Golden Phoenix

Golden Phoenix
Disclaimer: Not true because we all know that Joey doesn't drink at all, right?
Rating: NC-17 overall. And yes, there will be violence, including rape.
Summary: ~Joey has always been willing to accept his fate as an alcoholic
until...~
Author's Notes:  I never expected anyone to be reading this story or any story I
wrote for that matter. This great even though I don't get any feedback. It still
feels good to know that you are being read. Thanks.
Other Affiliates:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NSAngst
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Ndecent_Pleasures
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Little_Boy_Blue
http://www.friendsnlovers.cjb.net

Golden Phoenix

Disclaimer: Completely fictitious.

Rating: NC-17 just to be safe. 

 

~Golden Phoenix I~

 

Joey's father was an alcoholic. And his father's father was an alcoholic. And
his father's father's father died after drowning himself in wine. So, it was
only a matter of time that Joey would soon fall victim to the God of Wine. Soon.
It was in his genes. He was predisposed to suffer the same fate that his father
and his father's father, and his father's father's father had suffered,
alcoholism.

Sitting at the nightclub he often frequented whenever *Nsync was in town, he
downed another shot of hard liquor and then demanded another and another. He had
a bad day today. Hell, he had been having a bad day all week, all month. Johnny
had confronted him right before the concert tonight about his weight
fluctuations. The bastard told him he was gaining too much weight too fast. He
threatened to strip away his singing lines as if he had many to begin with if he
did not trim down by the end of the tour. It was always about his weight
problem. If not that, it was about his inadequacies as a singing tenor. If not
his singing, it was about his overly flirtatious ways with fans. If not that,
there was always something else. There was always something wrong with Joey.
Joey was never perfect. Joey would never be perfect. Joey was a useless piece of
human shit who should be thankful to have friends who would let him feed off of
them because he did crap.

"Another one?" Bartender Mike asked.

No answer. Joey simply slid the glass across the bar to Mike for a refill.

"Hard day?"

"Hard fuckin' life." Joey said, downing another shot, and then throwing the
empty glass toward Bartender Mike.

"You know you shouldn't drink too much. Ever since you stepped through that door
two hours ago, all you've been doing is drinking."

"My father's an alcoholic. And now I'm an alcoholic. So just give me my drink,
pretty boy."

Bartender Mike shrugged and refilled yet another glass of liquor. Joey drank the
liquid contents of the glass as soon as the glass touched his hand. He attempted
to get up, but the alcohol was affecting his motor skills and soon he found
himself on the floor.

While on the floor, his eyes fell upon a ravishing woman dancing in the cage.
She was a voluptuous beauty with short wavy brown locks with streaks of wild
blonde. Scantily clad like all the dancers in the club, her attire left little
to the imagination. He wanted her. He wanted to be inside her. He want to fuck
her. He was going to fuck her.

The group's flirt- the bad apple among the good mama's boys. It was expected of
him. And Joey was going to live up to his expectations. Every night there would
be a new conquest. Men, women, it didn't matter to Joey so long as he got laid.
After all he had a reputation to maintain.

In the corner of his eyes, he saw Dancer blondie leaving her cage. He pushed
himself off the floor. In his stupor, he stumbled after her. He waited for her
as she reclaimed her coat from the coat girl. She left the club and he followed
suit. As she round the corner, he was right in her face. He grabbed her by the
arm and pushed her against the wall. She struggled against his weak grip and was
successfully able to push the superman off of her.

"What the fuck!" Joey tended his bleeding lip. "Do you know who I am, bitch?!"

"Fuck you!" Dancer Blondie fired back. "Just because you're Joey Fatone from
*Nsync don't mean that every damn women want to fuck you. Get over your fuckin'
self. You're nothing but a fuckin' piece of shit. I know what you did to Nicole.
You fucked her the last time you were here and left her without saying a fuckin'
good bye. Fuck you, you piece of shit!"

Piece of shit. Lou was right. He was nothing but a piece of shit. A worthless
piece of shit.

"Justin. Justin."

Slowly, the sleeping boy opened his eyes wearily.

"Yeah, Josh." He whispered inaudibly.

"You feeling better?"

"A little." The boy attempted to smile weakly, but he couldn't stifle the
impending cough and he coughed in his best friend's face.

"That doesn't sound too good." JC smiled back, tucking the boy under the sheets.
"I'm going to get you some more of the cold/flu shit Lonnie bought earlier."

"Don't go." Justin quickly latched onto JC.

"I won't be long."

"What if you don't come back?"

"Don't be silly."

"It's 1 am, what if something happened to you. Please don't go. I'm feeling
better already. Feel my head." Justin pleaded with his best friend, taking JC's
palm and placed it on his forehead. "See. All cool."

"Justin, you ran out of your medication. I'm going to get Todd to come along
with me and we'll be fine. We're big boys. We can take care of ourselves." JC
argued. "You just rest here in bed and I'll be back shortly with your next
dose."

Justin nodded as he sunk into the depths of his bed. Pulling the sheet over his
head, he pressed further into the pillow. He closed his eyes, trying to will
himself to sleep despite the aches and pains of his ailing body. He had to get
better for everyone. Tonight, he almost collapsed in front of a crowd of 20,000
screaming fans. He had to get better or the tour would be cancelled. For the
sake of the group, Justin was determined to beat this flu.

Still heavily intoxicated, Joey had no clue how he had managed to get back to
the hotel. All he remembered was when Dancer Blondie left him in the streets, a
cab had pulled over. Cab driver Tom asked him if he was Joey Fatone and he
answered, "Fuck, yeah! I'm the great Joey Fatone of *Nsync." And the next thing
he remembered, Cab driver Tom pulled him off the streets and deposited his
drunken ass in the cab and drove him back to the hotel.

"What's this?" Cab driver Tom questioned, as Joey handed him a wad of twenties.

"Fee for your service."

"Keep it. The ride was already paid for. Now you get your drunken ass inside
before you get into more trouble tonight."

"Yes, daddy." Joey saluted Cab driver Tom as he sped off into the night.

"Asshole. Who the fuck you think you are telling me what to do," Joey muttered
under his breath as he flipped up the birdie.

He turned around and stumbled his way into the hotel. At this late into the
night, even the perkiest, most cheerful receptionist wanted nothing more than to
sleep. He hollered at her a few times and she ignored him, threatening to call
security if he didn't get his shitty ass in his room.

A few more "fuck you's" later and Joey was on his way to his room on the fifth
floor. He stumbled into the hallway. Squinting his eyes, he stared straight
ahead, and then he made a right turn and headed down the hallway toward his
room. He opened the door and in his stupor, he quietly closed the door, hushing
himself. He staggered toward his bed when he noticed the light emitting from
under the bathroom door. He tiptoed his way toward the door and pushed the door
slightly. He peeked through the aperture and stared at his bandmate, his friend
as he patted his body dry with a terri cloth towel. He watched with much rapture
as the boy turned around and bend over to dry his legs and feet. Muscular back.
Long legs. Smooth, tight ass. He found himself getting hard at the mere thought
of ramming his hard cock into that tight ass. He continued to fixate on the boy
as he put on his boxers and wifebeater at an excruciatingly painful slow pace.

Joey cleared his throat to warrant the boy's attention.

"What are you doing here?"

"Um...taking a shower." Justin stammered.

"I can see that."

"I was hot and Chris was using the bathroom so I came across the hall to your
room to use your bathroom." Justin explained. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Joey stepped forward, closing the gap between them. "Because I'm
not." Joey breathed heavily on the nape of the boy's neck. The alcohol lingering
on Joey's breath left Justin feeling even more nauseated. "Justin, boy have you
grown." Joey reached in between their bodies to grab hold of Justin's dick and
gave it a painful squeeze. "So big."

Justin, alarmed by his friend's behavior, slapped Joey's hand and pushed him
away. He watched as Joey tumbled back toward the bathtub.

"I'm going now. I am going to pretend this never happened because you're
obviously drunk, again. You should rest before JC comes back. He wouldn't be too
happy to see you drunk, again." Justin said, before turning around quickly for
the door.

He was too slow, too late. Joey lunged toward him, tackling him to the floor.
Joey quickly turned Justin over and pinned him on the floor with the weight of
his body.

"Get off of me, Joey!" Justin shrieked. "Let go of me! Let go of me, Joe!" The
tears finding to the surface of his face. "What the fuck are you doing?!" Justin
screamed as Joey shoved his hand through the slit of his boxers to grip his
phallus in a tight fist.

"Shut the fuck up and enjoy it like the little whore that you are!" Joey slammed
the boy the hard against the floor.

