CHAPTER 1
The door of the bus hissed shut and the engine roared as the bus moved off.
Hiking his duffle bag onto his shoulder, JC once again consulted his cellphone
to confirm Lance's address and then began to walk.
As JC crossed the road to get to Lance's apartment, he surveyed the area. Quite
a few cafes and eateries sat along the boulevard. Music blared through the
entrance of a music shop a block down. Apart from three 5 storey apartments, the
rest were two storey houses separated by narrow alleys. Peeping over the low
gates, JC could see folks lounging on chairs and reading newspapers or hanging
laundry to dry. A few teens loitered around the steps leading down from the
apartments, clad in tanks and beaters and smoking and chatting.
The apartment was just a few minutes walk away from the beach, which delighted
JC. There was something about the ocean that made him want to write more and
capture the world on film. And that was something he really needed to get
started on. His phone call to Johnny Wright has been fruitful and had ended with
him promising to get Wright what he needed by June.
His phone call to his mother had not been as easy. Karen Chasez has no qualms
about saying 'I told you so' when it came to JC's boyfriends. She was convinced
that JC was confused. JC was happy to let her think so as long as she didn't
disown him.
The final call was the reason why he was at Ocean View Boulevard. Lance had been
insistent that JC come and stay with him. Chris had backed him up saying that
he'd been back a week and had all the Bass ass his dick could take for the
moment. He was adding that he needed the recovery time when Lance pulled the
phone back. JC promised to be there...if only for the comedy routine.
JC reached Lance's place at 2; 3 hours earlier than he had told Lance he would.
Hoping that Lance was back from work or that Chris was in, he ascended the steps
to the apartment block. As he entered, he pulled out his cellphone to check on
Lance's apartment number. At that moment a curly-haired kid of about 9 or 10,
ran past him, knocking his phone to the ground. The kid threw a muttered sorry
over his shoulder and continued running. JC huffed in anger and bent down to
pick up his phone. When he looked at the screen, it showed nothing. Fearing the
worse, he hit the switch at the side to try to turn it on but still...nothing.
JC swore under his breath. He didn't know Lance's apartment number and now he
would have to knock on all the doors. He closed his eyes and tried to recall it.
"I know it's the 4th floor but which....O3? Or 05?"
Then he hit his forehead with his palm.
"Just check the mailboxes, Chasez, you Einstein!"
Chuckling at himself, he walked towards the row of mailboxes. The last names
were clearly stated on the individual slots. He saw Bass indicated on the
mailbox of apartment 04-05 and grinned, before heading to the stairs.
Upon reaching the 4th floor, JC began to walk down the corridor. There were 4
apartments there. He walked forward, looking for 04-05 and found it to be the
one at the end of the corridor. Dropping his bag to the floor beside a potted
plant, he began knocking on the door, keeping his fingers crossed. He could hear
no movement but knocked harder and louder. After a few minutes he gave up. Nope,
both Chris and Lance were not in. He would just have to wait till 5. JC looked
at his watch. That was another 3 hours! He sighed and dropped beside his bag, to
lean against the wall and wait.
As he moved to pull out his IPod from his bag, he accidentally elbowed a potted
plant over. Moving to right it, he spied the silvery glint of a key under the
pot. Smiling and at the same time internally scolding Lance for his reckless
action, JC stood up to try the key. It was not like Lance to do something like
this. His friend was usually anal about safety precautions so JC presumed the
key was Chris' doing.
"It must be my lucky day," JC muttered under his breath and opened the door.
The room was more of a surprise than the hidden key. It was a mess. Clothes hung
messily from furniture, balls of crumbled paper littered the floor and take-out
containers sat on the couch and table.
"Lance, how the hell did *you* hook up with a slob like Chris?" JC mused aloud.
Yet it didn't make sense. Weren't army guys trained to keep their bunks and
stuff clean and spotless? JC shook his head as he closed the door behind him and
dropped his bag onto the only litter-free piece of furniture in the room. Clean
and clear except for a guitar which lay there.
"Didn't know Chris played."
JC picked up the guitar and strumed a few chords. Smiling, he put it back. He
ran his fingers through his curly brown hair and tied it back neatly into the
ponytail it had been in. He knew what he was going to do until Chris and Lance
came back. He was going to clean this mess up. It was the least he could do for
their act of friendship in putting him up.
Bending over to pick up the rubbish from the floor, JC began work.
***
By the time JC finished, the place was spotless. Well at least the living room
and the kitchen were. JC did not venture further out of respect for Lance and
Chris' privacy. He was pleased with his work. After picking up after Marshall
during the time they were together, JC was by now an expert in housekeeping.
Tired from the chores, he sat down on the couch and lifted his legs to rest on
the couch as well. He noted the time for 4.30 and reached for the remote to turn
on the television. He surfed through a few channels and found nothing
interesting and so turned it off and lay back on the couch. Maybe he could get a
little sleep before Lance and Chris returned.
JC didn't know how long he had slept when he was awakened by a nudge to his
foot. He quickly sat up, expecting to see a smiling Lance. Instead he found
himself looking at a...six foot tall, muscle-clad vision of a man who was at the
moment holding a bat in his hand and glaring at JC.
"Who the fuck are you?!"