The Devil's Due
By Billy Burrew
Chapter 2: Ruminations & Bargaining
"Hey! Are you with us today, Lance?" Justin asked
as he waved his hand in front of the other blond, his brow
wrinkled at the glassy expression in his bandmate's eyes.
Lance blinked and sighed and nodded. "Yep...just thinking,
that's all."
Justin shook his head. It had been nearly a year since
Lou Pearlman settled his lawsuit with the guys of NSYNC.
They had planned, recorded and released their first album
off JIVE records, "No Strings Attached" and had
gone down in the history books as the first band that sold
over 2 million copies of their album in just one week. In
that year, Justin and Lance's relationship had grown, peaked
and plummeted as rumors of Lance's homosexuality as well
as Justin's undying love for Britney Spears had taken an
almost disastrous toll on the relationship. Because of the
media issues, Justin and Lance had been forced to stay as
far away from each other as much as possible in the public
arena, so as not to clue in any members of the press to
their involvement with one another.
Justin sighed as he realized that their relationship, which
looked so promising, was all but gone, and there was little
that anyone could do to fix it. Justin had been preparing
himself for the worst for a while now, just in case Lance
decided to make it official and break off his relationship
with him. Nothing like that had happened yet, though, but
Justin was sure he could see it happening soon. Justin looked
down at his blond bandmate again and sighed. Justin realized
that it had been so long since Christmas when any of them
had been visited by their guardian angel, Patrick. If anyone
needed that divine intervention, Justin felt that it was
him. He was sure that if he could talk with Patrick that
somehow Patrick could set everything right.
Lance let his eyes fall from his on-again-off-again boyfriend
Justin, who, he noted with more than a twinge of sadness,
was now in the off-again stage. Lance sighed and wished,
for about the 200th time that day that Patrick would appear...so
that he could just talk with someone. He needed to talk
with someone...not part of the group.
A noise from the back of the stadium snapped him out of
his revelry.
"Hey Guys....Here's someone I want you to meet."
Steve Fatone said as he approached the stage, with a exceptionally
handsome young man in an armani suit walking just behind
him.
All five heads turned towards the two approaching figures
"Guys" Steve said, "I'd like you to meet
your new tour director, Mr. Samael Ahriman. Mr. Ahriman
just got off the plane from LA where JIVE hired him to make
sure that you guys are all taken care of."
The young man smiled broadly, "Pleased to meet you
all. Please...just call me Sam."
The guys stopped and greeted the new member of their team,
then walked back to their places to continue practicing
their routine.
"Lance" Sam said, smiling broadly, "After
you guys finish, could you hang around for a few minutes.
I need to chat with you."
"Justin", Same continued, "I'll talk with
you during your next break. I'll be in the back of the auditorium
wrestling with this new laptop that JIVE got for me."
Justin smiled. "No problem. I'll go grab you when
we break."
Lance looked at the back of their new tour manager as he
headed back to the back of the auditorium, and sighed, wondering
why he had to stay and talk with him. Lance's revelry didn't
last long as his attention was turned to practicing their
dance steps for the upcoming concerts.
Hours later, Lance sat down at the bench of the piano that
sat on the side of the stage. Lance was exhausted from the
practice, and his exhaustion seemed to add to his sense
of sadness over Justin and....Patrick.
"Patrick" Lance said quietly. "I thought
I had let him go. I guess I still haven't gotten over him."
Lance turned and started playing the piano, fingering the
keys gingerly at first, until his mind set on a song, and
his fingers took over and began to play. Seconds later,
when the cue to sing came, Lance raised his voice.
In the gloaming, oh my darling
When the lights are soft and low
And the quiet shadows falling
Softly come and softly go
When the trees are sobbing faintly
With a gentle unknown woe
Will you think of me and love me
As you did once long ago?
In the gloaming, oh my darling
Think not bitterly of me
Though I passed away in silence
Left you lonely, set you free
For my heart was tossed with
longing
What had been could never be
It was best to leave you thus dear
Best for you and best for me
In the gloaming, oh my darling
When the lights are soft and low
Will you think of me and love me
As you did once long ago.
Tears streamed out of Lance's eyes as his deep voice put
words to the sorrow that filled his heart.
"Oh Patrick. Why'd you leave me?"
A noise from behind Lance startled him and he turned quickly
to face it.
"Patrick?" Lance asked hopefully.
"Ummm...No..Lance...it's me" Sam said as he emerged
from the shadows.
"Oh...Sam." Lance said, his disappointment registering
plainly in his voice. "I thought you were someone else."
Sam stepped close to Lance and nodded, raising his hand
to Lance's cheek and wiping away the tear that lingered
there.