The impact knocked Justin out momentarily as Joey proceeded to undress above
him. Justin's eyelids cast over his misty blues as articles of clothing fell on
the floor beside him. Soon Joey stood before him naked. Joey nudged apart
Justin's legs with his foot, inching closer and closer to Justin's crotch until
his foot pressed against Justin's crotch. Joey fell on top of Justin, crushing
the sensitive organ between his legs with his knee upon impact. Justin yelped in
pain and fought back tears. Hands and legs flailing everywhere as Justin tried
desperately to gain control of the situation. Despite all the strength he had,
Joey was much too strong and he empowered him easily. His clothes, the little
that he wore, was ripped off his body, leaving him naked to Joey's assault of
his body. The man he considered his big brother, the man he considered his best
friend, sexually assaulted him as he groped him roughly, and then rammed his
hard cock inside him, tearing him in half. The penetrations, rough and shallow
burned him, pained him to no end. He lay on the floor, helplessly, as Joey
continued to violate him for nearly half an hour. Half an hour of agonizing pain
before Joey withdrew from inside him for the last time. He remained on the floor
as Joey walked over him and climbed onto his bed. The lamp turned off, leaving
Justin to cry in the dark. He curled up into an infantile position and wept
quietly to himself until there was no more tear to shed.

Justin could hear Joey's rhythmic breathing and knew that he had fallen asleep.
Not wishing to spend another second in Joey's room, Justin began to crawl his
way across the room toward the door. He pulled himself off the floor and opened
the door when his escape was impeded.

"Justin, oh my God!" Chris shrieked when Justin collapsed into his arms in the
middle of the hallway. Chris's eyes wondered about Justin's body. Nothing stood
out more than the crimson blood that covered Justin's lower body. "What
happened?" Chris got down on his knees, cradling Justin's head in his hands.

"Just get me out of here." Justin managed to say. "Just get me out of here
before JC comes back, please. JC can't know about this."

"Okay. Okay." Chris nodded, stripping off his flannel shirt to place it over
Justin's lower body.

"Know about what?"

Alarmed, Chris abandoned Justin to floor and slowly turned around to find JC
just inches away. Todd right behind.

"What shouldn't I know about, Chris?" JC demanded to know.

The firm voice echoed throughout the hall, waking up the occupants of the fifth
floor. All their bodyguards emerged from their rooms to join Todd. JC stepped
closer toward Chris when he noticed Justin on the floor with a flannel shirt
thrown flimsily over his lower body. The once white flannel shirt now stained
with Justin's blood. Chris inched away from Justin, gently resting the boy on
the floor. JC moved in between the two friends and cradled Justin's head in his
lap. Leaning down to place a delicate kiss on Justin's forehead, JC turned
around to usher the bodyguards back into their rooms. All, but Lonnie, returned
to their sleeping quarters.

"Tell me what happened?" JC asked in a whispering tone.

Justin shook his head and tried to push JC away when JC tightened his grip on
Justin's arm. The shirt fell to the floor, revealing what JC had known all
along. Justin's body was covered with blotches of blacks and blues. His penis
was painfully inflamed. And there was blood. Blood coming from one source.

"Justin, were you raped?" JC asked.

This time Justin merely nodded, dropping to the floor in a huddled mess of
tears.

"Who did this?" JC turned around to face Chris. "Who fuckin' did this to him?!"

"I don't know, JC." Chris answered. "But I found him coming out of Joey's room."

"Joey. Fuckin' Joey." JC returned his attention to the sobbing boy on the floor
and squeezed his arm reassuringly before walking over him to deal with his
bandmate, his best friend.

JC flung the door opened and found the bed empty. He trekked further into the
suite, noticing Justin's torn clothes scattered on the floor. His eyes narrowed
in on Justin's blood that had smeared on the floor.

"Joey! Where the fuck are you?!" JC yelled.

There was no answer, but he could definitely hear Joey puking in the bathroom.
He flung the door opened and indeed his suspicions were true. He grabbed Joey by
the hair and dragged him out of the bathroom and threw him against the wall.
Joey slumped to the floor and gave out a little laugh.

"That hurt." He laughed.

"You fuckin' son of a bitch. What is it, Joe?! You haven't fucked enough people
that you decided to fuckin' rape your own little brother?!" JC yelled.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Justin! Justin!" JC screamed in his face. "You fuckin' raped Justin!"

"Oh, yeah. I remembered his tight little ass now." Joey laughed further.

Joey's drunken giggles threw JC over the edge and the next thing he knew he was
all over Joey, pounding his fist in Joey's face until Todd and Dre rushed inside
to restrain him.

"Let me go! Let me go! I'm going to fuckin' kill this bastard!" JC roared,
struggling to free himself of the human restraints.

"JC!" Chris cried out from outside the hall.

"What is it, Chris? I need to kill this bastard first?" JC responded, still
reaching out for Joey's motionless body.

"It's Justin. He's not conscious." Chris wailed.

JC rushed back into the hallway as Lonnie pushed Chris away to tend his charge.

JC cradled Justin in his arms, shaking him, trying to resuscitate some life into
the lifeless body.

"Justin. Justin. Wake up, buddy. Wake up, buddy." JC cried out, pulling Justin
closer to his chest.

"Someone call the ambulance!" Lonnie cried out loud.

Chris quickly got to his feet and ran back inside his room to make the desperate
call to save his two little brothers.

"I need an ambulance right now."



(c) 2001 Aphrodite for Friends & Lovers

Golden Phoenix

Disclaimer: Completely fictitious.

Rating: NC-17 just to be safe. 

 

~Golden Phoenix II~

 

As the cab round the corner toward the hotel his bandmates were staying, all
Lance could see in the distant night were flashing lights.  The cab drove closer
and all Lance could hear were the sinister sirens.  Lance rushed out of the cab
and all Lance could sense was commotion.  An ambulance was parked in front of
the hotel and Lance swiftly maneuvered his way through the crowd in time to see
Justin being hauled into the waiting ambulance. He ran toward the ambulance, but
he was too late as the doors slammed shut.  

"Step away from the vehicle, Sir." The EMT told him.

Lance whirled around in search of his other friends. What happened tonight? He
needed answers.  In the corner of his eyes, he saw JC storming towards him. 
Chris not far behind.  JC didn't appear to see him as he walked right by him to
the front of the ambulance. Lance had to clutch onto his arm to stop him from
getting away.

"What happened, JC? What happened to Justin?" Lance was breathless, spitting out
his questions.

"Your fuckin' boyfriend raped him.  That's what happened." JC pried off his
fingers and pushed him to the ground and then he left.  The ambulance left.
Everyone left, leaving Lance numbed of feelings on the dirty ground of the San
Diego streets.

"It can't be true. It can't be true." Lance kept repeating, shaking his head.

But it was true.  The next ambulance carried a beaten Joey to the same hospital
Justin was taken.  Joey was beaten by JC because he had touched Justin.  JC,
generally a well controlled man, would never resort to violence unless Justin
was involved.  And he would never hurt any of his friends unless something
terrible had happened to Justin.

"Why? Why did this happen?" Lance cried into Chris' chest.  "When I left
everything was fine.  I just had to meet with a client."

"I don't know." Chris assured him.  "Joey was drunk and Justin just happened to
be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"How bad?"

"Who?"

"Both of them."

"Justin...there was a lot of blood. Plus, since he was ill and dehydrated, it
just made matters worse.  As for Joey, he'll be alright.  Todd and Dre got there
in time to stop JC from killing him." Chris explained, hugging his best friend
even tighter.

They finally gathered their composure and joined the others in another vehicle
en route to the hospital.  When they arrived at the hospital, they found JC
slumped in one of the chairs. His head rested on the palm of his hand.  He
lifted his head upon hearing his name.

"JC, how's Justin doing?" Chris asked, sitting down next to his best friend to
provide some form of comfort. 

"They're giving him some IV fluids." JC said, exhaustion evident in his voice. 
"He's in a lot of pain. They had to knock him out to insert the tubes."

"Everything's going to be alright, Jayce." Chris assured him, patting him on the
back. 

Lance stepped a little closer to JC, still afraid of his best friend. But he had
to know. He had to know how his boyfriend was doing.  He took a deep breath and
took another step toward JC.

"And Joey, how's he doing?" Lance whispered, softly, as if afraid to let anyone
hear him.

"What?!" JC vaulted out of his chair in a hurry. "You're asking about him. He's
the fuckin' one who caused all of this!"

"That's enough, JC." Chris said.  "It wasn't Lance.  He didn't do anything
wrong.  And you know Joey would never touch Justin if he were sober."

"That's it, Chris." JC abandoned Lance to lash out at Chris.  "He's always
causing trouble when he's drunk. We told him a million times to fuckin' get his
act together.  And now, and now...Justin is lying in that hospital bed with a
tube attached to him because Joey was a little too drunk and he hadn't fucked
anyone so he went after his very sick kid brother who couldn't defend himself."

"I know. I know. You don't think I know all of this?!" Chris shot back. "But
there's no point in assigning blame. Justin is hurt. No matter what you do now,
you can't change the past. Joey has a problem. He has a major problem. We can't
abandoned him while he's in need. I love Justin. Hell, I adore the kid. He's my
baby brother, but I love Joey, too. He's my little brother, also.  So, let's all
calm down and when Joey is awake, we'll talk to him. When Justin is healed,
we'll help him get through this hell of a life he's led.  We have to be strong
for them, both of them."

"Fine." JC sighed, returning to his seat.

