THE CHANGE

CHAPTER ONE -- THE WAY THINGS USED TO BE

James leaned his head back against a tree in a rare moment of peace, closing his eyes and enjoying the silence. Even the birds building their nest in the branches of the giant oak seemed to understand the silence he so desperately needed. This was the life...

No, he told himself. This wasn't. Life was what he used to have, when he was on the road with *N Sync, performing at sold out concerts every night, laughing at Justin's jokes until his sides hurt, even if they weren't that funny. He missed those days so bad sometimes it made his heart hurt. It hurt him even more that their time together had been cut short, in his opinion, long before its time. He opened his eyes and looked upward through blurred vision, not bothering to wipe away the tears. Why had it happened? He wish he had all the answers, but he knew he never would. He sure had lots of questions for those answers he would never have, but the most promiment one, the one he asked himself when he laid awake late at night, was... why me? Of all of us... why me?

"James?"

He turned his head at the sound of the human voice. "Oh, hey Josh." He stood, reaching for his friend's hand and leading him to his place beneath the tree. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you coming."

Josh was silent for a moment, allowing his senses to take in the sereneness of the nature that surrounded them. Then he reached up a hand and ran it over his friend's facial features. "You're thinking about them again, aren't you?"

"How can I not?" James's voice teatered on the edge of tears, and he managed to choke them back. "I don't understand. No matter how many times I run it through in my head, I don't understand why... why it had to happen at all..."

"It was God's will," came the reply. Josh's eyes, blind since that terrible night, seemed to focus on something far away. James felt the tears come again as he stared at the pools of crystal blue. Josh had always been full of wisdom, but it seemed he had become moreso since he had lost his sight. "We can't explain it and we shouldn't try to. We just need to accept that He had His reasons."

James laid back on the soft grass beneath the oak, still fighting against the tears. "I try. I swear I do. But I miss them so much, and sometimes..."

"Don't you dare blame yourself." He was using his fatherly voice, which James had seldom heard directed at him. It used to be that he reserved that voice for the antics of Joey, Chris, and Justin when they got out of hand. Man, how he missed hearing that voice used for that reason. "You had nothing to do with it, it is not your fault, and you can't help it that you were the lucky one."

"You were pretty lucky yourself."

"I guess." Josh's hands examined the earth until he found the stem of a dandelion. He plucked it, running his fingers over the top to ensure that the seeds had bloomed. They had. He blew, sending the white pieces out into the air, just like Chris used to do, his eyes always filled with the wonder of a child. He could still see it plain as day in his mind's eye.

"I can't help but wonder, though... why was it me?" He stared out across the blueness of the lake, which shone like a sea of diamonds due to the reflection of the afternoon sun on the crests of the tiny waves. "Why was I the one..."

"Don't question it, James. It'll drive you mad. Just accept it. I have. They're gone."

James let out a long sigh, this time unable to stop a single tear that traced a jagged line down his cheek. It had been forbidden long ago with unspoken gestures, but he couldn't help but slip his friend's old nickname into his emotional statement. "We had so much going for us, JC..."

"Don't. Don't call me that." The dark haired young man set his mouth in a firm line. "That belongs in the past, just like Lance does. They died in that crash along with our friends, we agreed to that." Josh was startled by the prolonged silence that followed, but as he strained his ears to hear, he knew his friend was still sitting beside him. He could hear his muffled sobs. "Say something."

"You keep telling me to move on," came his voice at last, "But the truth is that you haven't, either. If you had, my using that name wouldn't make any difference. Face it. You're still wishing the same things that I am, in your heart. You just don't voice them." When there was no response, James nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He got to his feet. "I'm going back to the house. You coming? Or can you find your way later?"

"I'll come now." Josh stood and reached out a trusting arm. James took hold of it and led his friend back inside their house, sitting him in a chair at the kitchen table before going upstairs to his room.

