Monday, January 1, 2001: Somewhere over Virginia

The airplane cut through the white puffs of clouds, leaving icy drops of moisture on the plexi-glass windows. Lance leaned against the window and shivered slightly as his cheek came in contact with the cold plastic. He wanted to go to sleep. He wanted to get rid of the headache that filled the space between his temples, the pounding, throbbing mass flesh that he at one point would have called a brain. He’d spaced out the man lecturing them from the aisle of the airplane completely and jumped to alertness when he heard a sharp tone calling his name.

"Lance."

Lance looked up and fixed his green eyes on the other blond on the plane. "What Wade?"

"You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve been saying and you’re probably the one who needs to listen to it the most."

Lance closed his eyes briefly in an effort to look like he was trying to reign in his temper. When he opened them, the lids were narrowed just enough to be menacing.

"Fuck off Wade."

The entire plane went silent before a muffled giggle was heard in the back. Wade walked up the aisle so he was standing by Lance’s seat.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

Lance rolled his eyes and cringed as pain shot through his head. He stared steadily at their choreographer. "What I said. I don’t want to talk about how I screwed up last night. I know I tripped over my foot. I know I wasn’t in step on that one move. I know I’m not a dancer, I wasn’t built to be a dancer, that I should never have joined a group where I have to dance every fucking day."

The plane went silent again. This time there was no hint of a giggle.

"I’ll be happy to talk shop with you when we land Wade," Lance drew out the younger man’s name, "but now I want time to contemplate the meaning of what you seem to think is a pointless existence and god forbid actually get some sleep."

Wade was silent.  His mouth opened and closed a few times before he sighed. "We’ll meet in the dance studio at five." He moved up to his seat beside Johnny. He turned around right before sitting down. "We’ll all meet at five."

Lance rested his head against the cold window again. His eyes drifted to the clouds floating by. He forced his lids shut and tried to mentally drown out the low hum of voices around him.

Happy New Years— or something like that, I guess. I should be happy it’s the new year. I’ve always talked about how the next millennium would be way too cool and would be our best year ever.

So where am I now? Sitting in the middle of Kansas trying to pretend I didn’t flip out last night when they were on TV. I was drunk. That’s all. I mean we’re not talking like normal pissed here, hell, we’re not even talking my normal drunk pissed. We’re talking like scene pissed. Maggie knew something was up. Icouldn’t have just held it in, could I? No, I had to go watch BBB and say fuck this shit and storm out.

Way to go Timberlake. Way to be subtle and not draw suspicion to yourself. Way to, um, something. Yeah.

I don’t know what my problem was. It was just the guys performing the same old routine. But it wasn’t the same old routine. It was different. And then Joey was singing my parts and it jut wasn’t right. He didn’t harmonize with Josh the same way I do. He just doesn’t have the inflections and the range, you know? It sounds different.

I’m sounding like I wanted to be there. Which I didn’t. Really. I don’t. But the New Years party at MTV is always really fun.

I had fun last night though. Stu had a party and Maggie and I went and we got to act like a couple for the first time in forever. Her parents are always around, I swear. I wish she’d just tell them. If they kick me out fine… I even think I could deal with that.

We had so much fun last night.

I bet the guys had fun last night too. That’s always a ROCKING party. Way dope. It would have been fun to be there. It was the last night of the second millennium.

I can’t do this to myself anymore. I can’t sound like I want to be there, because I don’t. I want to be here with my friends.

Think friends Timberlake, you know those things you never had outside the guys? How could you leave them? I can’t.

Happy New Year. I guess.

Justin curled an arm underneath his head and stared out the window into the early afternoon light. He blinked and felt a drop of moisture form at the corner of his eye. He wiped it away harshly.

"Fuck this shit," he said as he sat up quickly. "I’ve got to get out of here."

"Josh," Joey said as he slid into the seat next to JC. "Is Lance okay?"

JC sat up in his seat and peered over the airplane seats. Three rows ahead on the opposite side of the plane he could vaguely see the blond spikes of his friend.

"I thought so," JC said. "But now…"

"What was that earlier?" Joey asked. "Lance doesn’t blow up like that. I’ve only heard him say the f-word five times since I’ve known him and to use it twice in one speech…?"