Lance mouthed his thank you to Chris who simply shook his head and then sat back
down.  Instead of sitting with his friends, Lance opted to sit beside his
bodyguard Randy, who was so kind to give him the much needed hug. 

"It's okay. Everything will be okay, kiddo." Randy whispered soothing words into
his ears. 

But would everything be okay? Lance did not know.  And he was unsure if
everything would be okay, again, if Joey did not seek help for his problem.   
Nothing would be the same, again.



The morning sun finally arose from sleep to greet the *Nsync family as they
opened their eyes to another day.  Chris was the first to wake up from slumber.
He found JC's head positioned in an awkward position on the arm of the chair. 
Carefully, he shifted JC's head to lean against the chair. He got up on his feet
and let out a quiet yawn. He turned around to fetch some coffee for everyone
when he noticed Joey limping into the lobby.

"Joe."

At the immediate mentioning of Joey's name, JC perked up. He rose to his feet
and without much thought and consideration to the patrons of the hospital, he
charged Joey, dragging him by his bandaged arm further inside the lobby.

"Let go of my arm!" Joey shrieked as JC pushed him onto the seat.

Joeys' shrill prompted everyone to their feet and they all gathered around him
except Lance who chose to stay in the background with Randy.  Joey glared into
each of the accusing eyes as they stared down at him with fueling anger.

"What the fuck happened last night?" JC interrogated him.

"What happened last night?!" Joey responded with a question.

"You don't fuckin' know what you did last night? You fuckin' raped Justin. What
is it, Joe? You couldn't find someone to fuck for the night, so you decided to
go after Justin?"

Flashbacks of the night before bombarded Joey. He remembered now. He remembered
drinking at the club. He remembered Bartender Mike. He remembered Dancer
Blondie. He remembered Cab driver Tom. He remembered Justin now. He remembered
all the screaming. He remembered the struggling. He remembered all the tears.
God, he remembered raping Justin as he begged him to stop.  He cried out,
holding his head in his hands.

"I need to get an advil. My head hurts." Joey stood up, pushing aside everyone.

JC quickly went after him, slamming his broken body hard against the wall. 

"Where the fuck are you going?" JC glared into his eyes. His crystal blue eyes
cold as ice.

"To get a fuckin' advil!" Joey cried out. When JC did not budge and continued
with his verbal assault, Joey pushed JC off of him and shot back angrily. "So
what? I fucked Justin. He's a fuckin' whore anyway.  He was fucked once already,
so what's the big deal that I fucked him?"

"You fuckin' bastard!" JC punched Joey in the face, sending him to the ground.

"What is it, JC? You pissed that it wasn't your cock ramming into his tight
ass?!" Joey challenged.

"Fuck you! I love Justin. Sure I want to fuck him, but I'm his friend. And if I
hear you call him a whore one more time, I swear to God I'll fuckin' kill you.
Justin did not ask to be raped by that fat bastard who claimed to be our father
figure and he sure as hell did not ask to be raped by his big brother.  Burn in
hell, Joey.  You're nothing but a worthless piece of shit."

JC spat on Joey, before stepping over him to find Justin's room down the hall.
Lonnie quickly followed suit.  Chris just shook his head in disappointment as he
joined JC and Lonnie. The others all stepped over him, ignoring him for fear
that they could not control their anger. And soon, the once filled lobby was
completely empty save for the pair of legs standing on the ground before him.

"Lance."

"Get up."

Joey struggled to his feet on his own. He leaned against the wall for support. 
Ashamed to look at his boyfriend in the eyes, Joey focused on the leather shoes
instead.

"We need to talk. Outside.  Now."

Joey merely nodded. He limply followed Lance's lead. He kept his eyes on the
ground, never once looking up.  He did not want to face his boyfriend. He could
not face his Lance. 

For the first time in days, the sun was out. It had been raining, Joey
remembered. Whenever it rained for some reason, Joey felt he needed to drink to
pass the time.  Then again, he always drank. The weather outside did not dictate
his drinking habits. He would always find some excuse to drink.  The wine bottle
he carried with him all the time was his one true friend, who always accepted
him for who he was, Joey Fatone, an alcoholic. 

"What's wrong with me?" Lance suddenly asked.

The question took Joey by surprise. Why was Lance asking him this question? Did
he not know that the third best thing in his life was Lance Bass, the Christian
boy from Mississippi?

"What?"

"You heard my question. Look at me." Lance gazed into his eyes. Their eyes
locked.  "What's wrong with me? What's it about Justin that made you go after
him?  You know how insecure I feel when it comes to Justin."

"Oh, Lance." Joey was at a lost for words. How could he explain his actions from
the night before?  "It wasn't Justin. It could have been anyone. He was just
there."

"Okay." Still not satisfied, Lance probed further.  "Do I not satisfied you
enough? Is that why despite the fact that we've been together for two fuckin'
years, you still need to fuck every walking person that cross your path? What is
it, Joey?!"

"Nothing! Nothing!" Joey grabbed Lance by his wrist, pulling him closer to him. 
"Nothing is wrong with you. I was drunk, okay. I was drunk. And when I'm drunk,
I do stupid things. I can't help myself.  This is my fate, Lance! This is what I
am. You knew about me when we first got together. It didn't stop you from
crawling into my bed.  You knew that I can't live without sex. You knew that I
can't live without my alcohol."

"I guess you can live without me, then." Lance dislodged himself from Joey's
bear hug and began his trek inside the hospital once more.

Joey silently cursed himself. What the fuck was he saying? He quickly shot to
his feet and intercepted Lance's path.  He pulled Lance to the side of the
building and planted a kiss on Lance's lips. Lance did not return the kiss.

"I love you.  You mean the world to me.  It's just I can't help myself from
drinking sometimes.  I know that I have to stop, but I can't bring myself to put
that glass down. Lance, you know me. My father's an alcoholic. My father's
father's-"

"I know. Your father's father's an alcoholic. Your father's father's father died
after drowning himself in wine.  I fuckin' hear this excuse a thousand times I
can recite it by heart. You were dealt a bad card.  But I have news for you,
Joey, you are not your father. You are Joey Fatone. You can carve out your own
destiny.  You don't have to accept this fate. If you can't see that your
drinking problem hurt Justin, then I don't know what will. What will it take,
Joe? You want to hurt me, too, before you seek help?"

"No. God, no." Joey shook his head, holding onto Lance's hands.  "I love you."

"Sometimes love just isn't enough." Lance said softly.

Joey let his hands fall out of grasp.  He watched as Lance walked past him.  He
watched as Lance ran his fingers through his spiked blonde hair. He watched as
Lance disappeared into the hospital. 

"I still love you, baby."





(c) 2001 Aphrodite for Friends & Lovers

Golden Phoenix III


"Justin. Justin." Chris called out softly into the room, careful not to raise
his voice too high to disturb the other patrons of the hospital. "I got you your
favorite cereal, Curly.  Apple Jacks."

Chris budged open the door and invited himself in with a bowl of Apple Jacks
immersed in low fat milk.  As soon as his eyes fell upon the empty bed, the bowl
crashed onto the floor. Justin was gone. How could he be gone? Last night, he
was lying in his bed, attached to tubes.  Now, he was gone.  There was no sight
of Justin anywhere. The only thing that remained in the hospital room was the
envelope addressed to everyone.

"JC! JC! Get in here!" Chris shrieked. 

Within seconds, JC was in the room, tearing at the envelope as everyone crowded
by the door.  All eyes focused on JC as he read the letter out loud.


Dear everyone,

I know that it's wrong of me to just leave like that without saying goodbye, but
I have to get away. Sometimes I wonder if there is something wrong with me. Am I
doing something wrong? Why does this keep happening to me? I'm ashamed to show
my face. I need to get away. I need time to myself. Don't worry, Josh, I'll be
okay. I called mom last night. I'm going to go to Europe and stay with her for a
little while.  Please don't be too harsh on Joey. He didn't know what he was
doing. He was drunk.  I forgave him and you all should, too.  Good bye.

Love always,

Justin.

The letter fell to the floor as JC sunk to the bed.  Justin was gone.  

The colossal airport made it nearly impossible to locate anyone in the crowd.
Joey spun around several times, trying to find Justin before he left for Europe.
He had to talk to him. He had to apologize to him at the very least. He had to
explain himself to him. He just had to.

Pushing through hoards of people, Joey weaved his way in and out of traffic.  He
jumped up and down a few times so he could see above the crowd for any signs of
his best friend.  At last his perseverance paid off.  To the far left was
Justin, sitting in the chair with Lonnie in the seat right next to him. 

"Justin! Justin!" Joey hollered across the airport. 

Upon hearing Joey's voice, Justin quickly got up and proceeded to walk away with
the aid of a cane. He was trying to get away from him. His best friend feared
him now.  He ran after Justin, but Lonnie intercepted his path, preventing him
from going any further.  He pleaded with Lonnie desperately. He had to apologize
to Justin. He just had to. Lonnie reluctantly agreed to let Joey cross by him.
He ran after Justin, successfully meeting up with him.