CHAPTER TWO -- THINKING BACK

The truth was, though he had never told anyone, James relived that horrible night often when he was alone. He had cried so many tears in the year since the crash that he wonderd now where his body was getting the water to form the tears. Now, he laid face up on his bed, fresh tears already forming as his mind once again returned to it.

~Flashback~

"Iiii get the window seat!" Justin Timberlake announced, running down the isle of the plane. His blond curls bounced as he ran, much to the amusement of his groupmates.

"No way, Curly, it's my turn!" Chris Kirkpatrick protested, giving the taller man a playful shove.

JC resigned himself to an isle seat, but not before sending a parental warning in the direction of Chris and Justin. "Settle down, you two." He looked up at them as he took his seat, raising his eyebrows. "Lance, you were quiet. You get the window seat."

Lance Bass smirked, passing by his bickering groupmates to slide into the seat next to the window. "Better luck next time, boys," he told them in his deep voice.

Joey Fatone stood in the isle, his hands on his hips. "Hey, I was good, too!" he exclaimed. "I was quiet!"

"Now you're not."

"Hmph." He sat down grudgingly next to JC, pulled out a boring magazine, and began to pretend to read.

"I forget, where're we going again?" came Justin's voice not two seconds later. He leaned across his friends to Lance, looking at him expectantly.

"Missouri-- Kansas City. Promotional junk, and then... praise the Lord, we are going HOME." His friends sighed contentedly in perfect unison. "Y'all, that was cheese."

"The cheesiest," Chris told him with a nod.

Joey grinned. "Kraft Cheese and Macaroni!" he crooned.

Lance shook his head and leaned back in his seat. They were just taking off-- he hated this part. He espeically hated it on night flights, like this one, because he was tired, and the pressure and popping in his ears seemed to magnify. But soon enough they had leveled off and were headed for Missouri. He leaned his head against the wall of the plane and closed his eyes.

Just as Lance was beginning to drift off, he felt a jolt. "Turbulance," he muttered, never opening his eyes. He leaned back against the wall, trying to find the comfortable position he'd discovered. He did so just as the plane jolted again. This time, he opened his eyes to see the lights on the plane flicker. Frowning, he sat up. Chris was awake beside him, and across the isle, he saw the rest of the group looking around in confusion. "What's going on?" Justin mumbled sleepily.

"Uhh... ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot," a voice came through the speakers suddenly. "What appears to have happened is..." They could all tell from the tone of his voice that something a little worse than turbulance was the source of their problem. "We've flown into a storm, and the aircraft has been damaged. We're right over the Rockies, so we're going to turn around and go back to Tacoma. We should be there--" he was cut off as the power went down and the plane went dark. People screamed, and even *N Sync themselves panicked. A moment later, the power returned, but the message was grim. A red light flashed in the cabin, and the voice of the pilot was tense. "Prepare for an emergency landing. We're going down."

The minutes that followed had been terrifying. The plane had plumeted downward, out of control. Lance heard it strike something hard, and he knew this was it. If he'd known this would be the last time he ever spoke to some of his friends, maybe he would have thought of something a little better to say than, "Good luck, guys."

But... luck had not been on their side. In fact, it had been on almost no one's. Lance had escaped the burning wreckage purly by chance. His window faced upward, and so he was able to attract the attention of the rescue crews. They'd pulled him out, quickly taking him out of the way to tend to his bumps, bruises, and cuts. "My friends," he told them. "My friends. They're still in there, you gotta help them--"

"You're one of those *N Sync kids, right?" a female EMT asked as she bandaged a laceration on his arm.

"Yeah."

"We'll go back and check, but I'm not making any promises. We were lucky to get you out."

"What do you mean?"

"That plane's gonna blow any second. We're working as fast as we can, but the next few we bring out will probably be the last few. There's a lot of bodies in there, son, and not many of them are breathing."

"I need to go." He jumped up, not caring that his face was dirty and covered with blood. He raced back toward where he'd been pulled out of and leaned back down into the interior of the plane. "Guys?" he called out. "Guys! Answer me, please!"

"Ugh..."