JC nodded and glanced worriedly in Lance’s direction. "Sometimes it seems like he’s handling everything better than all of us and other times, well, it seems like he’s falling apart too."

"He wasn’t this way yesterday," Joey said. "What happened between now and then to set him off like that?"

 "I wish I knew," JC said.  "Sometimes I feel like I hardly know him anymore."

"I know," Joey said. "I wonder what’s going on in his head right now?"

Lance blinked his eyes open. He couldn’t fall asleep no matter how hard he tried. He’d drunk too much the night before. It always had the effect of tiring him out and making time move at half speed, but keeping him wide awake at the same time.

He heard Joey get up from the row behind him move back to JC’s seat. He heard their hushed conversation. One word came to his mind. Fuck. He didn’t want to worry them, alienate them. He hadn’t meant to blow up. It wasn’t even the whole choreography thing.

He felt guilty. He felt guilty for telling Justin they didn’t know where he was, he felt guilty for lying to the guys to protect Justin, and now he felt guilty for telling Britney that Justin had found a girl.

Now that someone else knew it would come out and then the guys would figure out that he knew more than he let on and then they’d figure out where Justin was and Justin would be mad at him.

How could he have been so stupid as to think Britney would understand; that she’d drop her affections for Justin just because he had apparently moved on.

Had Justin really moved on or was it just another lie in the set of lies that he’d been weaving for two months.

Suddenly Lance felt mad. He was mad at himself for betraying Justin’s trust that he’d keep all information confidential. He was mad at himself for betraying the guy’s trust when Justin had called him to say he couldn’t come back. He was mad at Justin for running away and putting him in the position of feeling guilty. He hated feeling guilty and the achy feeling that always managed to well up inside of him.

There was only one way to relieve the feeling and that was to run as fast and as far as he could, feeling his feet pound the pavement, and find a secluded spot to cry or scream or whatever he wanted to do.

And all of that was simply impossible on a plane.

Stu looked up as the bells on the door of the office jingled. He saw Justin walk in with a scowl on his face.

"Hey man," Stu said with an easy smile. "Didn’t think I’d see you up and about without sunglasses today. What’s up?"

Justin didn’t answer and made his way behind the counter. He sat on the extra chair and propped his feet on the desk. Stu turned to look at his friend.

"Have you ever thought you might have made a mistake that you could fix, but fixing it might be a bigger mistake?" Justin asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Stu let the grin slide off his face. He took his feet off the desk and rested his elbows on his knees. "What do you mean?"

"Was it a mistake to not go back?" Justin asked quietly. His brown colored eyes were wide and he looked strangely childish.

"Isn’t it what you’ve wanted since you got here?" Stu asked.

Justin stared at the plaster ceiling and didn’t answer.

"What brought this on?" Stu asked.

"They changed the routine," Justin said. "The formations were different and the harmony was wrong and…" he trailed off.

"This is about ‘Bye, Bye, Bye’?" Stu scoffed. "It’s just a song dude."

"No," Justin said in a fierce whisper. Stu leaned back. "It’s not just a song. It’s ‘Bye, Bye, Bye’. It’s what cemented our careers. It’s our baby off of NSA."

"No," Stu said. He crossed his arms over his chest. "It may have a lot of sentimental value, but it is just a song."

"But they changed it," Justin said. "Wade came up with the steps, but we put it together. It was our song and now it’s different. They weren’t supposed to change it."

"You told them to," Stu said. "You told them to keep going. Your routines were designed for five."

"I know," Justin said. "That’s what makes this so hard."

Stu stared at his friend. He honestly had no idea what to say.

"It would have been fun there last night," Justin said quietly. "MTV always throws a rocking party."

Stu nodded. It had looked like a lot of fun on the screen. It was hard for him to imagine that Justin would have been there if he hadn’t been at his house the night before. He didn’t want to hear Justin talk about going back. He didn’t want Justin to go back. "I thought we agreed never to talk about ‘N SYNC."

Justin looked up at Stu. He blinked twice and sighed. "We did."

"It just seems like talking about it makes you upset. It seems like thinking about it makes you unhappy." Stu put his feet up on the desk again.

"I can’t not think about it," Justin said. "It’s part of who I am."