"Justin. Justin."

Justin refused to look at him. He continued to speed ahead. As Joey picked up
his pace, so did Justin until exhaustion and pain took precedence over his body
and Justin needed to rest.  He quickly turned into the restroom.  Joey quickly
caught up with his best friend. He reached out for his arm when Justin swiftly
swirled around.

"Stay away from me." Justin said to him, aiming the cane at him.  Still, Joey
stepped closer.  "Don't come near me, Joey.  Please just let me be."

The pain in Justin's pleading voice broke his heart.  Justin collapsed onto the
floor, supporting his body with his hand. In no time, Justin was in tears.  The
image of his weeping friend was reminiscent of a couple of nights before.  And
for the first time in a long time, Joey realized the extent of his problem. Joey
cautiously sat next to Justin. He cautiously reached for him and when Justin
leaned into him, Joey breathed in a sigh of relief. 

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Justin." Joey repeated.

Justin gave no verbal response. Only more tears were shed from his watery eyes.
There was nothing Joey could say or do that would change the fact that Justin
was raped by his best friend, someone he had trusted sincerely.

"I know you were drunk, but it still hurts." Justin cried.  "It still hurts."

"I know. I'm so sorry for hurting you."

"What's worse than the rape itself were the words you said to me when you raped
me. You called me a whore, Joey. You told me that I deserved everything that was
happening to me." Justin explained.

"I didn't mean them. I swear, Justin, I love you. I didn't mean anything. I
never meant to hurt you."

"But you did." Justin finally calmed down.  "I can forgive you, Joey, but for
the rest of my life, I can never forget what happened to me in that room that
night."

"Justin.  I don't know how many more times I can say this, but I'm sorry. I'm
truly sorry for causing you so much pain."

"You kept apologizing to me when there's someone who deserves your apology as
much as I do."

And then he it occurred to him. 

"Lance."

"There's no point of feeling remorse if you won't do something about it."

"Justin, I-"

"I know you were drunk and that's why even though I hate what you did to me, I
can't hate you because I know that you didn't mean to hurt me. But it still
hurts.  Not just my body, but my heart.  Joey, I trusted you."

"I know."

"Now, I can't even look you straight in the eyes without getting emotional about
it."

"What can I do to correct this? To mend you?"

"I'll heal, Joey." Justin told him.  "Like you said, this isn't the first time.
I should get used to it by now. I'll be okay.  I'll find a way to regain my
life. But..."

"But what?" Joey probed.  "Anything, Justin, you have it."

"What you can do for me, for Lance, but most importantly for yourself is get
help." Justin said. 

"Get help?"

"Yes. Help. Only then can I start forgetting what happened that night."

"Justin, I don't know." Joey admitted, honestly. "I don't think I can do it. I'm
not strong enough."

"Then how the hell am I'm supposed to do it?!"  Justin shouted in frustration. 

No response.

Justin sighed deeply, getting up and heading towards the door.  Joey would never
change. He would never seek help.

"Good bye, Joey."

Joey wanted nothing more than to run after Justin, beg him to stay, promise him
to get help, but Joey couldn't bring himself to move. He watched as Justin
limped his way out of the restroom. He could see Lonnie as the door closed once
more, but not before catching a glimpse of the hatred in Lonnie's eyes.  Joey
decided not too long ago that it was pointless to mope around in the restroom.
What good did it do anyways? Nothing. Justin was still gone. Justin was still on
his way to Europe. And he was still the cause of Justin's sudden departure from
the group. 

He left the airport. Instead of catching a cab like he would usually do, Joey
decided that he needed a walk to reflect if anything at all.  What his life had
become and how alcohol had affected his life.  What his life would become if he
did not stop drinking.  He didn't want to die with a bottle of wine in hands.
That was not how he wanted people to remember him, especially Lance. Lance. His
saviour. He remembered the words Justin echoed to him in the restroom.  Although
so very young, with all the shit he had gone through, Justin was wise beyond his
years. Joey owed not only to Justin, but also to Lance to seek help.  Lance had
always been there for him. He was always at his side even when no one else
seemed to care.  God. He loved Lance.  Everything about Lance was perfect in his
eyes, especially his jaded green eyes. Joey loved gazing into them for sometimes
if he looked close enough, he could see his future in Lance's eyes.  A future he
wanted to have with Lance, and Lance alone.


"Hey, Joe. Back for more?" Bartender Mike asked.

"No." Joey said, simply.

"Sure?" 

He had intended to stop by the nightclub to inform Mike and the other bartenders
that he was no longer coming to the club and then tip them for their continual
service even when he was a drunken bastard.  That was his intentions. He wanted
to tell them that there were places he would rather be than at their club. In
Lance's arms in their bed.  Nothing felt more like home than in Lance's arms. 
His intentions were good.  Were good.

Bartender Mike offered to buy Joey one last drink. Joey refused the drink, but
Mike insisted. To celebrate the turning of a new leaf, he said.  Glasses raised
in the air, Joey took his first sip of the champagne. Another sip and another.
His weakness getting the best of him and an hour after he had arrived, Joey was
on the floor, licking the spilled alcohol off the floor. Mighty good alcohol,
according to Joey.

He did not remember much about that night. He did not remember going upstairs
and fucking bartender Mike while calling out Lance's name.  He did not remember
the tears in his boyfriend's eyes as he stood in the doorway witnessing his
boyfriend thrusting into the bartender.  He did not remember the fight they had
right outside the club. And he sure as hell did not remember slapping Lance
across the face, sending his boyfriend to the ground, as patrons looked on.  He
did not remember when Lance half carried him to the cab or the tears that were
shed from Lance's eyes during the solemn cab ride back to the hotel. He did not
remember when Lance rubbed his back as he vomited into the toilet.  He never
remembered much about the nights of his drinking binges. He would rather forget
them.  They were never pleasant memories he wanted to look back on. Better left
forgotten.

It was morning, again.  The blinding sunlight shone pass through the sheer
curtains and struck Joey in the face. Squinting his eyes, he turned around,
expecting a body pressed against him.  Joey's eyes shot wide open with the
realization.  Fear of Lance finally having enough and leaving him drained the
color from his face. He vaulted out of bed, ready to sprint across the hall in
search of his boyfriend when he noticed Lance sitting out in the balcony by
himself.

Reaching inside the nightstand for an Advil, Joey quickly swallowed the tiny
pill, neglecting to even find water to wash it down.  His priority right now was
his boyfriend.

Joey cautiously stepped out of bed. His head pounded tremendously still even
though it had been hours since he had his last glass.  With enough
concentration, Joey successfully made his way to the balcony without falling
down.  Once outside, he quietly sat on the chair next to Lance.

"Been out here long?" He asked.

"Since last night." Lance answered. His gaze, away from Joey, still focused on
the luscious green garden down below. 

"You didn't come to bed last night?" Joey asked.

"No."

"No? And why not? What's wrong, Lance?  Talk to me."

Joey grabbed Lance's arm and shifted his body towards.  He gasped at the sight
before him. He could not see Lance's beautiful green eyes past the swollen
eyelid.

"This is why." Lance murmured, pointing to his left eye.

"Oh, my God, Lance, it wasn't me, was it?"

"It's always you."

"Lance, I-"

"Joey, last night, you hit me.  Not the first time so I brushed it off. You were
drunk.  Hell, I even forgave you for fucking that bartender.  But as I watched
you got sick on the tiled bathroom floor of the hotel, sweating profusely and
shaking so hard, as you puked your brains out, I realized that I could no longer
live like this anymore.  As I put you in bed last night, I decided that I will
no longer crawl into your bed."

"Lance, please-"

"I didn't finish." Lance interrupted him.  Taking Joey's hands in his, Lance
continued, "I will no longer crawl into your bed until you seek help for your
drinking problem.  This is for the best. For me. But most importantly, for you.
I love you. I'll always love you. I don't think I can ever stop loving you."

"I love you, too." Joey cried.  "But I don't know if I can do it."

"You'll never know if you don't try."

"I'm scared, Lance.  What if I can't do it?"

"Honestly, I am, too.  But we can't let the fear of failure stop you trying.
Will you please try for us?"

As hard a feat it was to break this destructive cycle of alcohol abuse, one look
into Lance's pleading jaded eyes, Joey couldn't say no. He nodded slowly, vowing
that he would die trying to stop drinking.