Lance turned his head. "JC?"

"Ugh..."

He reached his hand out, and JC grasped it. It took all of the strength Lance had, but he was able to pull JC out of the wreckage.

"That thing's gonna blow!" he heard someone exclaim. "Get those boys away from there, NOW!"

A figure lunged at them, pushing them down a small, rocky hill. Lance heard the explosion, but didn't look up.

JC did, his eyes centering in on the wightest brightness of the flames. He'd been blind since that day.

~End Flashback~

The others, it was later determined, could not possibly had been alive, even if they had been removed from the wreckage before the explosion. They were dead. And James and Josh decided it was only right that Lance and JC be laid to rest alongside their best friends. That day was the last time either of those names had been used, until today.

"One hand reaches out, and pulls a lost soul from harm, while a thousand more go unspoken for," James turned his head, almost laughing at the irony of Garth Brooks's words, and how they so perfectly fit his actions that day. "And they say, 'what good have you done by saving just this one? It's like whispering a prayer in the fury of a storm...'" He leaned over and shut off the radio. Ironic it was, indeed, but much too close to home for his liking.

CHAPTER THREE -- LANCE AND JC

As was their weekly custom, James and Josh walked together to the final resting places of their three best friends. Though separated, they were all buried in Orlando, for this had been the home they had all loved. Although, James supposed, there hadn't been much to bury when all was said and done. Really, there was nothing in the ground, but the tombstones that bore their names were there out of respect.

He laid a single baby blue carnation down on the earth as he knelt beside Justin's grave, running his fingers over the letters and dates. "Ashes to ashes," he whispered, cluing Josh in as to whom they had visited first. He spoke different words to each of them, but the words to each were always the same. "Dust to dust." Then he stood, and led Josh forward a bit until he could feel the coldness of the stone. Then he walked away, out of earshot. Josh always insisted on privacy when they visited their friends. He wasn't sure why. Today, he lingered closer than usual, and was just able to hear his words.

"Lance and I played basketball yesterday," he said softly, caressing the smooth headstone. "Well, we tried. It's not so easy anymore, but... they told me I could do anything if I tried-- you used to tell me that, remember?" James's brow creased. He'd called him Lance, even after he'd insisted upon not being called JC. He had to wonder if he always did when he spoke to the others. "You'd be so proud of Lance, Curly, he's doing such a great job with all of this. I know sometimes it seems like he's losin' it, but--" he paused. "He called me JC today. I-- I thought I'd never be JC again, but today, for a split second, I was. Do you think it's okay... that I liked the feeling? I know we promised you guys, but..." He sighed. "Think about it, okay? We'll talk more next week." Then he turned around and called out, "Okay, I'm ready!" and James went to retrieve him and lead him back to his car.

Later that afternoon, James lay on his bed once again, lost in his thoughts as his radio played soft country tunes in his ear.

But the thoughts that he was caught up in today were different... they weren't about the crash. In fact, they had nothing to do with that awful day. They were about today, and their visits to their friends. Josh had spoken with all three of them as if they were sitting right there in front of him, telling them about the events of the past week. Each conversation was a bit different, but the common thread was his mention of "JC" and "Lance"... characters, parts they had played in their pasts... that had seemingly floated back to the surface after being buried a year ago. He had to try something, just once, he had to try it, and if Josh threw a fit, then so be it.

At least he'd know.

He looked down the stairs to the first floor and spotted Josh, seated in a recliner and engrossed in one of the Star Wars movies. It didn't matter that he could no longer see the pictures. He knew the movie by heart. "Just do it," he told himself, taking a deep breath and descending the stairs.

"That you?" He asked, lifting his head slightly from where he'd been resting it.

"Of course it's me, JC. Who else would it be?" On this, he sucked in a breath, waiting on edge for a response.

For a long moment, there was none. Finally, he spoke in a quiet tone. "You were listening to me today."

"I'm sorry."

