language? They want the two of you keep your hands off each other for the life of the contract.”

It took a minute for what he was saying to register. The room got very quiet. Then Justin slid off the table and walked out, never looking back at either one of them.

Johnny watched him leave, then shook his head sadly.

“I'm sorry, JC. Really sorry. But I represent all five members of the group. And in their best interest, I recommend that you and Justin find a way to sign this thing. JIVE knows what you’re worth and they’re willing to pay for it. They just want a little insurance.”

JC started toward the door, stumbling as he passed the chair where their manager had been sitting. Johnny reached out to steady him.

“I feel like hell, JC. What can I do?”

JC slipped his sunglasses over his eyes and pulled his arm away.

“You can kiss my ass.”

He rode an empty elevator down to the lobby and then walked the short distance to his car. In that brief span of time, JC had accepted the fact that he would eventually have to do it. He owed it to the others and he wanted the life he’d worked so hard for.

He just had no idea how he would ever face Justin again once it was done.

-::-

A message was already waiting when he got home.

JC had driven straight there, thankful for the first time in his life that he’d moved out of the house he’d once shared with Justin and Chris. He’d thought at first that he might just go home, pack his car and leave Orlando altogether. At 22 he could still fit in on a college campus. But Maryland wasn’t home anymore either. It had occurred to him as he pulled in the driveway that he didn’t really belong anywhere. He’d spent four years working for Disney, then four more years on the road. The only home he really knew was with Justin. They’d always been together. But that was no longer a given. Not after today.

He stared at the blinking light on the answering machine. But instead of playing it back, he'd laid down on the couch, and stretched out his lean body. Within minutes he was asleep.

~

It was dark by the time he woke up and it took JC a minute to realize where he was and why he was laying there.

And that the phone was ringing.

He stared at the answering machine as Justin's voice filled the room.

You know what? Maybe it’s no big deal. I’m going out for a while, but give me a call. Ciao.

Sober acceptance was the last thing he’d expected from Justin. JC closed his eyes again and scrubbed his face with his hands. Then he rewound the tape. The first message had been recorded almost four hours ago.

I say we forget it and go back to Nashville. Just the two of us. Call me.

JC smiled at the sound of his carefree voice. Typical Justin. Two different ends of the universe on the same day. JC stumbled into the kitchen and flipped on the light. They could go back to Nashville. He still had the demo they'd done in '94, Heart in a Headlock. They'd shopped the song to every label in town, but nobody wanted to take a chance. Kurt Cobain had died. Harry Nilsson. Even Cab Calloway. Everyone wanted to talk about the losses to the music industry, but no one was interested in putting new music on the street.

Then a guy named Chris Kirkpatrick had called.

They were both young, but Justin was so young. Still, they hadn't given it a second thought. They'd packed up and moved to Orlando. All they cared about was making music and being together. Nothing else had mattered. JC felt suddenly overwhelmed, remembering the moment they knew they could have both. Now part of it was going away.

The phone rang again, and JC almost picked it up. It was Justin, but neither of the two Justins who had called before. This Justin was angry.

Listen. Scratch what I said. There’s no way in hell I’m signing that thing. Don’t do it. Okay? Don’t.

JC listened until the tape ran out, then reached down and unplugged the phone from the wall. Justin's voice still filled his head. He'd been blithe, almost casual about it. Then he'd sounded lost. Now, he was ready to fight, to stand his ground. He just wanted JC to say that it was allright, that they would do this together too.

JC turned off the light in the kitchen and walked slowly down the hall, feeling his way in the darkness.

~

Over the next 36 hours, the messages kept coming, changing color and hue until there was nothing left to say. JC had left answering machines and their small cassette tapes behind long ago, but it made no difference at all. He knew each of the messages that Justin had left by heart.

The ones that had begged him to pick up.

That said that money and fame meant nothing.

That had, in the end, called him a liar and a cheat.

A coward who had left Justin alone to sign away his life, so that a pop music group could go on.

-::-

The LA sun beat against the window and Johnny Wright motioned for Joey to close the blinds behind him. JC nervously circled the lip of a styrofoam cup with his fingers. He knew where this meeting was headed. Chris obviously did not.

“So what is it this time? Joey’s criminal record finally surface?”

Lance sighed loudly, then checked his watch.