(c) 2001 Aphrodite for Friends & Lovers

Golden Phoenix
Disclaimer: Completely fictitious.
Rating: NC-17 overall. And yes, there will be violence, including rape.
Summary: ~Joey has always been willing to accept his fate as an alcoholic
until...~
Author's Notes:  Thank you to the one person who emailed me. Thanks.
Other Affiliates:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NSAngst
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Ndecent_Pleasures
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Little_Boy_Blue
http://www.friendsnlovers.cjb.net



Golden Phoenix IV


Joey had always known all along that he had a problem. A very serious problem.
Ever since he first licked the beer cans scattered on the floor of his parents'
living room as his father watched football with his friends, Joey knew that one
day, he would be just like his daddy. Like father, like son. Hell, even Steve
was an alcoholic. Why would he be so lucky as to escape this fate? He accepted
it after spending his entire senior year in high school relaxing and enjoying
his weekends by drinking until he longer could stand up straight. He remembered
meeting Dany for the first time and how drawn he was to the slender bottle of
ice cold beer encased by her hand.  He loved her. Or maybe it was the fact that
she was older than him and every night they made love, she would make sure Joey
had an ample supply of alcohol to put him at ease. God he missed her.
It had been over an hour now. He was sitting across the table from Dr. Mack, a
psychologist who specialized on substance abuse. And for the past hour and an
half, all Dr. Mack had been doing was preaching. 
"Alcohol is very bad for you. It affects you as well as those around you."
The fuck it does.
"The first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem. Joe, do you
feel you have a problem?"
Yes. A very serious fuckin' problem.
"Dr. Mack."
"Yes, Joey."
"I think our time is up." Joey pointed to clock on desk.  "It's been two hours
now."
"Yes, it is." Dr. Mack agreed.  "I think we made progress today."
All Joey did was smile.
"Great. Mary will schedule you for another appointment."
"I don't think so." Joey finally spoke. "I don't think it will be necessary to
schedule another appointment."
And with that being said, Joey got up and walked away, making sure he blew
kisses to Mary as he exited the office building.
He knew Lance would be so disappointed at him. But he couldn't force himself to
see Dr. Mack anymore or any doctor for that matter. He knew he had a problem.
Hell, it was Joey who came to his friends a little over a year ago, admitting
that he had a serious problem. However, due to the relentless constant touring,
Joey couldn't find the time to seek treatment. He had been able to control his
drinking, only occasionally getting into trouble, but with this last tour, it
was just becoming too much for Joey to handle and so he sought relief in his
liquor friend.
And what a wonderful friend Al was to him. Al accepted him for who he was.  He
tasted so good in his mouth, swirling around gently.  He was always there when
he needed him. He was always willing to give when he needed him. Al was always
able to take all the worries away from him, take him away to a distant fairy
tale land where he and Lance could make love on a public beach and everything
would be okay. Al was his friend.  The more he went to Al, the more Al could
give to him. And soon, he found himself seeking comfort in Al more and more and
in Lance less and less until nearly all of his time was devoted to Al.
"Dr. Mack called."
Lance's voice interrupted his reverie.
"He said that you refused to schedule another appointment with him." Lance
relayed their discussion over the phone.  "Joey, I'm disappointed in you.  Don't
you get it? You have a problem. You need help."
"Of course, I do!" Joey snapped. "I know I have a fuckin' problem. I don't need
you to tell me everything single fuckin' minute I'm awake that I'm a fuckin'
alcoholic. And what the hell are you doing here in my room on my bed anyways?
Didn't you say that you wouldn't be crawling into my bed anymore?"
The slue of words from Joey's mouth was like a slap to the face.  Lance's eyes
misted over with impending tears that he quickly blinked away.  He composed
himself quickly and pushed himself off of Joey's bed. His head perked up, he
walked by Joey, trying so hard to keep his tears from falling down on his
flawless face.  Too late.  They came anyways. Damn tears.
"Lance." 
"I just miss my boyfriend so much. Is that a crime?!"
"I'm sorry, baby." Joey grabbed his arm and apologized. 
"I miss having your body wrapped around mine at night. I miss the warmth of your
body.  I miss your sloppy kisses on my neck. I miss your vibrant smile. I miss
your teddy bear hug. I miss you, Joe."
"Lance, I miss you, too." Joey said to Lance, wrapping his arms around the boy. 
"God, I love you so much."
"I love you, too." Lance tiptoed to place a gentle kiss on Joey's lips.
The soft, delicate kiss soon progressed to a passionate kiss intermingled with
animalistic grunts. Tongues darted for dominance as hands fondled the other's
body.  Soon thereafter, Lance found himself exactly where he did not wish to be.
In Joey's bed.  The lust was too great and Lance could not pry himself away from
Joey's suffocating embrace. Kisses continued. Clothes removed. Skin upon skin. 
Joey inside Lance.  They cried each other's names as they came, spurting juices
of their love making session.
It was still amazing. And Joey when sober was the best lover Lance ever had. He
was the only lover Lance ever had.  Everything about love Lance learned from
Joey. With Joey alone, he could be himself. He could be the little boy he left
behind in Mississippi. He did not need to be in charge. He did not need to make
sure things were done right. Joey took care of everything. Joey allowed him to
be Lance.  Joey loved Lance.
They fell into each other's arms as the sunlight peered past the sheer curtains,
basking them in a glow of warmth.  It was so nice just lying there, carefree of
all the troubles in the world. For the time being, Joey was in heaven. Nothing
could compare to Lance. Nothing. Not even Al.
 
No one said it would be easy to quit drinking. But Lance made it so much easier.
At night, Lance would accompany Joey to the local AA meetings they had in
downtown. Disguised in the typical baseball caps and sunglasses, they would
march down the deserted halls and enter the conference room. Once inside, they
would strip of all their disguise and sit at the back. A few people who
recognized them would acknowledged them. Some with questioning look as if they
had every right to judge him. And Lance would just assure him, rubbing his knee.
Lance would intervene. He would tell them that his uncle was an alcoholic and
that he had noticed that sometimes he would have one far too many drinks. He
wanted to help himself before his drinking becomes a problem. Satisfied with his
explanation, they would leave them alone, allowing Joey to slump down in his
chair, hiding himself from every watchful eyes.
Joey never wanted to come to the AA meetings.  He didn't believe he belonged to
this group. He didn't believe he was like them. He could not.  They were all
much older with awful teeth, beer bellies and bad personal hygiene.  He was not
like them. He did not drink every night of his life. On the occasions that he
did drink, he just couldn't stop himself from drinking until he was on the
floor, nearly passed out.  But Lance would make him go. And if Lance wanted him
to do so, he would make every effort to please Lance because Lance deserved to
be happy. Lance deserved more than a drunk as a boyfriend. Lance deserved the
moon hanging in the sky if Joey could reach that far. He was just afraid that
his fingers would almost touch it, but never actually hold on long enough to
capture the moon.
"I don't know if I can do this, Lance." He said, one night, while staring at the
open window. The moon hanging in the sky was at her fullest he could almost see
her smile. 
"I know." Lance agreed. "You might not be able to make it, but at least you
tried. And for that I've never been more proud of you or more in love with you. 
To me, you already won."
"Thank you."
And then they kissed.
It became a routine for them. After every night of an AA meeting Joey attended,
they would celebrate another night of sobriety.  Lance would reward him with
delicate kisses only Lance could give. They would make love to each other. And
no alcohol was ever involved. Just the scent of Lance's natural aroma was enough
to intoxicate Joey for hours.
 