"But is it a part of who Randy Smith is?" Stu asked. "Cause I don’t know the ‘N SYNC member."

Justin’s chair creaked as he leaned backwards. His hands rested in his lap. "I think it is a part of who Randy is."

"I don’t think it is though," Stu said. "Randy’s a guy who manages to pull off straight A’s while only being in school for a month. Randy’s the point guard for the basketball team. Randy’s the guy who doesn’t sing or dance and doesn’t like boy bands as is evidenced from his scene at my party last night."

"I did bad last night, didn’t I?" Justin asked.

Stu nodded. "I covered for you though. I told them your ex had sucked the Italian guy’s dick."

"You what?" Justin asked. He sat forward and his eyes flashed. "Joey’s not like—"

"No, I didn’t say that," Stu spat. "No one’ll remember it by the time school starts. Chill, okay?"

Justin nodded unconvincingly as he settled back into his stupor. His lips were forming a thin line. "Did I tell you I talked to my brothers on Christmas?"

Stu looked up in surprise. One phone call had caused enough angst in Justin’s life. What was he doing calling again?

"No."

"I did," Justin said. "You know what my youngest brother asked Santa for?"

"What?" Stu asked. He thought he could probably figure it out.

"Me," Justin said. He blinked his eyes quickly. "He asked for me."

Stu nodded, again unsure what he should say.

"My dad told him that I wouldn’t fit under the tree. I told him that Santa had told me to call him."

"Uh-huh," Stu said.

"And you know what my other brother said?" Justin asked. He tried to smile, but swallowed harshly.

"What?" Stu asked.

"He asked if I got some new game for the Nintendo. I told him I didn’t have a Nintendo and he offered to send me his. He loves his Nintendo."

"How old is he?" Stu asked.

"Eight," Justin said. "Everyone says he looks just like me. He was me for Halloween one year."

"That’s a good age," Stu said. "My best friend in Colorado had an eight year-old brother."

"He’s a lot of fun," Justin said. "I don’t get to see him enough so any time I spend with him is special. Spent with him was special."

Stu was silent.

"You know," Justin said after a minute. "I thought I’d learned how to combat homesickness."

"You never combat homesickness," Stu said. "I still wake up with cravings for Colorado."

"But I’m never home," Justin said. "Never. I shouldn’t be homesick. I haven’t been for years."

"No offense Randy, but this situation’s slightly different. The bus was your home; the hotels were your home. There’s that cheesy saying, you know? Home is where the heart is.  Your heart was on the road."

Justin nodded. "My mind is so fucked up right now."

"Yeah," Stu said. "It is."

"So what do I do?" Justin asked.

"Do about what?" Stu said.

"The homesickness. My reaction to the thing last night."

"You ignore it," Stu said. "That’s the only way to get over it. And you don’t talk about it. We’re going back to that agreement. I’m not going to listen to anything about ‘N SYNC anymore."

"’K," Justin said. He sounded defeated.

‘N SYNC Compound

"Lance," JC called through the door of Lance’s room. "I know you’re in there." He heard muffled movements through the wood. "Open the door Lance."

The door opened a crack. Lance peered out. His eyes were blurred with sleep and his hair flat. "What?"

"Let me in," JC said. "We need to talk."

"I was sort of in bed," Lance said. He opened the door though. His hand gestured towards the rumpled blankets. "See?"

JC looked at his watch. It was only ten. "It’s only ten."

"So," Lance said. He turned away from JC and went back to the bed. He lay down and pulled the covers up over himself again. "You can talk. I can’t guarantee I’ll stay awake."

JC went over to the other side of the bed and sat cross-legged on the mattress. He pulled one of the queen-sized pillows into his lap, hugging it close. "That’s what I want to talk to you about."

"About me staying awake," Lance said as he rolled over on his side so he was looking at JC. "I’ve been getting plenty of sleep."

"About this attitude Lance," JC said. "You’re the member in the group without an attitude."

"It’s called media façade Josh," Lance said. "You have one too."

"No, that’s not a façade James," JC said. "That’s the real you. So what’s up with you now?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Lance said. He closed his eyes deliberately.

"What was that on the plane today?" JC asked. "Why’d you blow up at Wade?"