He sighed, reaching for the remote and running his fingers across the shapes until he found the power button. He hit it, and the movie stopped. "They never knew me as Josh," he explained, shifting in his seat. "And you were Lance from the day we met you. It's all they knew."

"I heard you tell Justin that you liked the feeling when I called you JC."

"I did, I really did. It woke a part of me that I thought I'd lost forever. It made me realize that maybe I don't want to close that part of my life so completely." His fingers fidgeted with the stray string he'd pulled off the fabric off the recliner. "I don't want you to think I'm crazy because I talk to them like they're still here. If it makes you feel any better, I know they're not going to answer me. But talking to them like that gives me some sort of peace."

"Maybe it wasn't right... the way we buried JC and Lance like that. Face it... we are still them, somewhere inside, and we always will be."

Josh closed his eyes, struggling internally. "I just don't know. I... I need some time, okay? Just let me think about it."

"Okay. Goodnight, Josh."

"'Night James. See you in the morning."

CHAPTER FOUR -- A MOTHER'S LOVE

The next afternoon, James made sure Josh knew he was leaving before jumping in his Toyota and cruising across town to his parents' house. His mother met him at the door, greeting him with a warm hug.

"How have you been?" she asked, caressing his face in that loving motherly manner no son or daughter ever dislikes.

"Living." He followed her into the family room and sat down on the couch. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Alright."

"After the crash... you know Josh and I had this understanding that *N Sync died that day, and we buried... well, not really buried, but you know... laid JC and Lance to rest as well." She nodded. "Was that right? Did we do the right thing?"

"I knew you'd wonder that eventually. I'll be right back." She left the room momentarily. When she returned, she carried a familiar book in her hands. She placed it in her son's lap, and he began gingerly turning the pages.

This was the scrapbook she had started the day *N Sync was formed. The very first picture was of the group that very day at TransCon, sharing the first of many brotherly hugs. Man, they looked so young.

The news articles, pictures, and clippings that filled the pages of the book followed their careers, their rise to fame. He watched them grow up before his eyes. Then he came upon the pages that he thought should be the last-- the ones about the crash. Tears came to his eyes as he ran his fingers over the pictures of his three dead friends. The coverage by the media of that crash had been overwhelming, and his mother had managed to catch most of it. She'd filled nearly four pages on that event alone. But, he noticed... there was still more.

Turning the page, he saw pictures of Josh and himself in the hospital in the days following the crash, pictures of the two of them the day Josh had moved into his home, articles about their recovery... and, he noted, the last article was dated no more than a week ago. It was about the upcoming anniversary of the crash, and contained brief interviews with Josh and himself on the subject.

"You didn't stop," he said, lifting his eyes from the book in confusion.

"Of course not." She sat down and looked him straight in the face. "You are my son and I love you, and Lance," she stressed his name, "Lance, you did not die that day. And *N Sync, though you and Josh have moved on, did not die that day, either. The two of you are still alive, which means it is still alive inside of you."

He frowned. "But the rest of the guys... without them, we are not *N Sync."

She shook her head and smiled a sad smile. "You're missing my point. Do you remember when you were sixteen, and this offer came to you, how excited you were? Do you remember how you used to pray for those things, and your dreams were coming true. And that's what *N Sync was. It was the realization of a dream, the embodiment of youth and excitement and so much talent... of blood, sweat, and tears, and a friendship that cannot be seperated by the space between heaven and earth."

He'd never thought about it that way. To him, *N Sync had been his group of friends. People. But his mother was conveying it to him in a manner he'd never looked at it before. *N Sync was a dream, a feeling, an emotion. It was not a touchable thing, not a mortal thing. It had been around forever, experienced over and over again by human beings, each of them calling it something different. He and his friends had called it *N Sync. And his mother was right. *N Sync still lived in his heart.

"I should be getting home to JC," he said, tossing the name around in his mouth again, realizing how good it felt to use it so freely. "He probably needs me."

"Do you feel any better?"

"I do. Thanks, Mom." He hugged her tightly. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Lance."