Sometimes even Lance's scent was not enough. Like the time when they stayed home
a week ago and rented movies just the two of them. As Lance got up to use the
bathroom, Joey had somehow snuck a tiny urn of whiskey, dumping its content in
his soda. Lance had no clue. Joey was happy and Lance was happy just seeing his
boyfriend smile that he neglected to notice the signs. It wasn't until later at
night when they kissed that Lance could taste the alcohol on Joey's lips.  That
night he refused Joey for the first time since they moved away. And that night,
Joey for the first time forced himself upon Lance.
The phone rang early the next morning and Lance crawled his way toward the
phone, afraid to wake up Joey.  He hid in the closet to talk on the phone. It
was JC. JC finally called and he could not have chosen a worse moment. Lance had
tried to be strong. He tried so hard to hide all the pent up emotions. But he
couldn't. It was too much and not too long into the conversation, Lance began to
falter. And JC arrived at their apartment half an hour later.  
"Lance. Lance." He heard JC in the apartment.
His head poked out from the closet to find Joey still passed out on the bed. He
tugged on the hanging clothes and threw them on. He carefully crept across the
floor. He pulled himself off the floor and in the process caught a glimpse of
himself in the mirror. A contusion where Joey had laid his hand had darkened
tremendously on the side of his face down to his neck. He could never face JC
like this. Thinking quickly, he scurried to the closet to retrieve a turtleneck
sweater.  He pulled it over his head, satisfied that the sweater was able to
cover his neck and if he could just keep his hands on the side of his face, he
would be able to deceive JC for sure so he slid out of the bedroom to greet JC.
"Hi, JC." He said when he saw JC.
"Hey, Lance." JC offered a small smile.
"You got here so soon."
"Yeah, I was in the neighborhood." JC explained to him. "Is everything okay?"   
"Of course, it is. Why shouldn't it?" Lance stumbled on his words.
"Because," JC began, "when I called earlier you sounded like you were on the
verge of a mental breakdown. What's wrong, Lance?"
Lance shook his head. He wished JC wasn't visiting them. He wished JC would just
leave them alone. They would make it. They had to, but they would.  This was
just one of the obstacles. They would surpass all of them one day. One day.
"And why are you wearing a sweater in the middle of July?" JC questioned. Not
waiting for Lance to answer, JC leapt toward Lance. He pulled onto the sweater,
revealing not only the bruises on his neck and face, but the ones left on his
abdomen and back, the same bruises that marred Justin's body the night that
Joey...
"Oh, my God! What happened? What happened, Lance?!" JC demanded to know, shaking
Lance as if by doing so, all the answers would somehow spill out of him.  "Did
Joey force himself on you?"
"No! No!" Lance screamed, but the tears that fell told otherwise. 
"He did, didn't he?" JC was even more furious. The anger in his eyes scared
Lance and he latched onto him, fearing that if he let go, JC would sure kill his
boyfriend. "Let me go, Lance. He fuckin' ruined Justin's life already. I'm not
going to let him ruin yours."
"Don't go, please." Lance pleaded with his best friend.  "Please just leave us
alone."
"Leave you alone with that bastard that raped you!" JC yelled. He couldn't
believe the words of love coming out of Lance. He couldn't believe someone as
horrible as Joey could have someone as sweet and gentle as Lance and he had no
one. Where was the justice in all of this?!
"Is that true?"
Lance quickly released his grip on JC to move toward his boyfriend.  Joey
stumbled into the scene in just boxers, stained boxers. His hair was all over
the face. His eyes droopy, but clearly he heard the conversation in the living
room. 
"Is that true what JC said?" Joey asked, again.
Still no answer. Joey shook his head as he realized what he had done the night
before, to his loving and caring boyfriend of all people. Lance didn't want it
last night, but he forced himself on him nonetheless.  Ashamed more than
anything else, Joey stumbled towards the door of their apartment. He wanted to
leave. He wanted to leave Lance once and for all so he could move on and find
someone, someone worthy of his love. He didn't deserve Lance. He didn't deserve
anyone.
"Please don't leave!" Lance shrieked, throwing himself toward Joey. Just as
before, he quickly latched onto his boyfriend, "Please, don't leave me like
this. Not now. Not after what we've been through."
"I'm sorry. I don't want to either, but I can't allow you to stay with me. I
don't deserve you, Lance. I don't."
"No. You can't leave." Lance shook his head, his tear-filled eyes pleading for
Joey to stay. "Don't." Lance swiveled his head around, seeking help in his
friend. 
JC just shook his head. He hated Joey. He hated everything about Joey.
Everything except Lance. And it broke his heart to see Lance in so much pain. He
stepped forward, and slammed the door shut.
"Not so fast." JC said. "You're not walking away this time."
Joey looked up, his face scrunched in confusion. JC's voice did not lace with
the anger he heard a few minutes ago. His voice was stern. His voice held
authority, but no anger.
"Look." JC began, "I should hate you for everything that you've done, but I've
known you for ten years and during the ten years that we've known each other,
you've been nothing but a good friend to me. I know someone who can help you."
"Help?" The uncertainty in Joey's voice forced JC to continue.
"During the lawsuit, I became addicted to sleeping pills. I couldn't sleep at
all. The only way to fall asleep was to take these pills. And soon, I found
myself taking these pills all the time. It wasn't until I had accidentally taken
more than my system could handle and Justin had found me on the floor, barely
breathing that I went out and got some help."
"We always thought that you and Justin were going to Florida to write music in
case we lost the lawsuit and had to do things ourselves."  Lance said.
"Yeah, that was the reason why we went to Florida. My accidental overdose was
the reason why we stayed for so long." JC explained.  "Anyways, there's this
doctor back in Orlando who specialized in drug addiction. He can help you.
You'll need to attend support groups in your case, but I think he'll be the one
to help you only if you want to, Joe. It's only if you want to, Joe. If you
don't know, no one else can help you."
"I do." Joey said, sounding more anxious. "I really want to fight this. I can't
be the boyfriend Lance deserves if I keep drinking like this."
"No, you can't." JC said.
"I know." Joey knew at last. He knew what he needed to do.


(c) 2001 Aphrodite for Friends & Lovers

Golden Phoenix
Disclaimer: Not true because we all know that Joey doesn't drink at all, right?
Rating: NC-17 overall. And yes, there will be violence, including rape.
Summary: ~Joey has always been willing to accept his fate as an alcoholic
until...~
Author's Notes: Important! Important! My baby's going to be on MTV. Justin
Timberlake's debut solo single, "Like I Love", will be featured on MTV's 'Making
of the Video' on 09/09/02 at 5:30pm. Watch and understand the obsession
surrounding this golden boy.   
Other Affiliates:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Little_Boy_Blue