"Because he was annoying me," Lance said as he opened his eyes. "Because I needed to vent some steam."

"You never take your anger out on people to their face," JC said. "What was that?"

Lance closed his eyes again. He didn’t answer.

"You haven’t been yourself recently," JC said. "I’m worried about you."

"None of us have been ourselves," Lance said. "It’s nothing new."

"But since you talked to Justin…" JC trailed off. He paused, realizing suddenly that this new attitude had been in place since Lance had talked to Justin before Christmas.

"Since I talked to Justin what?" Lance said sharply but quietly. "What about me talking to Justin?"

"You’ve been out of it," JC said. He narrowed his eyes. "There was something about that phone call. Like why he called you."

"He called me because I was the only one who hadn’t chewed him out," Lance said tiredly. His lip quivered like it always did when he was upset. "I’m really tired Josh."

"No," JC said. "Something was said. What did he say Lance?"

"He didn’t say anything." Lance burrowed his head into the firm fluffiness of the pillow. "Just that he wasn’t coming back."

JC’s brow furrowed, a deep crease forming down the center. "I don’t believe you."

"Fuck," Lance said, finally sitting up. The covers fell down to rest in his lap. "You ask me why I’m pulling away from you guys and then you proceed to tell me you think I’m lying."

"I never said I thought you were pulling away from us," JC said. "Why do you say that?"

"I heard you on the plane Josh," Lance said. "I heard you and Joey talking about what’s wrong with me."

"Oh," JC said. "Did he honestly just say that he wasn’t coming?"

"Yes," Lance said firmly. "That’s all the bastard said."

"So what changed?" JC asked. "I want to help you Lance. I want to be there for you like you were for me."

Lance twisted the blanket between his fingers. The pilled cotton was rough. It was so easy to pick at the balls of lint. "I feel guilty."

"Why?" JC asked. He put a hand on his friend’s back.

"Because he called me and I didn’t do more to keep him coming back."

"I’m sure you did everything you could," JC said. "All any of us could have done."

"I know," Lance said. "It’s just— he called me, not all of us. It was up to me to get him back here."

"Is this why you’ve been tearing yourself up?" JC asked.

Lance nodded. "Yeah."

"Don’t," JC said. "You can’t do anything about it. This is Justin’s fault. Not any of ours."

"I know," Lance said. His voice wavered slightly with emotion. He looked up at JC with red eyes. "I really am tired Josh."

JC turned around, letting his feet fall to the floor. "Okay." He got up and began walking towards the door. When he turned around again, Lance had fallen back to the mattress. "Don’t keep everything inside, okay bro? You need to get some of what’s going on in your brain out in the open."

"I know," Lance said. "Good night Jace."

"Sleep well Lance," JC said. He put on a fake grin. "We’ve got to be up bright and early tomorrow."

"Great!" Lance’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He yawned and shut his eyes.

JC walked out the door and closed it softly behind him.

"Hey you," Maggie said as she walked into Justin’s room. "I haven’t seen you at all."

"I was with Stu," Justin said. He was sitting on his bed reading a book.

"That’s what mom said," Maggie said. "We had brownie’s for dessert."

"I’ll have to go snag one," Justin said. He put the book down on the bed. "I had a really good time last night."

Maggie smiled and blushed slightly. "Me too."

"Good," Justin said. He patted the spot on the bed beside him and Maggie crawled over him to settle against his chest. "Mags?"

"Uh-huh?" Maggie asked. Her hand had drifted to his stomach and was playing with one of the buttons on his new flannel shirt.

"If I were to go back… home… do you think we could still make this work?"

Maggie’s hand stopped and she slowly boosted herself up. "You’re going to leave? Before school and the season?"

"I didn’t say that." Justin said. "Just, what if."

"I don’t know," Maggie said. "I mean, I’d try."

Justin smiled warmly. "So would I. It might be difficult, but I’d try."

"Don’t go back Randy," Maggie said. "I want you here."

"I want to be here too," Justin said. "Don’t ever doubt that." He wasn’t sure whether he was reassuring her, or himself. It didn’t really matter though.

He kissed Maggie’s hair and gently pushed her head back down so it was resting on his chest.