nsync in black and white

Disclaimer: this is fiction. We made it up.

Life's Driving Strength

by Mary, written for Lydia

"Your energy, your movement, your feeling about the world,
your dance spirit: that is what we see under the lights."

Dance Magazine

"Thank you for coming down to the studios," JC said lightly.

"Joshua, how long have we known each other?" Lance asked, amusement in his voice. When JC didn't say anything, he shook his head, "Five years, Joshua. You don't have to be so prim and proper with me."

"Sorry, I just, I never did this before."

"We're talking about money and companies, not sexual favors," Lance raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be adverse to that, but I don't think I'm your type, if memory serves me correctly."

"Sorry, man, you know what I like," and JC relaxed for the first time.

"I do. I also know people and you need to get your head out of your ass and right things with him, if what I'm hearing is correct."

JC cleared his throat and tightened his smile, "Right, Lance, about your offer. I have some questions."

"Go right ahead," he held his hands out in an invitation to ask.

"Why me?" he asked abruptly. "Ever since you met me after that one benefit five years ago, you've always shown an interest in my dancing, in my technique, in my life. Why are you offering me my own company? Why not one of the hundreds of other dancers out there?"

Lance leaned back in the seat in JC's office, thinking his words through. "You're beautiful," he began. "When I first saw you on the ABT stage, I thought you were a great star, outshining all your other dancers. Over the years, you've just gotten increasingly better. If there was someone to offer money to for a company, it had to be the best. Plus, the friendship we've had since then doesn't hurt."

"How do you know I'm the best?" JC challenged. "There are dancers in Paris, in Moscow, hell, in San Francisco."

"Truthfully?" JC nodded. "In the beginning, I had hoped it would make you want me." Before JC could say anything, Lance held up his hand. "In the beginning, not anymore, not for a few years." He leaned forward and his eyes zoomed in on JC's face. "You are the best I have seen in the majority of my life. I have no doubt that your name will go down in history the way Anna Pavlova and Mischa Burlakov have gone down in ballet history. And I want to help you. I would be lying if I said I didn't hope for some recognition, but honestly, you know me by now and know how incredibly vain I can be."

JC actually laughed but then quieted. "But how would you know what was good? How would you know what a good ballet dancer should be? You're not one."

"No," Lance agreed, "I'm not a dancer. I didn't have the body form for it. That doesn't mean I didn't want it."

JC made a decision.




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