“C’mon, Johnny. This is a national holiday and for once, we actually have it off. I’d like to get out of here. What’s this about?”

When there was no reply, Lance looked to the others for support. Chris banged the table loudly with his fist. When Johnny finally turned his way, Chris spoke slowly as if in a foreign tongue.

“We-no-get-it.”

Joey giggled, but Chris got more serious.

“Okay. Enough with the intrigue. The bottom-feeders are obviously on to something. Is this a need-to-know item, minor nuisance, full page in The Star, or what?"

Johnny moved his coffee cup aside and pushed a thick manila envelope Chris's way.

“I have to admit their timing is good. A couple high profile appearances coming up, the Rolling Stone cover. And they've got. . .”

Lance filled in the blank soberly, ". . . something juicy on one of us.”

Johnny nodded and finished what he had started to say.

“If it's uploaded to their site at midnight, we're guessing two million hits in the first twelve hours. That’s probably a low ball figure considering the holiday.”

Joey whistled through his teeth and JC looked at Justin for the first time since Johnny Wright had started talking. He was staring out the tinted window that opened onto the other tower at Century City. His body looked relaxed, legs crossed out in front, his head dropped casually to one side. It was one of the few times in his life that JC wished that he didn’t know Justin so well.

JC stared back at the cup in his hand. Without even looking, he knew what came next: Justin stretching the skin at the corner of his eye. Pulling at it like a cat’s whisker, over and over again. Unaware that it was even happening. Unable to stop even if he’d wanted to. Private pain making its way through his body and out the long, thick fingers of his hand.

A sudden knock on the door took Johnny out of the room and Justin turned to look at JC. He waited until JC looked up, then nodded toward the door. They walked out into the hallway silently. When they were far enough away, Justin stopped, leaning one shoulder against the wall.

“Looks like somebody else wants to bust my balls. I'm sorry they're dragging you into it.”

JC checked over his shoulder, then stepped closer, making Justin look up at him.

“It’s not just about you.“ JC searched his face for a minute. “It isn’t.”

Justin started to speak, then looked beyond JC to where Johnny had stepped out into the hallway. Justin nodded at him, then looked back at JC.

“Listen. If you want to take off, I can handle this. There’s no reason for both of us to sit through it again.”

JC shook his head slowly ansd smiled.

"I'm with you, remember?"

Justin stared at him, then nodded silently. JC slipped an arm around his waist and Justin let himself be pulled in. JC felt the deep breath Justin took and he squeezed his own eyes shut. They had come so far. This was no cheap conference room in an Orlando business park. This was the 30th floor of a high-priced law firm in LA. That part of it was still hard to believe. But what was more remarkable than that was that nothing else had ever really changed. There was still this space, this place where he and Justin Timberlake existed, away from everything else in their lives. A place they never talked about. Not even to deny its existence. Even to each other.

~

As they walked back into the room, JC looked at Justin and something unspoken passed between them. If there was a copy of that contract out there, the one they had both signed so that NSYNC could go on, then so be it. It was time that the others knew what they had done, the silent sacrifice they'd made.

JC had just gotten what he wanted to say straight in his head when Chris started talking instead, gesturing wildly as he did. Before him on the conference table was the manila envelope, now empty, and an array of black and white pictures. There was no contract in sight and the pictures were clearly not of Justin or JC.

Chris was comically indignant.

“Look. What’s done is done. Unless there’s a major earthquake or some sicko takes out a K-Mart in Iowa, tomorrow everyone in the known universe will have copies up by noon. Big fucking deal.”

Lance was hysterical with laughter.

“You posed in the nude? On a tiger skin rug?”

He lifted one of the photos by its edge, examining it closely. Chris snatched the picture away.

“Don't say in the nude. I was naked, okay? You're just jealous cause I had a good body.”

Joey was bent over the other pictures, rearranging them like the pieces of a puzzle.

“What year was this again?”

Chris pushed Joey away from the table, then scooped up the remaining photographs and forced them back into the envelope.

“What kind of question is that? And for your information, it was good money. More than you were making at the time, Wolfman.”

Chris glared at Joey, then looked from one amused face to another until he reached the end of the table. JC plunged his hands into his pockets, trying to look serious. Inside he was a roman candle, throwing sparks in every direction. And he wasn't alone. Justin had moved to Chris's side and was slapping him on the back, shaking his hand like he'd just won the lottery.