CHAPTER FIVE -- THE DREAM REMAINS

Lance arrived home with a smile on his face. He slipped quietly into the house so as not to disturb JC, whom he could hear lost in the musical world down the hall. The soft melodies and touching words of his latest project floated to Lance's ears. It was very new, so new that he hadn't heard it before. JC must have just begun to work on it today.

Lance reached the room that Josh had turned into a mini at-home studio and knocked softly on the door. The music stopped, and Josh's voice called, "Come in."

James stepped into the room. "That's beautiful," he told his friend, sitting down on a wooden chair. "You just start that today?"

"Yeah. I--" He shrugged. "I realized that next week is... well you know, and... some words just came to me. It's for them." He looked around, almost as if he could see everything in the room-- the pictures of the band that decorated the walls, the keyboard and computer-- but of course he could not. "In this room, I'm still JC."

"You've always been JC."

"I used to be. JC's dead."

"No, he's not. If he was, you wouldn't still be able to write like that." Lance leaned back in the chair. "I went to see my mother today."

"Yeah, I know."

"She told me some stuff that made a lot of sense." He fidgeted with his own fingers, his green eyes shining. "About *N Sync, and about the two of us." He launched into a sermon about his mother's scrapbook, and how it hadn't ended the day of the crash. He talked about his mother's words, and his own realizations about what *N Sync really was. When he finished, he looked at his friend. "And so I've changed my mind. I'm not James. It's not natural that way. Inside, in my heart, I'm still Lance, and I always will be. And I know-- I KNOW-- that you will always be JC."

His head dropped. It was still a habit, even though he no longer had to worry about looking anyone in the eye. "That's some heavy shit, Lance."

A smile tugged at the corners of Lance's mouth. "Thank my mom."

"I should. I wonder if all moms are that smart."

"Yeah, probably. I think like... you get some wiseness when you become a mom, or something." He laughed softly.

"Lance," JC said, smiling as well. "Will you help me finish this song?"

"It would be my pleasure."

The duo worked all night, finding the words and the harmonies. Despite his blindness, JC still played the piano beautifully. Lance could remember he'd spent countless frustrating hours trying to reaquaint himself with the feel of the keys after the crash. After some time, he'd labled Middle C with a lablemaker. The device used raised lettering, and it made it much easier for JC to find the keys he needed just with one key labled. It amazed Lance to no end. He said so.

"Eh, it was nothing. When you want something bad enough..." They both smiled. When you want something bad enough, *N Sync is what you get. "Are we almost done? What time is it?"

"Uhh..." Lance looked at what they had written, and then at the clock. "Almost three in the morning, and you tell ME if we're almost done. There's a reason I'm the business minded one and not the writer."

"Don't sell yourself short. You did good. I couldn't have done this without your help."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He ran his fingers over the keys, quickly locating the ones he needed. He couldn't read the music in front of him, but it sat there anyway. JC's memory was beyond amazing, and he was able to hit nearly every chord perfectly. As he struck the final notes, he nodded vigorously. "We're done."

CHAPTER SIX -- FOR THEM

The day of the one year anniversary of the crash, JC and Lance changed their weekly custom. Instead of visiting the graves, they boarded a plane and made a pilgrimige of sorts to the crash site. They knew when they reached it, but it was not from any physical evidence that remained. It was from the feeling they got inside.

"It doesn't even look like such a terrible thing ever happened here," Lance observed, looking around. It was spring, and little violets and other small flowers had begun to grow. JC sat down gently, running his hands over the cold rock of the mountain. He closed his eyes and let the memory of that night overtake him.

Lance leaned back and watched his friend in curiosity. He knew what he was thinking. "I miss them," he admitted quietly.

"Me too."

Lance's next question was barely audible, but JC heard him. "Were they dead before the plane exploded?"

"Why do you ask?"

Lance shrugged, even though he knew JC couldn't see it. "It doesn't leave a very good feeling in a man's gut knowing his best friends could've been burned alive."