Golden Phoenix V



~Golden Phoenix V~

Dr. Theodore Blackwell was the miracle they had prayed for. Having been an
alcoholic for most of his adult life, he understood what Joey was going through.
He did not blame him or punish him, making him feel worthless. He had been
there, too. Together, they drew out an elaborate plan to treat Joey with the
goal for success in October, the third year anniversary of his relationship with
Lance. And he couldn't think of a better gift to give to his boyfriend. Lance
would be so proud.
With a combination of drug therapy, group therapy, and personal sessions with
Dr. Blackwell, Joey was well on his way to recovery. The drug, Antabuse, was
prescribed to Joey to help him stop drinking. The drug served as an aversion
therapy according to Lance. Joey did not understand why he had to take drugs to
correct his addiction to another drug, alcohol. But Lance assured him that
Antabuse was only part of the therapy. Joey found out soon enough how integral
the drug was to his treatment protocol. While fighting a cold, Joey took some
Nyquil to fall sleep, and became extremely sick. Concerned over his boyfriend's
sudden sickness, Lance immediately called Dr. Blackwell who informed him that
while on Antabuse any alcohol consumption would make Joey sick, including any
cough elixir. Joey learned his lesson well that night and avoided everything
with alcohol and the things he was unsure of the contents, he avoided them as
well. He still attended the nightly AA meetings. And he was becoming more bold,
even going up to the stand to tell his stories of alcohol abuse. During the day,
he would attend the group therapy, it was more structured than the 12-step AA
meetings, but Joey decided that he needed to keep himself busy. While he was in
therapy, Lance could return to working at Freelance once, again.
October 3rd, 30 days after Joey had seen Dr. Blackwell for the first time, the
day of their third anniversary, Lance presented Joey with a diamond cross
pendant. With his successful recovery, Lance was convinced that God had been
watching Joey all along. Joey didn't get Lance anything. He gave him 80 alcohol
free days for Lance to cherish, a testament of his love for Lance. They made
love that late afternoon. They had planned to make love all night long to
celebrate Joey's three months of sobriety, but they couldn't resist each other,
not today, not the day that commemorated their three years with each other. They
stayed entangled in each other's arms until sunset. The sunrays crashing upon
their bare bodies as they lay- Lance resting on top of Joey's chest. Joey's arms
snaked around Lance's upper body to pull him yet closer. They wanted to stay
like this forever, but Lance had plans for the night. So reluctantly, Joey got
out of bed and followed Lance to the bathroom, where he surprised his boyfriend
in the shower. Lance, completely soaked wet, splashed water onto Joey, wetting
the hairs on Joey's chest. Lance inched forward, a devilish grin appeared on his
face. He retrieved the soap scrub from behind his back and began to wash Joey's
chest, massaging deeply and sensuously Joey thought he could just die in their
in the steamed shower. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of Lance's lips on
his body, circling his nipples. Lance was just amazing in everything that he
did. He was perfect. And before long, Joey was hard, so hard he felt his body
ached. He pounced toward Lance, successfully pinning him against the wall. He
kissed him vigorously, sucking the delicate skin of his boyfriend's neck while
stroking his phallus. When Lance became hard, Joey connected with his body and
soon their cries drowned the sound of the shower. They would have continued with
another session, but Lance's internal alarm clock went off and Lance
disentangled himself from Joey and rushed out of the bathroom. Thirty minutes to
get ready, he told his boyfriend, and Joey had to smile, watching Lance's ass
skipping away.
"Where are we going?" Joey kept asking like a little child.
"You'll see." Lance kept telling him, focusing on the road ahead.
After much begging and kissing, Joey surrendered. He should know by now that
Lance was hard to break. Lance was a very stubborn person. What he wished not to
divulge, he would never. No matter how sweet and tender the kisses Joey lay on
Lance's neck.
The anticipation was killing Joey. He knew Lance would take him some place
special. He knew they were going to celebrate their third anniversary in a fancy
restaurant, sharing a candle light dinner. He knew how romantic Lance could get,
especially on special occasions. So when Lance pulled up to the best pizza joint
in town, Joey was a bit baffled by Lance's choice of restaurant to celebrate
their very special day.
"Is this because I didn't get you anything?" Joey asked as Lance led him to the
steps of the restaurant. "Because I can run down to the mall we just passed and
get you something real quick."
Lance just shook his head, never letting go of the smile on his face.
"But we just had pizza last night!" Joey whined.
"You look too cute when you whine like that." Lance said, pecking him on the
nose, "Now let's have some pizza!"
Joey, still confused, entered the restaurant behind Lance. Once inside, Lance
stepped aside and allowed Joey to absorb the scene before him. The restaurant
was decorated from floor to ceiling in Superman theme. The aroma of New York
Style pizzas permeated the entire restaurant. The sound of video games being
played in the background was music to his ears. Nothing made Joey smile more
than the guests at the party.
"Surprise!" Lance yelled.
"Wow." Joey was speechless. "How were you able to do this? Without me finding
out?"
"I have my ways. I have my ways." Was all Lance said.
The party was Lance's idea. He wanted Joey to see his friends, again. It had
been so long. During his treatment, he had avoided all contacts with his
friends. He said that he was still embarrassed to see them. He didn't want to
see them in case he had failed the treatment. That would just be too much for
him.
Three months later, Lance could not resist but to throw his boyfriend a party,
to allow him to see his friends, to allow him to celebrate his achievements.
This was their day and as much as Lance would love to spend every minute, every
second of the day in Joey's arms, he couldn't deny him his friends. He wanted
all of their friends there to help celebrate this beautiful third day of
October.
Everyone that Joey cared about was here. JC, Chris, Steve, the bodyguards.
Everyone. Joey scanned the entire restaurant and a frown appeared on his face
when his eyes fail to fall on a certain curly haired blonde. JC stepped forward
and smiled.
"Justin's on his way. His flight was delayed. He's in New York right now. He
just called minutes before you came that he would be a little late but to make
you save him a slice of pizza." JC explained. The frown soon transformed to a
smile and JC had to laugh at the way Joey's eyes had gotten so small.
"Congratulations, man."
"Thanks."
"Honestly, I didn't think you would be able to do it."
"He didn't have faith in you." Chris stepped in between the two friends. "But I
believed in you all along."
"What?" JC laughed hysterically. "You are such a liar, Chris!"
And Joey laughed, too, for the first time in a very long time.
The men of *Nsync were suddenly boys now. They scrambled for the pizza, stuffing
the pizza down their throats. Chris almost threw up, but managed to swallow
before it all came back up. He gulped down ice cold beer and handed Joey the
remaining bottle of beer.
"Go ahead." Chris said. "You're now cured."
"Chris is right." JC added. "There's noting wrong with drinking once in a while.
That's normal."
Joey looked to Lance for approval and when Lance nodded, Joey took the bottle
and took a sip of the ice cold beer and put down the bottle just as quickly. He
didn't have to drink to feel good. All he needed to feel good was in the room
right now. His best friends in the world. And the man he loved with all his
being, Lance Bass.
The party was almost perfect. Joey spent his entire time snuggled close to
Lance. Their hands clasped together as their feet battled underneath the table.
Once in awhile when the others weren't looking, they'd steal a kiss. And when
they got caught, everyone applauded them. Only Chris teased them to no end until
Joey stuffed a pizza into his mouth to shut him up. But when he swallowed the
pizza, Chris's motor mouth continued to run rapid once, again.
They had been enjoying each other's company so much that no one realized that
closing time for the restaurant was nearing and still Justin had not arrived.
When Joey glanced at the empty chair for Justin, a sense of sadness washed over
him. They weren't *Nsync, not without Justin.
Lance immediately detected the sudden sadness as if he felt every emotion Joey
felt. He excused himself from the table to go to the restroom. Once inside, he
started speed dialing Justin's cell phone. After receiving his voice mail, Lance
cancelled and tried, again, and, again, until he surrendered to defeat.
"Justin, I know you're there." Lance said into the cell phone. "Please come.
Joey would love to see you."
"I can't."
"Justin?!" Justin's voice on the line surprised Lance. God. It seemed like
forever since they last spoke. "Why? Why can't you come?"
"You know why." Justin's voice barely audible Lance almost didn't hear. "Tell
Joey that I'm proud of him and that I still love him."
Lance was stunned beyond words. He didn't know what to say. What could he say to
convince Justin to come? Nothing. He left the conversation as it was. No words
spoken further. And soon he heard the dial tone. Justin was gone.
Lance wanted to cry so much then and now. As great as the night had been, it
couldn't be perfect. It could never be perfect because Justin was not coming.
Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Lance gathered all the strength he had
to face his friends. He approached them, managing a weak smile. They all bought
the smile. Joey, on the other hand, saw right through him.
"Where's Justin?" Joey asked, knowing that Lance had slipped away to call
Justin.
"I'm sorry." Lance mumbled under his breath.
"What?" Joey whispered back, keeping his voice low from everyone.
"He's not coming."
"Oh. It's okay." Joey said, but his body language proved otherwise as he slumped
against the seat.
"What's wrong?" Chris asked right away.
"Nothing." Joey answered. "Justin's not coming."
"Not coming? Well, that little punk ass." Chris began, but was interrupted by JC
who was quick to defend his best friend.
"Maybe he didn't feel good. Last night, he told me he was catching something."
JC offered the explanation.
Joey sighed deeply. He could not blame Justin at all. He was the one that hurt
Justin. He was the one that drove him away. He could not blame for him not ever
wanting to see him, again.
Steve quickly shot up from his seat.
"Forget about Justin. We're here to celebrate a very special day." Steve
continued, "Today is the three year anniversary of my brother's relationship
with the most gorgeous blonde in the world. And today marks the beginning of a
life of sobriety."
"As if you can talk." Chris said, sarcastically.
"Hey, I can control myself." Steve shot back at Chris before turning his
attention to his brother, again. "Joey, congratulations!" He said, then rolling
a bottle of beer across the table. "To celebrate!"
Joey looked at the bottle for the longest time. He had already drank some
alcohol earlier, but right now more than ever, he wanted to have another drink,
to just forget about the fact that Justin was not coming and it was all his
fault that they could not be *Nsync tonight. Finally coming to a decision, he
reached for the bottle when Lance snatched it under him and gulped down half the
bottle. He slammed the bottle on the table and swiftly turned toward Joey,
planting a wet kiss on Joey's dry lips.
"I love you, Joey Fatone. Don't you ever forget about that." Lance told him.
"I love you, too."
For the remaining of the night, the two lovers shared pizzas, shared kisses, and
even shared drinks. Lance would drink his portion and then offered Joey only
enough to socialize with everyone. They had not even finished their fifth drink
before it was time to leave. It was closing time.
Joey and Lance walked out together, hand in hand, snuggling close against the
night's harsh wind. JC half carried Chris to his car, depositing Chris in the
passenger's seat, as he got into the driver's seat.
"Wanna a lift home?" JC offered to the lovers.
Joey looked into Lance's eyes and shook his head.
"Nah, we're going to walk home alone tonight."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah." Joey assured him. "Good night."
"Good night." JC returned.
"And thank you for coming tonight."
"No problem. Not a problem at all." JC said, before stepping onto the gas and
speeding off into the distant night.
When all was silent, again, Joey and Lance proceeded to trek their way back home
when suddenly Lance dropped to the ground. Alarmed, Joey dropped to his knees,
taking Lance's hands in his.
"What's wrong, baby?" Joey asked.
"Joey, I drank tonight."
"We all did. And out of us all, you had the least to drink."
"I know, but I'm not supposed to be drinking at all." Lance cried. He pulled his
knees to his chest, rocking back and forth. "I'm the one hassling everyone about
drinking and I drank tonight."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Lance. You had a lot on your mind tonight." Joey
told him, taking his boyfriend in his arms. And when Lance's cries intensified,
Joey began to cry, too.
"Do you want to know why I'm so against drinking?"
"Why?" Joey asked, afraid to know what past lives Lance led before him.
"My best friend, who I knew since I was seven, died in an accident." Lance
continued, "he was drunk."
"I'm sorry you lost your best friend."
"Joey, he was more than my best friend. He was my first boyfriend."
"Oh."
"But we never did anything." Lance quickly added.
"Now I understand why you hate it so much that I drink. If you hate drinking so
much, why did you stay with me?"
"Because," Lance sighed deeply, "because I love you and nothing else matters."
"I love you, too."
A kiss later and they were ready to head back home. They wanted to walk alone
home, but it was getting late now. Lance had an early meeting in the morning. It
would take them at the very least one hour to get back to their apartment versus
fifteen minutes in a car, including the time it would take them to walk back to
the parking lot. At last, they decided to return to the parking lot. They had
other nights they could walk alone. They had others to be just together.
It was decided that since Lance had the least to drink, he would drive home.
Joey didn't mind. He didn't mind staring at Lance as he drove, as the lights
fell upon his beautiful face. The red lights stopped them and they waited for
what seemed like an eternity. Lance glowed under the lights and Joey wanted
nothing more than to make love to him on the spot. He wanted Lance so bad. He
snaked his hand out, resting his hand on Lance's thigh. A smile crept on Lance's
face, encouraging Joey even more. His fingers traced along Lance's thigh until
they reached between his legs to give him a quick squeeze. Lance's smile
enveloped his entire face and when they passed the intersection, Lance leaned
over to steal a kiss from Joey's lips, accidentally turning on the radio in the
process. Their lips locked upon another and as Joey lost himself in the deep
kiss, he swore he saw something. He swore he saw something translucent,
something white, something not of this earth, something heavenly uttering that
"it's time, it's time", followed by blinding lights as
the God of Wine comes crashing through
The headlights of a car that took you farther
Than you thought you'd ever want to go
We can't get back again
We can't get back again
James Lance Bass
(born 1979-died 2000)
Joseph Anthony Fatone, Jr.
(born 1977-died 2000)


