"There's only now, there's only here, give into love or live in fear. No other path, no other way, no day but today. " -- RENT

ONE SONG GLORY

CHAPTER ONE -- SHE WAS AN OLD FRIEND...

He attributed the sore muscles and joints to intense rehersals and concerts with *N Sync. He barely noticed them, he was so focused on what he was doing. Sure, he was taking more pain reliever than normal, but... they hadn't toured in awhile. Of course he was going to be a bit sore. And after a week or so, the pain faded. It was replaced by a cough.

A cough... that was all it had been. A cough. For a few nights he'd given up some solos to save his voice, and he'd taken care of himself like all musicians should. But it hadn't gone away, and so when *N Sync got back to Orlando, he'd seen his doctor, who'd given him some antibiotics. The cough had gone away, and he thought he was fine. It was, after all, just a cough.

But was it? Less than two weeks after his visit to the doctor, he was sick again, and worse than before. This time it was diagnosed as pneumonia. That was worse than a cough. This was serious. He began to wonder what was wrong with him.

He was on strict orders from his doctor to stay in bed for at least a week and get plenty of rest. He was unhappy that this would cause him to miss several shows with *N Sync, but the truth was, he was too tired and sick to argue. Two days had passed, and he was already feeling much better.

Now his phone was ringing. Sighing, he reached across his nightstand and grabbed it. "Hello?"

"Hello?" the voice on the other end echoed. It was female. Please Lord... not a fan he begged silently. "Is this JC Chasez?"

"It is," he replied almost grudgingly. "Who is this?"

"JC I... I don't even know if you remember me. My name's Sharon Micheals... we met about a year ago while you were on tour..."

JC's brow creased. The name DID sound familiar, but... why was she calling? "Your name rings a bell," he told her. "Can I help you?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. He would have thought she'd hung up, except he could hear her breathing heavily into the receiver on the other end. She sounded nervous. "Have you been ill lately?" she asked finally.

The achey muscles and joints, the cough, his pneumonia... they all flooded his mind. How did she know? Why did she care? "I-- yes."

"Oh God oh God oh God oh God," she repeated over and over as quickly as her senses would allow. She sounded close to tears, and JC began to worry. Why did his sudden bouts of illness bother her so much?

"Excuse me," he addressed her cautiously. "I don't mean to be rude but... what's wrong? And how did you know I've been sick?"

"JC I-- I'm so sorry." She was crying now. Why was she crying?

"Sorry for what?"

"For ruining your life, your career..."

"You haven't ruined anything. Calm down, darlin'..." His heart went out to her. Whatever it was she felt she had done obviously bothered her very much.

"Yes, I did. I--" She took a calming breath. "My doctor said that I needed to call you... out of curtousy... God this is so hard..."

"What is it?"

"JC, I'm HIV positive, and you-- you should be tested." Then she hung up, and the dialtone beeped in his ear as he sank back against his pillows in shock.

Time seemed to stop that day. It was like a terrible memory that sets itself in time and cannot be forgotten. For the rest of his life, he would be able to recall exactly how he felt in that instant: his hands were shaking, and he was sweating. For a moment, he thought he'd pass out. He could even remember, sometimes, exactly what he was wearing, and that the room smelled like apples, because his mother had sprayed something in there recently. But most of all, he could always return to exactly what had gone through his mind in those first moments. HIV? AIDS? He'd worked so hard in his life to get where he was. Was this how it was going to end? Would it all come crashing down?

His whole body shook. It was mild at first, but then the tears came and he couldn't stop them. Before he knew it, he was convulsing, sobbing so loudly that he felt foolish but couldn't stop himself. He felt someone wrap their arms around him, and a soothing voice whispered in his ear, coddling him as if he were a small child. His mother... she was always this way. She loved him. But she didn't know what he knew... As she stroked his hair, he calmed down, and he could hear her asking what was wrong... should he tell her? Would she look at him the same way?

