Work Text:
Charlie: January
“Mom!” I call towards the kitchen where she’s wrangling Olly. “I need to look at your old tax returns for this financial aid form.”
She sighs and walks towards the living room where I’m sitting on Nick’s lap and studying all the things I have to fill out for my college applications. “Must you shout, always?”
“Oh, sorry, Mom,” I reply sheepishly.
She walks over and looks at the form in question. “Ugh, three years of past tax returns?”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “This is a supplemental questionnaire, so I think this school really looks at each student’s actual financial situation.”
“Mmm, okay,” Mom studies the screen carefully. “On my laptop there’s a secondary hard drive — the data drive — that has all of the stuff from my old computer on it. If you look on that drive, you should be able to find the last three tax returns.”
I look at her quizzically. “Do I need your login?”
“No, the drive is findable on all logins. Just look for the jdriscoll user profile on the drive.”
“Wow, that’s an old username, Mom!”
She looks at me flatly. “I know.” She pauses. “That drive has everything I’ve ever had on a laptop ever, going back to my first computer.”
Hmm, interesting. I give Nick, who’s been talking to Olly about tractors for the duration of this conversation, a saucy look. He looks back at me in confusion but grabs my hand. We head upstairs to Mom’s office to go through the laptop.
Once we get upstairs, I close the door, and we make out for a while. Hey, I missed my man while he was away at school, and now I get several weeks of him. I’m getting my fill. So, to speak. Well, that way, too.
After several kisses, before things start to escalate…again…I pull back from Nick’s embrace. He whines at the loss of the press of my body against his. I point to the desk chair, and he sits, and I take my place on his lap. I log in and navigate to the drive and easily find the tax return files I need. I fill out the relevant parts of the form and upload them to the school’s website as required.
But then something catches my eye.
“Why does my mom have a folder called “NSYNC?’”
“The boy band?” Nick asks, nose against my neck.
I point to the screen. “I mean yeah?”
“No idea.”
I look around, and the door’s still shut. I click on the folder. And OH MY GOD.
“Nick,” I hiss. “LOOK!”
There are many files in this folder. Some are image files titled “jcandjustin.jpeg” and a PowerPoint presentation about hats, but then there are several Word files. Word files named things like:
- Bi_Bi_Bi_FINALFINAL.doc
- JC_Superstar_Slash.doc
- Just_the_Frosted_Tip_FINALver2.doc
- Baby_Bareback_Published.doc
“JESUS CHRIST!” I exclaim as I excitedly open the Baby Bareback document.
“Char? Should we be doing this?” Nick asks.
“NICHOLAS. I need to know why my mom has a file called ‘Baby Bareback’ on her drive!” I exclaim. Nothing is stopping me at this point. I read over it, and it’s *N SYNC real person fan fiction. Like, what?
“Nick!”
He drops his head onto my shoulder. “I’m not sure I want to know, Char.”
“But, but... it’s about barebacking on a deserted island! And for some reason there’s a Chili’s?” I’m scanning while reading and then I stop. “Jesus, Nick, there’s no prep at all. Just right to the full anal.”
“Char, did your Mom write this?”
I shake my head. “No, she couldn’t. Why? Why would she?”
I go back to the folder and open Just the Frosted Tip and it’s all JC Chasez creampie-ing Justin Timberlake in graphic detail. I take a breath and look at the file properties on what I’m reading.
“Nick?”
“Hmm?”
“The file was created by her. Last edited July 17, 2000.”
Jane: July 2000
It’s so embarrassing that I enjoy *N SYNC so much. I know. I KNOW. But their new album? It’s catchy. It’s fun. It’s…well, kind of stupid. And maybe I need something wicked stupid. I guess, maybe, I need an escape.
That’s what this whole summer is, actually. I found a well-paying on-campus job working for summer events, and it comes with free housing. Sure, that’s because some nights I’m on-call in case someone gets locked out of their room, but the most important thing is that I am not at home.
I just needed a break. I need a break. I couldn’t spend another summer at home, under my mother’s thumb. Or, more likely, against the flat of her hand. I don’t like my mom very much. I’m a disappointment. I don’t do anything right. I’m somehow a whore, even though I’m a virgin. Everything I do or say is dissected, broken down, and imbued with negative intentions. She keeps grilling me about my upcoming semester in the Dominican Republic. I.Need.A.Break.
So, here I am with this job that some days is 24-hours, a free place to stay, and free cable TV. I watch a lot of MTV. A lot of MTV. I look forward to *N SYNC showing up on TRL.
I swear I usually listen to Matchbox 20 or Train, not boy bands.
It’s fun.
So, well, the truth is. I think JC is kinda hot. And I was looking around online, and apparently there’s this stuff called slash fanfiction? And people write stories about JC and Justin having sex. And, well, I like to read it.
This is so embarrassing. Why am I telling you this?
I even started writing my own stories. Let me tell you, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m a straight woman, and I’ve never had sex. So, I metaphorically close my eyes and write what sounds good from other stories. Men always come at the same time, right?
I may be a virgin, but ten inches seems like… a lot.
Briiiing! Briiiing!
Oh shit, that’s my work phone. I have to go and let someone into their room.
Charlie: January
Oh my God, my mom used to write *N SYNC fanfiction when she was in college. I’m, for once, rendered speechless. I sit and stare at the screen while Nick noses at my neck. I feel him start to wiggle a little, and I realize there are footsteps on the stairs.
“Charlie, door!” Mom announces as she swings open the office door.
For once I’m not canoodling with Nick, but rather there’s an obviously doctored image of JC and Justin kissing up on the screen. Mom noticeably startles.
“Charlie…,” she sounds unsure as the color drains from her face.
“Mom?”
She crosses her arms and purses her lips. “You shouldn’t be snooping.”
“YOU WROTE GAY FANFICTION IN 2000!” I blurt out. Nick wriggles enough beneath me that I stand up, and he walks out of the room. He grimaces in lieu of an explanation.
Mom snaps her eyes shut and scrunches her face. “Charlie… this is private.”
“Did you post these online? That’s not private!”
She purses her lips together again before responding. “Yes, but under a screen name.”
“What was your screen name, itsgonnabehardcoreanal?” I am bewildered.
“Charles Francis Spring, that is enough.” Oh fuck, she full-named me. I was pretty rude, oops.
Nick calls up the stairs that Yan needs him, and he’s going home. Lucky bastard.
I can’t let this go. I’m having a full Tao moment. I’m gripping onto this conversation the way Nellie plays tug of war with her favorite rope — or the way Tao has any conversation. “Ok, but Mom. Why?”
“Why? I don’t know! They were attractive young men?” She’s exasperated. ”I liked *N SYNC, I enjoyed their dynamic, I wanted an escape from reality, and then I went down an internet rabbit hole and ended up in slash fanfiction.”
“Hmmm.” I think it through. There’s so many things I want to say but shouldn’t — she doesn’t need to know about prepping for anal sex — from me, anyway. “Um, I don’t know what to say now, Mom.”
She shakes her head. “Me either?” her voice rising in question at the end.
“Does Dad know?”
“Yes.”
“Does Grandma know?”
“No!”
“Do you still… like fanfiction?” I am trying to tread more carefully, for both our sakes. This is already ample fodder for my next therapy session with Jeff.
“Err, yes. I have a few fandoms I enjoy.”
“Ohhhh…kay. I’m not sure I want to know what they are.”
She laughs. “I am sure I don’t want you to know what they are!”