"He must have been pretty amazing. This Patrick fellow."
Sam said, staring at the tear on his fingertip.
Lance nodded sadly.
"Old boyfriends are sometimes hard to get over. I'm
sorry he dumped you."
Lance looked up and sighed. "He didn't dump me. I
don't think I'd feel this bad if it was just a bad relationship."
Sam looked up. "You want him back, huh?"
Lance shrugged. "It's not a possibility....but I'd
give anything for him to come back to me."
Sam smiled. "Anything, huh?"
Lance smiled sadly and turned to walk out, "I'd sell
my very soul for him."
Sam beamed brightly, "Would you really? He must have
been something else."
Lance sniffed, "He was..is...an angel."
"What if I told you that I could get him back for
you." Sam said, his voice just above a whisper.
"I'd say that you were nuts, no one can bring him
back." Lance said, his sadness mixed with frustration.
"Come here Lance." Sam waved him back to the
piano, where two long pieces of paper sat on the top of
the bench.
Lance turned and walked back over to the piano and picked
up the papers.
"What's this?"
Sam smiled. "Let's just call this a bet...You said
I'd be nuts...but I know I can get you your Patrick back.
Sign that and the bet will be on. I'll do my level best
to get Patrick back for you. What have you got to lose?
The worst that can happen is that I can't get him back,
and I have to apologize to you. But...if I can...then..you'll
have him back. There's no way you can lose!"
Lance looked down at the writing on the papers and shrugged.
"What have I got to lose?" Lance sighed, then
picked up the pen and scratched the tip against the bottom
of the paper.
"Hey...it's out of ink."
Sam walked over and looked at the pen. "Smack it against
the palm of your hand...sometimes it just needs its ink
jarred...then it works."
Lance smacked the pen against the palm of his hand a few
times, and, on the fifth or sixth smack, he yelped as the
tip stuck in the flesh of his hand.
"Ow! Damn!" Lance said, pulling the pen tip out
of his hand and tossing it down on the piano top.
"Try it now...if it isn't jarred now..it never will
be." Sam said with a grin.
Lance looked over at Sam and smiled sheepishly as he saw
his grin. "Yeah...I guess I jarred it pretty well."
Lance grabbed the pen and pressed it against the paper
again and began to sign his name, and this time, it flowed
out in a deep burgundy red line.
"Hey! It worked! Nice color pen, Sam. You know I heard
that you shouldn't sign stuff in red ink...it doesn't hold
up under scrutiny as well as black or blue ink."
Sam smiled, "Oh really....I don't know. The ink in
my pen has been pretty much irrefutable since I started
using it."
Sam grabbed one copy the paper from Lance and smiled. "Well...I
better get cracking, then."
Lance shook his head as he watched Sam step back onto the
middle of the stage and raise his hands to the ceiling.
"I promised you Patrick...and Lance...I have to thank
you for asking for him. You have no idea how much I appreciate
what you just did."
Lance's eyes widened as lightning flashed inside the domed
arena, crashing down around Sam filling the area with blinding
brightness.
"Oh no...What did I just do?" Lance whispered.
As the fifth bolt of lightning struck in front of Sam,
a circle of power snapped shut around him.
Sam's voice raised above the din of the lightning.
"Z Smrtno nevaren ljubezen ter Smrtno nevaren kri."
(By Mortal blood and Mortal love.)
"Pustiti nesmrten duh obstati omejitev v smrtno
nevaren meso."
(Let an immortal spirit be bound to mortal flesh.)"
"Z Sila od èrt, Pustiti Angel Patrick Padec!"
(By the power of the devil, let the angel Patrick fall!)"
Lance screamed as even more lightning crashed around Sam,
the sheer volume of lightning strikes scalded the air and
made it nearly impossible to breathe.
A second later, the lightning stopped and the stage grew
dark and quiet. Sam was gone, but a glowing pentagram remained
on the stage.
Lance looked up and saw a shape falling rapidly downwards
toward the pentagram on the stage. As it hit the stage with
a dull thud, Lance realized that it was a naked body of
a man.
Lance crawled over to the body and was relieved to see
by the rise and fall of the chest, that the man was alive.
Lance turned the man over and gasped as he saw the face.
"Patrick! He did it! You're alive!"
Patrick's eyes opened slowly and he stiffened and groaned.
"Oh God, Lance...what did you do?"
Author's Note: If this story made absolutely no sense
to you, you may need to read the first two stories that
lead up to this one. "Gifts Of Love" and "A
Boyband Christmas Carol"
-Billy Burrew
Questions or Comments? Email
Me!
or fill out and submit a reply form:
.gif){kind=tracking}
