Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely

1.- Problems in Paradise

Joshua Scott Chazes looked at the empty bed and sighed.

               It was not the first night he saw the bed he was supposed to share with his boyfriend and lover empty. He knew it was not going to be the last. And he didn't know why he kept waiting for the next time.

               When he and Justin meet, he had been totally bewitched by the blonde kid. Justin was merely 14, but that wasn't important for JC. His heart had been stolen in that very second, and Justin had never returned it.

               The day they recorded the last episode of the Mickey Mouse Club, Justin had kissed him.

               A week later, he and JC became a couple. Justin moved in with JC, despite his mother's anger, and started looking for a new job as a choreographer. Because acting wasn't as cool, and just singing was boring.

               JC sold his first song not long after that, and everything seemed solved. They celebrated their first year anniversary by becoming lovers –not that they told anyone. After all, they were still minors back then.

               They still had contacts with his friends from the MMC. Christina Aguilera had been delighted to get JC as part of her team of songwriters, and Britney… Well, Britney had had some troubles accepting that she would never have Justin, but even so she had hired Justin as a choreographer.

               Then they had meet Lance, and the world seemed to bow before them.

               But Justin had changed. And so had JC.

               While Justin wanted to go out clubbing, calling attention to himself, and enjoying his last years as a teen at the same time he was part of one of the most glamorous activities on the world, JC wanted stability. He was 24, and he wanted to think of the future.

               And so, the fights had started.

               The last one was the worst so far, and it had started with something really stupid.

               Justin's hair. The cornrows, that were now almost permanently hidden under bandanas. And JC knew he was being unreasonable, and stupid, and jealous and a lot of other stupid things.

               And he also knew that if he and Justin didn't fix those problems they were having lately, it would be a matter of time before they broke down to pressure.

* * *

2.- Breaking up is hard to do.

"This isn't working, Lance." Joseph Anthony 'Tony' Fatone said, and closed his eyes.

               He was alone in the apartment he shared with his lover of one year, James Lansten Barr, talking to the mirror in their bathroom.

               It had become a ritual of sorts. Every month for the last six months, after waiting for Lance to show up and watching dinner going cold, Tony would get up from his chair in the dinning room, walk to the bathroom and rehearse 'the talk' with his reflexion.

               The talk where he told Lance things were not working for either of them. Where he told Lance they barely saw each other, that even when he loved Lance, Lance was never around, where he told Lance that Lance was married to his job.

               The talk he never actually said to Lance.

               Because saying it to Lance would make it real, and Tony didn't want it to be real. Didn't want to let all the little problems they had been having win.

               So what if Lance was never at home?

               So what if when he was home, he was either working or sleeping?

               So what if no one knew that they were lovers, that they were a couple, because Lance never showed his affection in public, because Lance never mentioned it?

               So what if they hadn't been lovers in the most strict meaning of the word in four months?

               So what?

               Still, Lance loved him.

               Still, when Lance finished work, and wasn't too tired, he hugged Tony, and they kissed, and fell asleep in each other's arms.

               Still, Lance tried to arrive early, and it was a rare occurrence that he didn't.

               And Tony could still ignore the little voice that told him that it was happening more and more often lately, and that he was afraid that one day, Lance wouldn't arrive at all.

               Tony shook his head, turned off the bathroom's light and returned to his bedroom. He knew that Lance would find him asleep, and would sleep in the couch not to disturb him.

               That was another common thing in the Bass-Fatone household.

               They hadn't slept together many nights of the last two months.

               That was why he tired to stay awake, to wait for Lance, even when Lance was probably signing contracts or fixing the last details for the next tour.

               And, in the sea of sorrowful thoughts, Tony still had one hope. Despite all that had happened, Lance had called him to be the Backstreet Boy's hairdresser and make up director. So, when they were on tour, Tony would be with them, and with Lance…

               So maybe things would be better.

               And so, 'the talk' was forgotten… until next month.

* * *

3.- The meaning of being lonely

               Chris looked at the beer in his hand, and sighed.

               He only drank one beer, once a year, and it took a while to get used to the taste. It took a while to be ready to continue with his life.

               Things were going fine, all things considered. Fu man was lifting up the ground, and day by day he got more costumers. Meeting Howie again after all those years had been a little heaven sent, because as the new wardrobe director of the Backstreet Boys, he and the store would have a lot more exposure.

               Plus, it was nice to see someone from 'before'.

               Before leaving college, before an endless chain of jobs in Gap, Sears, and a thousand different stores.

               Before Asher.

               The mere thought of the name gave him strength to drink one more gulp of the golden beverage.

               Asher was the reason why he stopped drinking, and the reason why he drank one beer, once a year, in that particular day.

               Asher, with his blue eyes that sparkled when he looked at Chris, and his reddish hair that seemed to be on fire. Asher with his contagious laughter and his crazy dreams.

               Asher, who had died in a car accident, just three years ago.

               Chris hadn't been with him that day. He had been busy finding founding for Fu man skeeto, and planning things for their anniversary. He planned to surprise Asher with a candlelight dinner, even when he was the worst cook in Orlando. Instead, he had spend their anniversary in the morgue, identifying the body.

               Asher had been hit by a drunken driver, who once he sobered up, was apologetic and devastated. Not that that would give Chris any consolation. That day, even when Chris had never been so drunk that he couldn't walk, and he had never drove under the influence
of alcohol, Chris had stopped drinking altogether. He hoped the driver did the same, but he really didn't care.

               Life had gone on without Asher. Chris had gotten the founding, had managed to open the store, and a few chain stores were interested in carrying his line. He had made new friends, but no one shared his life.

               Because even if he hated to be alone, Chris couldn't bring himself to let Asher go.