"I can see it in my mind so perfectly... the looks on their faces as the plane hit the mountain... I hit my head, but somehow I stayed concious... I just couldn't get out. I couldn't move. I was on the isle, but I... I reached for the nearest person, and it was Justin." He shook his head. "He wasn't breathing, wasn't responding. I panicked... he had this huge gash on the side of his head. There was a lot of blood, and... it wasn't pretty." Tears formed in his unseeing eyes and began to trickle down his cheeks. These were memories that Lance did not have. These were things he alone would remember for the rest of his life. "Chris was looking at me with this shocked expression on his face. It was awful... you don't ever want a friend to look at you that way. He was so scared, but he couldn't move... he knew he was gonna die. It wasn't... I'm sorry, Lance, but he wasn't..."

Lance swallowed the lump rising in his throat. He picked up a handful of dirt and rocks and sifted it through his fingers, wondering if some remnants of the crash, ashes or something, still remained within the earth. "And Joey?"

"I don't know. I wish I knew. You pulled me out before I could get a look at him."

Lance sighed. He stood and kicked restlessly at the earth beneath him. "I thought coming back here would help me somehow, but... it just sucks. Dude... let's go home."

"Yeah. Let's go."

"So we wrote a song for y'all," JC said, leaning against Chris's headstone. "It's been a year. Can you guys believe it? And we-- we really miss you." He blinked back tears. "But some pretty heavy stuff happened over the past week, and... Lance and I are gonna go into business together. We just thought you should know."

"We're gonna manage and produce artists," Lance put in, coming up on the other side. "And we're gonna call it... *NSYNC Entertainment." A smile spread slowly across his face.

"We know you guys had a hand in bringing us around in this last week," JC continued. "And we wanna say thanks. So... thanks."

"And we'll do our best to make you proud. This is all for you guys." On Lance's last words, the pair headed out of the cemetary. They had a lot of work to do.

The video was thrown together at the last minute. Using photograph stills and video clips, Lance and JC captured the essence of *N Sync and set it to music. The finished product would debut on MTV's Total Request Live exactly one week after the anniversary.

That day, JC and Lance sat at home to watch the premiere of their video. They had been asked to go to New York City and appear on TRL, but they had declined, knowing that when the video aired, they would lose their composure, and they didn't want to do it in front of a live audience. This was something they wanted to do at home, in silence, with their families. And so, that day, their families-- and the families of their friends-- gathered at JC and Lance's house.

JC sucked in a breath as he heard Carson's voice set up the introduction. "A year ago last Tuesday, the world lost a group of truly great artists and entertainers. We all remember how we felt when we heard that *N Sync's plane had gone down in the Rockies, and that band members Justin Timberlake, Joey Fatone, and Chris Kirkpatrick had indeed passed away," he began, and tears already began to form in the corners of JC's eyes. "But their surviving friends wanted to do something special for them on this first anniversary... and so here it is. Ladies and gentlemen, the world premiere of "The Dream is Still Alive"."

JC couldn't see the images as they floated across the screen, but he knew what they were. Lance had gone over every milisecond of the video with him. As the introduction played, a soft melody that JC had changed at the very last second, images of their friends flashed across the screen, the dates of their births and deaths labeling each one. And then the words began.

Am I alone? Is this the end?
Is this where the world comes crashing down?
I say a prayer and wait to die
And then an angel reaches out
I didn't want to leave you there all alone
But I had to go
I couldn't fight the tears that came
As I felt you fade away
Now that you've been gone awhile and time has passed
Hear me now
I miss you deep down inside
But I'll keep our dream alive

We didn't build this castle just to have it fall apart
We didn't dream so big just to stop before the start
We didn't send you up to heav'n to watch us die inside
It wouldn't be right, 'cause we know
The dream is still alive.