(c) 2001 Aphrodite for Friends & Lovers

Golden Phoenix
Disclaimer: Not true because we all know that Joey doesn't drink at all, right?
Rating: NC-17 overall. And yes, there will be violence, including rape.
Summary: ~Joey has always been willing to accept his fate as an alcoholic
until...~
Author's Notes: I was going to send this another day, but I figured I might aqs
well put this story to rest now. I still can't believe this story got posted
here.  Furthermore, I can't believe people actually read it.  Thanks to everyone
who read the story and even bigger thanks to those who emailed me. Thanks!
Other Affiliates:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NSAngst
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Ndecent_Pleasures
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Little_Boy_Blue


Golden Phoenix


~Epilogue~

That fateful night of October 3rd would be forever etched in Justin's mind. He
would never forget that night, the night he received that phone call that would
alter the course of his life as well as the lives around him forever.
"Justin, I think you need to come right now."
It was Chris.
"Where at?"
"St Francis Memorial hospital, the emergency room."
Justin could tell that Chris wanted to say more, but he didn't need to know
more. He hung quickly without saying good-bye. He was already on his way.
Justin drove to the hospital effortlessly. It was nearly 3 am and at such late
hours, there wasn't a car in sight. He could barely see past the tears in his
eyes. Chris's voice when he called told him that something had happened,
something bad had happened. What? He did not know.
When he arrived at the hospital, he met with his friends briefly before being
ushered through a hall, around the corner, and through another hall, until he
was finally stopped in front of a room.
"Mr. Bass is waiting for you." The nurse told him.
"Thank you." He whispered, inaudibly.
His focus was on his best friend inside. Justin pushed the door slightly until
he could slip inside. Once inside, he slowly shut the door behind. He turned
around and he gasped out loud, collapsing onto the floor. Tears streamed down
his face as he tried to shake away the image of Lance's bandaged face
unsuccessfully.
"C'mere." Lance mumbled, so soft Justin barely heard him until Lance struggled
to pat the side of the bed for Justin to join him.
It took a moment for Justin to register what Lance was talking about. Once he
did, he rushed to Lance's bedside, taking the seat vacant for him to fill by his
side. Lance took Justin's hand in his and squeezed it gently, assuring him that
things would be fine.
"Do you remember that one story we read together because I had fallen behind and
you helped me by reading half of the book to me so I could catch up?" Lance
spoke warmly, reminiscing over past memories. "That one story about those
Chinese girls."
"You mean the Joy Luck Club."
"Yeah, that's the one."
"Yeah, I remember." Justin said.
"Well, there's that story about the magpies. Don't remember the girl's name."
Lance paused as if to ponder over the names of the characters in the story.
"Go on." Justin urged him.
"Because her mother was weak, she killed herself to give her daughter the
strength." Lance's lips trembled as he spoke to Justin, who only shed more tears
as he listened to Lance's labored breathing. "I'm the mother in that story and
Joey's my daughter."
"Don't talk like that, Lance. You'll be alright. You'll be alright. We'll get
the best doctor around to heal you." Justin cried, refusing to face the truth
before him.
Lance shook his head, sadly. He took both Justin's hands in his and closed his
hands over Justin's.
"No. I know that it's bad. I'm not going to make it, Justin. Hopefully when I'm
gone, Joey will gain that strength."
"Lance." Justin cried, shook even more rigorously.
"Shh..." Lance brought his hands to Justin's face, cupping Justin's face in his
palms. "Everything's going to be alright. And you'll help Joey for me, won't
you, please? Please say you will. Help him find that strength to lead him
forward. Please, Justin. This is all I ask of you. Please."
Justin heard the pleading in Lance's voice even though with each breath, Justin
sensed Lance's life slipping by. He heard the crying from Lance, but he could
not force himself to open his eyes to see Lance in the condition that he was in.
With each beat of the heart, the intensity grew dimmer and dimmer. Justin knew
time was running out and he quickly nodded his head, promising his best friend
that he would look after his boyfriend and see to it that Joey had that strength
to carry through. When he finally opened his eyes, again, he discovered that
time had ran out. The EKG now flat. Lance was gone.
No one knew what went on behind that hospital door, inside that hospital room.
Justin emerged from the room an hour late. His head hung low as he walked back
to the lobby. As Chris paced back and forth, waiting for the doctors to tell
them Joey's status, and JC rocked himself in the chair, humming to the first
song they ever sang together, "The Star Spangled Banner", Justin sat by himself.
His eyes fixated on the red scrawl on the opposite wall. His mind focused on
what he would tell Joey once he was conscious. He had made a promise to Lance
and he intended to keep that promise.
In no time, the doctor joined them in the lobby, announcing that it was a
miracle, that they were able to save Joey, but he would have to remain at the
hospital for the entire week. Everyone cheered for Joey's safety. And as they
celebrated a life saved, Justin managed to slip away, and into Joey's room. He
sat by Joey's bedside, taking his hand in his, and holding it tightly, not ever
wanting to let go.
When Joey finally became conscious and the pain from the surgery subsided to a
bearable degree, Justin decided it was time to tell Joey of his lost.
"Joey, I have something to tell you." Justin began.
And as if Joey could read Justin's mind, his eyes started to mist over and Joey
started to cry, something that Justin had never seen before. He shook his head
in denial.
"This can't be true." Joey kept repeating. "He only had three drinks. He only
drank three glasses. We were driving home. He was behind the wheel because I had
far too many drinks. He only had three. As we were driving home, I saw lights.
Bright, blinding lights. I saw her. I saw her."
"Who, Joe? Who did you see? Who did you see that night?"
"The God of Wine!" Joey roared. The intensity of his voice startled Justin. and
he wanted to get out of the room, but Joey grabbed his arm and held him in
place. Fear radiated from Justin's eyes as he struggled to get away. Then,
suddenly Joey wrapped his arms around him, burying his face against Justin's
chest, weeping. "I saw her, Justin. I saw her. She came to punish me. Instead,
she got Lance. He tried to swerve away, but he couldn't. The alcohol-it affected
him. He couldn't swerve away. If it weren't for me, Lance would be alive today.
I saw her. I saw her." Joey kept repeating.
Justin sat still as Joey continued to mourn for his love lost. Hesitantly, he
brought his arms to encircle around Joey and soon they locked themselves,
together, and wept. There was no more hate for Joey in his heart.

After being discharged from the hospital, Joey checked himself into a treatment
facility while maintaining personal therapy with Dr. Blackwell. He took his
Antabuse everyday. He attended the AA meetings nightly. When asked to join
friends out at town, Joey would politely decline. He no longer wished to mix
with alcohol, no longer wish to be near it. The mere scent of alcohol now made
him nausea. Justin, JC, and Chris would stop by, offering Joey emotional support
as he mourned over Lance while attempting to put his life back together. And
Justin would watch from afar. In his mind, Joey no longer needed them by his
side. It was as if the strength of Lance's character had passed onto Joey for
Joey was a different man. He had determination to succeed like Lance had
determination to succeed in everything that he did. He was more perceptive just
as Lance was. Everything Lance was, Joey was now. And soon on Christmas Eve,
Joey completed a three month program. His certificate of completion, Joey
burned, recovering the ashes to place in Lance's urn. Lance would most certainly
be proud of him.
There was no doubt that Joey Fatone lied beside his lover's body on the side of
the road, that he died that fateful night. And like the legendary Golden
Phoenix, he, too reborn from his ashes that burned with his lover's, becoming a
brand new soul, the man Joey Fatone of today.
~Golden Phoenix was inspired by Third Eye Blind's "God of Wine" from their debut
album.
GOD OF WINE
Every thought that I repent
There's another chip you haven't spent
And you're cashing them all in
Where do we begin to get clean again
Can we get clean again

I walk home alone with you
And the mood you're born into
Sometimes you let me in
And I take it on the chin
I can't get clean again
I want to know can we get clean again

The God of Wine comes crashing through
The headlights of a car that took you farther
Than you thought you'd ever want to go
We can't get back again
We can't get back again


She takes a drink and then she waits
The alcohol it permeates
And soon the cells give way, and cancels out the day


I can't keep it all together
I know I know I know...
I can't keep it all together
And the siren's song that is your madness
Holds a truth I can't erase
All alone on your face


Every glamorous sunrise
Throws the planets out of line
A star sign out of whack, a fraudulent zodiac
And the God of Wine is crouched down in my room
You let me down, I said it, now I'm going down
And you're not even around
And I said no no no...


I can't keep it all together
I know I know I know...
I can't keep it all together
And there's a memory of a window
Looking through I see you
Searching for something I could never give you
And there's someone who understands
You more than I do
A sadness I can't erase
All alone on your face

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