JC caught his eye and nodded toward the door. As they reached the hallway, Lance's voice was already filling the room. He was on the phone, making a pre-emptive strike.

"Just tell them we have no comment at this time."

-::-

The ride back through the hills above Hollywood was quiet, an odd bookend to how the day had begun. Justin slipped Etta James into the CD player and JC tapped rhythmically on his knee, but neither of them spoke.

In the driveway Justin left the engine running, not quite sure what to do. When JC opened his door, the words spilled out of their own accord.

“Can I ask you something?”

JC turned back and nodded silently.

“Did you ever think about not signing it?”

JC blinked, not sure what Justin wanted to hear. They had never talked about it, had just gone about the business of their lives pretending none of it had ever happened. Or perhaps thinking that one day, it would just come out and they would deal with it then. That day had never come.

Now that it was finally here, JC decided to keep his answer simple.

He nodded and waited for Justin to respond. When he looked away without saying anything else, JC slid out of the car. He looked back back once after closing the door, but Justin still had not moved. He was almost to the gate when Justin honked. JC looked back. Justin was still behind the wheel, but he was beckoning with his hand, motioning for JC to come to him. JC walked to his side of the car.

Justin pulled his glasses down and stared at him for moment before before speaking.

“So what happens next time?”

JC felt his heart start to pound. It was so loud in his ears, he was sure that Justin could hear it. He swallowed hard to make certain he could talk, then stopped himself. In place of a serious answer, JC cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

“Next time, what?”

Justin searched his face, then shook his head.

“You’re a real asshole, Chasez.”

JC grinned again. “So I’ve been told.”

Justin studied him for a minute, then pushed his glasses back up on his nose and put the car in gear.

“Nevermind.”

JC hesitated, thinking Justin was kidding, but when the car started to roll back, he stepped away, confused by what had just happened. He was opening the gate when he stopped. They had gotten to this point only once before. Justin had been asking then for a sign, some indication that JC was ready to go. JC had been afraid then and it had cost him everything. Now Justin was asking that same question again, and he was making the same mistake.

He pulled the gate closed and turned back so suddenly that he almost stumbled over his own feet. When he finally looked up, he saw Justin standing in the driveway, keys in hand. This time he was smiling.

“I've seen enough of Chris's white ass to hold me for life, but there might be something else on that site worth seeing. Want to check it out?”

JC leaned down mechanically, picking the paper up off the drive that had caused him to stumble. He handed it to Justin and smiled.

“What's in it for me?

Justin pulled off his glasses and for a moment they locked eyes. JC felt wonderfully nervous and alive, struggling to control the images racing through his head his head. Justin in Florida all those years ago. In Germany. Nashville. Everything they'd been through. He felt his eyes start to burn and he finally looked away. Justin followed him through the gate. At the door, JC fumbled with his keys. This time when he smiled, there was no uncertainty, no pretense. There was nothing but truth, in his eyes, on his lips as he spoke.

“I would say no.”

Justin seemed both bold and shy at the same time. “No, what JC?”

“If they asked again, this time I'd say no.”

Justin dipped his head slowly and JC leaned into him. Suddenly kissing Justin seemed so right, like something he'd done a thousand times before. There was nothing awkward or confusing about it. No phone left ringing because he was afraid. Just a hand on his hip. The brush of his lips. It all felt right.

They walked through the house to the kitchen and JC dropped his phone and keys on the counter. Justin left the paper on a chair by the door, then opened two bottles of beer and handed one to JC before walking out on the patio. JC watched as he settled into the chair he always seemed to favor. The one on the right. It had all seemed so natural, a part of his everyday life.

Tomorrow they would start again and maybe it wouldn't seem as simple and perfect as it did at this moment. But tonight there was dinner from the Chinese restaurant down the street and a couple of lost hours on the internet, courtesy of Chris Kirkpatrick and his tiger skin rug. Beyond that, there was the simple joy of knowing that they weren't looking back anymore, wondering what might have been. There was a present now and a future.

They might not kiss again tonight or even tomorrow, but at least now there was the promise of it.

And a chance at the life they'd always wanted to live, the one JC had thought was gone.

A life that would would outlast any contract ever written.

Because it wasn't about this year or next. It was about always.

Always and forever.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________