That would be a tough feat, he decided. He wasn't even sure he would ever look at himself in quite the same light ever again.

CHAPTER TWO -- WILL I LOSE MY DIGNITY?

"I'm sorry, JC. The test was positive. You have HIV."

The young singer nodded slowly. He knew-- he'd known since she'd called him. He'd cried all his tears the day of the phone call, and in the week that had passed since then, he'd managed to compose himself, and focus on the future. While he'd never forget the sting that the words "HIV positive" contained that first day, or any day after, for that matter, he had calmed down enough to realize that he could not spend the rest of his life just dwelling on those words and feeling sorry for himsef. Life, for what it was now, had to go on.

"What about my music career?"

The doctor leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I leave that up to you. You're a grown man. In my mind, it would be best if you stayed home and took care of yourself rather than running all over the country and spending all that energy to put on a show every night." He shrugged, subconciously smoothing back his graphite colored hair that JC knew had been fake for at least the past ten years. "But I can't tell you what to do, and I would understand if you chose to live the rest of your life to its fullest. You're not exactly the type I picture letting his life slip away while he sits in a rocking chair by the window waiting for death. The only thing that concerns me is that I know you're on a busy schedule, and it must not-- I repeat, must NOT-- interfere with your medications." He had been scribbling on a perscription pad while he was talking to JC. Now he passed a handful of papers across the desk. "These are your perscriptions. When you fill them, each will come with a leaflet explaining when they should be taken. You'll be on a specific time schedule, taking each medication at different times. Sometimes two together, sometimes three... sometimes you'll feel sick to your stomach. Sometimes, you won't feel well enough to get up in the morning. For the first few weeks, they may even make you throw up. Do you wear a watch?"

"Sometimes..."

The older man shook his head. "You have to wear one all the time. If your watch is not programmable, get one that is. It'll be much easier on you if all you have to do is remember to listen for the beep. Your life as you have known it is over, JC. You'll have to learn to deal with this new one." He perched on the edge of his desk, frowning at himself. He'd known JC since he'd first moved to Orlando for the Mickey Mouse Club. Back then, he'd seen a lot of himself in the smiling, blue-eyed boy. Now... it was almost ironic. The doctor, though in his sixties, bald, and having a frail appearnce, was in overall good health. He didn't smoke, didn't drink, and probably had another twenty or so years left. JC, on the other hand, was 23, had that same sparkle in his eyes that he always did, a full head of hair, and looked strong and healthy. Yet it was he who had the earlier appointment to meet his maker. "JC, I truly am sorry."

JC nodded. He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip-- a nervous habit. He'd have to tell his friends, his family... he'd have to change his life around just to accomodate a pill-taking schedule... but what about him? What about a life? Did he still have one? Or was he just a walking drug store, wandering around the Earth, waiting for his time to die?

"How long, Doc? How long do I have before I won't be self sufficient anymore? How long until I won't be able to get out of bed by myself each morning? How long until I die?"

The doctor licked his lips and came around the desk. "Your T-cell count is reasonably high, and it will fluctuate... I really can't say, JC. Not now. It's too soon. You've only been infected for a year. My only advice is to enjoy your life, because... I really don't know. It could be that you've got ten years left, or even fifteen. But at the same time... it could be that this is your last."

~

"You can't be serious."

The family room had fallen completely silent. Lance, who had been standing, reached for a chair, his face turning a sickly green color. Four pairs of eyes stared at him in a shocked horror, and though he knew it wasn't the best choice of words, Justin's comment was the only one he could think to make to break the silence.

"Justin... would I lie about something like this?"

"But you look so..." Joey paused. "So healthy."

"I am, for the most part. The doctor says I could live another fifteen years or more."

"But... AIDS?" Chris shook his head. "Your parents must be going insane."