I can't forget the times we shared
The friendship, laughter, and the tears
I think about it every night
I can't believe it's been a year
I swear I would do anything to change it all
And most of all
If I could go back to that night
I'd find a way to say goodbye

But we didn't build this castle just to have it fall apart
And we didn't dream so big just to stop before the start
We didn't send you up to heav'n to watch us die inside
It wouldn't be right, 'cause we know
The dream is still alive

They told us "dream, and dream big, and your dreams will come true,
You've got what it takes to make it," and let me tell you
We dreamed the things we dreamed and we reached the stars
And though you're gone, I promise you, the dream we dreamed lives on.

The final chorus filled the air, and Lance watched the video clips play. He couldn't believe what his mother had saved up over the years, but he'd been able to find all sorts of home movie footage of the five of them, young, smiling, laughing, singing, dancing... hugging... performing. Man, he missed them. But, he reflected as the video finished and an uncharacteristic silence filled the Times Square studio, they had done what they had set out to do. Tears rolled down the cheeks of several people in the in-studio audience. Even Carson was speechless. The living room where they sat was quiet as well, until JC broke the silence with the simple words, "We did it, Lance."

"Yeah, JC. Yeah, we did."

CHAPTER SEVEN -- UNCHANGED

"I wanna thank you."

Lance looked up from the bills he was paying as JC walked into the room. "For what?"

"For reminding me what *N Sync was-- IS really about. Things have been kind of hectic and rushed the last week or so and I never had a chance to sit down and thank you properly. So... thank you."

"You're welcome. And thank YOU... for bein' there. I'll be the first to admit I was dyin' inside after the crash, here in this big house, with the media pestering me day and night... those days you laid in the hospital were so terrible. They didn't know if you'd even make it. I don't know what I would've done in this big world all by myself."

"I couldn't leave you all alone." He shrugged. "But if I had... you know... you wouldn't have been alone, reguardless. They're still with us. I know they are."

"I can feel it sometimes, too... in the little things. Like, when I stand in front of the mirror in the morning, I remember that time on the bus when Justin jumped up behind me and scared the bejeezus out of me, and I smacked my head on the mirror. That hurt." He rubbed the spot absently.

"And when we're home on a Friday night, just chillin' 'cause we don't feel like going out, I can just feel them here, trying to push us out the door to the nearest club."

Lance laughed. "Yeah, me too. Or when we're playin' basketball... I swear sometimes that Justin's helping you from lookin' like a fool."

"You think so too, huh?" A grin spread across JC's face. "I do miss them, though."

"How can we not? They were our best friends."

A long silence settled over the pair, and Lance considered going back to his bills, but the way JC's forehead was creased told him his friend had something else to say. "What is it?" he asked finally.

"This changed us, didn't it?"

"Well I hate to say duh, but..."

"No, I mean..." He sighed, frustrated, as he searched for the right words. Finally, he gave up. "I guess I don't know what I mean."

"I think the crash changed us as human beings. It left scars-- scars in our hearts-- that will never fade. But you're still JC, and I'm still Lance, and THAT did not change."

"We thought it did."

"But we were wrong." Lance grinned. "And I think this business venture of ours is our way of making sure that we never forget that. I think, subconciously at least, that I pulled you out of that wreckage because I didn't want to be alone. I knew that would change me inside forever, and I couldn't deal with that. I was reaching for one of you, any one of you... it just happened to be your hand that reached back."

JC was quiet for quite some time. Then, wordlessly, he turned and left the room. As he entered the living room, he frowned. He hadn't turned on the TV, and niether had Lance, but it was on. As he listened, he realized what it was: the home video *N Sync had never finished. He listened momentarily to the video clips that documented their years together before reaching for the remote and turning the tape off and turning to leave the room. He hadn't gotten more than five feet before the tape started up again.

Shaking his head, JC turned around once again, picked up the remote, and pushed "stop". This time, he turned the TV off altogether and turned again to leave.

Again, the tape resumed playing.

A shiver ran down JC's spine, but at the same time, a smile spread across his face. "Okay, guys, I get the point!" he said, turning his face heavenward. "Geez, you're persistant." He sat down in the recliner and allowed the tape to play.