"Let's just say you guys are taking it much better than they did." JC leaned back on his couch. Everybody knew now-- well, everybody who needed to know at the moment. The fans, the media... they remained, and they would be the toughest to tackle. It had been two days since his doctor appointment, and the fear had set in. Now... now he was terrified. "Guys... I'm scared."

"Well, considering you scared the shit out of us... I can only imagine what you're going through." Lance offered a smile in JC's direction.

JC didn't return it. His mind had already wandered elsewhere. "What about the press?" he asked. "What about our fans? This will not go over well. God I'm scared." He blinked back tears, but there was no need. Already his friends had surrounded him, and now he was being pulled into the center of a group hug. "I don't want to die," he choked out. "But more than that... I don't want to lose the life that I have."

"So don't," Justin replied with a shrug. He put a hand on JC's shoulder. "You're still JC, and we still love you. Don't let this run your life, JC. Don't let it posess that soul of yours. Stay strong."

"I think I might need your guys's help."

"Well then we'll be here," Chris promised. "We'll be here all the way."

CHAPTER THREE -- NO ONE KNOWS

"I knew it would happen." JC sank down on one of the couches in *N Sync's dressing room, holding his head in his hands.

Chris looked away from Busta, concerned. "What's that?"

In response, JC picked up a copy of the Star and tossed it in Chris's lap. Busta jumped down, startled, and Chris picked up the paper. "'*N Sync Singer Infected with HIV Virus,'" Chris read aloud. He sat silently for a moment before jumping to his feet in anger. "How could they do this?! WHO did this?! Dammit... you haven't even been to the regular press yet, how did the tabloids-- nevermind, that's a stupid question. But who... how..."

"Forget it, Chris," JC told him, standing and shaking his head. "It's out. People know. And you know what? Maybe it's for the best."

"Why?" Chris was still fuming. His face had turned beat red, and his normally gentle brown eyes shot daggers at anyone who dared look him in the eye. The eldest member of the group rarely got angry, but when he did, his temper made Hitler look like Santa Claus. "They had no right! It's your personal life, your decision who knows and who doesn't... God dammit."

"But now... well, the tough part is over. Now all I have to answer is the yes or no question about whether or not it's true. I say yes... that's the end of it. No in depth, lengthy interviews and conferences about it until I'm READY for them. And yeah... they'll come eventually, but you know what? I don't want to talk about it with the public right now."

Chris's temper faded, and he grew unusually quiet, sinking back down onto the couch. "Will you talk about it with me?"

"Talk about what?"

Chris shrugged. "Anything."

There was another lengthy silence before JC sat down beside his friend. "You know nobody's even asked me how it happened?" he addressed him. "I was so sure that somebody would ask me that I spent hours trying to figure out how I would explain the situation. I figured that would be the first question out of my Dad's mouth, but it wasn't. Then I was sure one of you guys would ask me, but you didn't. Now it's kinda freakin' me out and I kinda WANT to talk about it."

"Well then I'll listen. How'd it happen, bro? Who was she?"

"Her name... her name was Sharon, although I doubt I'd have remembered that if she hadn't given it when she called the other day. And I've been trying to remember..." A faraway look appeared in his eyes. "It was last June. Remember? We were in Miami and we had a night off, and we all went a little crazy..."

"Believe me, JC, I remember the night well. Err... most of it, anyway."

"Heh, yeah. My thoughts exactly... I remember most of it. I don't know what it was about this girl, but she was amazing. Sucks to be me, because now I can't even remember what she looked like other than I think she was blond."

"JC, I know it might not be my place to ask, but has there been anybody else since--"

"No, thank God." He sighed with relief. "I don't think I'd be able to live with myself knowing that I infected someone else." He leaned back, a question swimming to the front of his mind. "People are gonna treat me differently now, aren't they?"

"You can almost garuntee it. It's a shame... but human beings these days are so ignorant..."

JC grew silent. Human beings were ignorant... they didn't understand. Parents who didn't understand would forbid their daughters from going to *N Sync concerts because they thought HIV was airborn. In effect, his disease would have an adverse effect on *N Sync's popularity and that was the last thing he wanted. "I don't want to drag you guys down," he said, barely loud enough for Chris to hear.

"Drag us down?" Chris thought on that for a second before he caught on to the meaning of his friend's words. "Have some faith in the human race, JC..."

"I'll try but..." His voice grew louder, more convicted. "I won't be the end of *N Sync."

"JC..."

"Sometimes a branch has to be cut from the tree so that it can grow taller," JC explained, the metaphore meaning more with every second of silence that followed it. "If I'm that branch in this tree, then so be it." He left the dressing room and headed into an empty room down the hall before Chris could see him cry.

CHAPTER FOUR -- NO DAY BUT TODAY

JC did a lot of thinking that day. Not only that day, but the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that. And after all his thinking, he had an epiphany one night while he laid awake on the tour bus as the group rolled toward their next destination. Life was what he made of it, especially now. He didn't know how long he'd be around to reap the benefits of life on God's green earth, and so he had to enjoy what was here for him while was able. God had given him a gift to sing and a chance to share that gift with the world. Now, however, he stood at a crossroads. There were other things he wanted to do with his life before it was over, and now it seemed that the amount of time he had to do these things in had been significantly reduced.

Then there was the matter of *N Sync's popularity. People were starting to talk, he knew they were. People knew, because he hadn't taken any efforts to deny the rumor. Some of them-- some who were wise, some who were educated-- stood behind him 110 percent. Support sites in his honor were springing up on the internet. Cards arrived every day giving him encouragement and hope. Other young people living with HIV and AIDS inspired him, the way they said he had inspired them for so long. Yet there were other people out there-- people who didn't know, people who hadn't learned, people who were afraid-- who shunned him now, and regarded him as a different person. He hated that. It bothered him to no end. But what could he do?

"Yo, Chasez."

JC looked up to find Lance standing behind him. "Hey Lance."

"You look pretty deep in thought."

"I was."

The younger singer nodded, taking a seat next to his friend. They hadn't had any appearances that day, so Lance's hair was messier than usual. In all the memories he'd stored up about his friends over the years, he remembered most about Lance that the bass singer hated looking in the mirror. It almost made him laugh. "I won't insult you by asking what you're thinking about."

"You know something?" JC asked, staring out the window across the room, his piercing blue eyes taking on a distant look. "We've been all over this world, but we've never really SEEN it..."

"Hmmm?" Lance's brow creased, and the emerald of his eyes disappeared for a moment the way it often did when Lance was deep in thought.

"We've done concerts in France, but we've never seen the Eifle Tower," JC elaborated. "Or the Arc du Triomph... and I'd like to. We've been to Australia, but we've never taken the time to appreciate the outback. The Olympics are there this summer... wouldn't it be cool to go? But we won't be able to. And right here in our own country... man. When was the last time we set foot in a town with a population of less than ten thousand?"

Lance studied his older friend's face. He was the same old JC-- patient, gentle, wise-- but there was something else in his eyes now that Lance had never seen there before. It was like something had just dawned on him, right there in that instant, and he was still holding back from saying it aloud because he wanted to think about it first, the way he always wanted to think about things. "Where's this headed, JC?"

"I've realized... that I might not have a lot of time left. And I want to do those things, Lance, on top of others. You know, the doctor said to me... 'this is the end of your life as you know it'. It was. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with *N Sync, and in a sense I did. This new life is leading me in another direction, and I... I have to follow it."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Tears sprang to JC's eyes once again. Then he had to bite back a laugh when he realized just how many tears he must have cried in the past couple of weeks. "I don't want to leave you guys, but... I really feel, right now, like it's the best thing for all of us."

"And what are you going to do instead?" Lance countered, partially out of anger but mostly out of concern for his friend. He understood, but he didn't want JC to go wandering about the world without at least some kind of a plan.

"Well... it makes sense, I guess, for me to become an advocate and spokesperson in the fight against HIV and AIDS. After all, I'm a celebrity... my voice will be heard."

Lance nodded. "Sounds like you've been thinking about this for awhile."

"This ain't exactly the kind of decision a man makes over night."

"We'll support you, you know that. We--" Lance had to pause in order to compose himself. "Do what you gotta do, buddy. Live for today."

"Carpe diem," JC whispered as he enveloped Lance in a hug. "Thank you, my friend."

CHAPTER FIVE -- NOTHING ELSE TO SAY

"As most of you have heard by now, one of us has recently been diagnosed as HIV positive." Chris's announcement mid-concert silenced the screams of the New York crowd. "But what I'm pretty sure most of you don't know is, tonight will be his last concert." *N Sync could almost feel the shock that ran through every one of the fans gathered there that night, and even those watching at home. Tonight's concert was being televised, and it was for that reason that JC had chosen it to be his last. "So tonight, we're going to do something a little different than we normally do at this point in the show and that is, we're going to give him the chance to say goodbye to you in his own way." Chris stepped back to join his friends, hugging JC momentarily before he stepped into the spotlight.

"I know this is a shock to all of you," JC began. he surveyed the crowd. He couldn't believe this was the last time... it brought tears to his eyes. "But I want you to know that it's the best thing for me right now. I love you all, and just because the next time you see *N Sync in concert, or on TV, and I'm not there, that doesn't mean I love you any less. It's just that when I got sick, I realized there are so many things I want to do with my life that... if I don't do them now... I might not get a chance to do, ever." He paused to swallow and catch his breath. "Being sick has taught me a lot of things. It's taught me to appreciate the little things in life. It's taught me to look to my friends--" he turned, and walked back to join them-- "my brothers, whenever I need help. And it's taught me, most importantly, to live for today, because I might not have a tomorrow. And so let this be a lesson to you all... live for today... no day but today." He hugged each of his friends individually, the tears kept back only by the conviction he had to share this song with the crowd. "There is no future... there is no past... thank God this moment's not the last," he sang the opening phrase with such strength and emotion that his friends, standing behind them, had to fight back tears as they joined him in his song.

"There's only us, there's only this... forget regret, or life is yours to miss." *N Sync had always prided themselves on being able to blend so well, to harmonize, but tonight was different. Tonight, JC's voice seemed to come through loud and clear above the rest. He sang with the same soulful tone that he always did, but tonight, it was different. As he dwelled on his words, considering each one and how it held true to him, the tears came. A voice in his heart screamed out to be heard-- No! This was a nightmare, it wasn't real! No! But he pushed on. "No other road, no other day; no day but today."

And that was it. There were other words, but there was nothing else that he had to say. This would be it, it really would. He'd leave now... he'd never do this again, not like this. This... this was what he had to say, and now it would be recorded in the hearts and minds and cassette tapes of little girls all over the country. They'd never forget it. He'd be remembered. But that wasn't really what he cared about. What he cared about was that, in his own way, he was getting his message out to the ignorant, the uneducated, the misinformed... and while in some ways this was the end... it was also the beginning.

An instrumental interlude gave him a chance to stand back and take it all in. He'd remember this night forever, exactly how it was. Thirty thousand screaming fans, and God only knew how many watching at home, reduced to tears. Thirty thousand fans drowned in a hushed silence, dwelling on his every word. The end of the song approached and JC threw himself into it, singing from the very depth of his soul, from someplace inside him he never knew existed until now, when he had a message to share that was so dear to his heart.

"There's only now, there's only here; give into love, or live for fear..." He walked up to the very front edge of the stage and blew a kiss out into the crowd. He could see their tears, could hear their sniffles. But he smiled, and when he did, a few smiles were returned. A single tear slipped down his cheek. This was it. This was how it ended. They loved him, and he was dying. He loved them, but he was dying. All he could do for them was hope they understood his message. "No other path, no other way; no day but today..." And that was it. His job was done. This chapter of his life was complete. And there was nothing else to say.

CHAPTER SIX -- ONE SONG...

"JC! Where are you, man? HOW are you?" Joey made no effort to cover the receiver as he called behind him, "Guys, it's JC!"

"I'm wonderful, except you just blew out my eardrums," JC joked. "What about you guys?"

Joey sat down on the cusioned seats in the front of *N Sync's tourbus. The group was headed for Nashville, where they'd perform for sold out crowds two nights in a row. "We're survivin', ya know... it ain't the same without you, though."

"Yeah, I know. I'm missin' y'all, too." He sighed. "Hard to believe it's been a month since that last concert, huh?"

"Sure is."

"But man... I feel so alive! I've never lived like this... I'm helping people, I'm sharing a message that needs to be shared... and I'm living."

"But are you? Seriously, man, I mean like, health-wise... how're you doing?"

"I'm..." JC bit his lip. He wanted to lie, but he knew that even if he did, Joey would detect the truth in his voice. They knew each other that well. "My T-cell count is falling. I was sick last week... I dunno what it was. But Joe... I feel great."

"Good to hear man. Good to hear."

"Joey!" a third voice entered the conversation on Joey's end. "Is that JC?" Joey must've nodded, because JC didn't hear a verbal reply. "Lemme talk to him!" A moment later, Justin's voice came through over the phone. "JC, man, where've you been hiding yourself?"

"I'm in Hawaii right now," JC replied, reclining in a lounge chair on the beach and pressing his cell phone closer to his ear.

"Hawaii... you lucky dawg. Bring me a seashell, will ya?"

JC's laughter joined that of a group of children playing in the sand nearby. The waves crashed against some rocks, and he marveled at their beauty. "Will do."

"Great. So how'd you manage to get so lucky as to land your ass in Hawaii?"

"I'm takin' a breather... tomorrow I head back to Florida, and I'll be workin' at a summer camp for kids with HIV and AIDS."

"Awesome. Send our regards, aiight?"

"Sure thing, Curly."

"We miss you, you know."

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "I miss you guys, too. But you know I had to do this."

"I know. But hey... if you happen to change your mind, you know we'll welcome you back with open arms."

"Yeah. And hey... you know if you guys ever wanna do a benefit concert..."

"The question isn't if," Justin replied before JC could even finish his thought. "The question is when. We'll do one as soon as we can find three seconds of extra time. And you damn well better be there, and you damn well better sing with us... at least for one song."

"One song," JC whispered under his breath. Louder, he said, "One song... that's what my singing career's come down to, I guess. That's me... one song glory. One song to redeem myself."

"One unforgettable song," Justin corrected. "Don't doubt yourself, JC. You're doing a good thing."

"Is that how I'll be remembered?" he wondered aloud.

"Hmmm?"

"Nothing."

"Alright. Listen, Bro, I gotta go, but don't be a stranger." JC coughed, and Justin's brow creased. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Kay. Talk to you soon."

"You bet."

"Bye JC."

"Bye Justin." JC turned off his cell phone and returned it to his pocket, coughing again. "I'm fine," he repeated to himself. But his cough persisted. When it eventually died, he closed his eyes and leaned back, singing softly to himself the story of his life that lay just ahead. "Find the one song, before the virus takes hold; Glory like a sunset; One song to redeem empty life; Time flies and then-- no need to endure anymore. Time dies..." His serenade to himself was interrupted as the cough returned. This was how it began, he thought to himself. It was eerie; so much so that he shivered. His watch beeped, interrupting any further thought, and he grabbed his bag, selecting a pill bottle and removing one pill, then taking his water bottle from the other side of his chair and swallowed the pill in one gulp. Then he laid back in his lounge chair and closed his eyes again, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.