You figure you'll know when JC and Bobbie are about done with their relationship when JC starts sleeping with you again.
JC always stops sleeping with you when he gets a new girlfriend. It's never the cause of a big, emotional scene, because really, what you have isn't a big, emotional thing. In fact, usually there isn't any sort of official declaration at all, you just... stop. JC will stop coming by at night, or slipping into your bunk on the bus, and you'll realize that you aren't doing it anymore. Usually JC tends to babble non-stop about some girl around this time, too, and that's also a pretty good clue.
Then, a few weeks or months later, you'll feel him watching you during rehearsal, or pressing up against you in photo shoots. It won't be long after that that JC will manage to find you alone somewhere, kissing you senseless while murmuring things like, "Missed you, J. Too long. Want you so much," against your mouth. And you'll heartily agree with each and every one of those sentiments, and it'll start up again.
You suppose that some people would think that JC is using you, or you him, but you never really think of it that way. It's not like you're in love with JC, or pining over JC, or not getting laid when JC isn't around. It's just that sex with JC is the best fucking thing you've ever experienced -- all puns intended -- and you don't see any good reason to pass it up when it's available. And let's face it. You've experienced a lot.
This is different from everything else. Better, sure. But more... real. Because it's someone you don't have to toss out of the room in the middle of the night. Someone whose eyes you'll be able to meet in the morning. Someone who isn't going to go on television and flutter her eyelashes and coo that the two of you are so in love and so perfect for each other. There's no pretense, no games -- except the kind that are fun and exciting and involve teasing and occasional props.
He leaves, but he always comes back. After he's done looking for... whatever it is he's looking for. JC doesn't just date, JC falls in love. Helplessly, heedlessly, in an euphoric rush that leaves him 20 feet off the ground. Inevitably, though, he falls back to earth with a sickening crash. Every time. Then he picks himself up, and goes out and tries again. Every time. You're not sure if you admire or pity him for that. You asked him about it once, lying together in bed, the sweat still cooling on your skin. "What are you looking for out there, C? Do you even know?"
His eyes grew thoughtful, but his hand never stopped caressing your hip. "It's... I don't know how to explain it. I just know it's out there, Just. I had it once. It's hard, though. To find. Maybe that's what makes it so precious." He kissed you then, long and slow and languid, and you turned toward him, eager and ready all over again, and forgot about asking anything else. So JC will keep looking for something he can't find, and in between, you'll get to share him. You figure you probably have the better end of the deal, unlike those poor girls out there who want to be more to him. After all, you're completely satisfied with what you've got.
It's an easy comfortable pattern, the comings and the goings, so you're unprepared when it takes an abrupt turn. You're in front of a camera, in the middle of TRL, when JC says that he's going to the VMA's alone, and you can't ask the questions that you want to with the world watching. Your shock shows, though, and it's Joey who has to jump in, turning the conversation in a new direction, and giving you a dark look when the cameras are off. JC avoids your eyes, and you're confused. Someone changed the rules without telling you.
The VMA's are a media circus, and Britney hovers around you like she's attached by a wire. Your arrangement with JC isn't exactly something she'd understand, so it's another day before you can corner JC to find out what's going on. Find out if he and Bobbie are really done, and if so, why he's keeping his distance. You and JC don't have secrets from each other, at least, you never thought you did.
You find him in the main room of the suite, curled up on the couch with his head in Joey's lap. Joey is stroking his hair, which is growing more long and wild by the day, murmuring soft words that sound soothing and comforting. JC turns his head when he sees you, but not before you catch the silver glimmer of tears on his cheeks. Joey frowns when he looks up at you, shaking his head and motioning you back out of the room with his eyes, and really, that's the last straw. You're not some stranger, some outsider, and you don't understand why you're suddenly being treated like one. By Joey, of all people.
"Joey," you start, not exactly sure what you're going to say next, but probably something about the fact that if JC is upset, it's his best friend who should be there comforting him. Not Joey. JC and Joey get along, of course, everyone in the group does, but they're not exactly close. You remember vaguely that they once were, way back when you started touring Europe, but that's distant and unclear. Joey and Lance became best friends, just like you and JC -- well, probably not just like you and JC, though you've had your suspicions -- and somehow distance grew between them.
Enough distance that you feel you're perfectly justified in pushing Joey out of what you've come to think of as your rightful place. Except that Chris shows up just then and takes the situation in at a glance. People tend to dismiss Chris as a clown or a cut up, and he is both of those things, but he is also the smartest person you've ever met. He sees more than anyone you know; can walk into a room and read the currents between people without even trying. So it's another unpleasant surprise when after looking at all of you, Chris nods slightly at Joey, and literally pulls you out of the room by the back of your tee shirt.
"The hell?" you hiss at him when you're in the other room, totally pissed off. No more so than he is, you realize suddenly, frozen by the anger in his eyes.
"Leave them the hell alone, Justin. Just leave them alone. JC doesn't need your crap right now, okay?"
And that's not fair, not fair at all. "Hey!" But Chris doesn't even want to hear it.
"I said leave them alone. JC is hurting, and Joey can help. You can't. Got it?"
No. You don't understand at all. But there's a tone of voice that Chris gets when he's not fucking around, a tone of voice he uses so rarely that you all jump to obey it, no questions asked. And that's the tone of voice you're hearing now. You just nod silently, outwardly docile. Inside you're still seething.
You finally get JC alone after the last rehearsal for the Jackson tribute, lingering in the dressing room until it's just the two of you. You come up behind him, and he meets your eyes in the mirror, his smile drawn around the edges, his eyes sad. "Hey," you say, lightly putting your hand on the small of his back. You're almost afraid that he'll pull away, confused as you are about what's been going on the past few days, but he leans into you like always, tipping his head back to rest against your arm.
"Hey," he answers, his voice so soft you have to lean down to hear it, and then you can't stand seeing the sadness in his eyes anymore, so you kiss him. It's just the lightest brush of lips, hardly more than a whisper, but you try to convey everything with that touch. It's the only way you can think of to let him know that you're there for him. But he knows that, doesn't he? He always knows.
He kisses back for a second, then pulls back with a little sigh. "J... I don't think... not this time. I don't... I can't, okay?" You can feel him hunch into himself as if he's expecting you to pull away and leave, and for some reason you don't understand, tears prickle behind your eyes.
"Hey, hey," you say, and you wrap your arms around him from where you're standing behind him, hooking your chin over his shoulder so your cheeks rest together. "I didn't mean... C, you know that I'm here for you, don't you?" Maybe he doesn't know. "It's not... I mean, the sex, yeah, it's great. But we're friends. First. Most of all. No matter what." It's not coming out right, and you're afraid that he won't get it, everything you're trying to say. How much his friendship means to you, even if the two of you never sleep together again.
But you can see from his eyes in the mirror that yeah, he gets it, and he looks a little teary, too. He squeezes your hands where they rest over his. "You're just the sweetest thing in the world, you know that?" And his eyes crinkle at the corners, his real smile, and you feel absurdly proud of yourself because you put it there.
Of course, that's when Joey walks back in, concerned because JC is taking so long. He stops when he sees the two of you wrapped together, and a look you can't read flashes across his face for an instant before it's gone. "Um. The limo is waiting. We should go." He looks like he's thinking about saying something else, but instead he turns around and walks out.
You feel JC slump back against you, and his eyes close as he sighs again. He looks sad again. The anger that's been barely under the surface is simmering higher. Chris may think that Joey is helping JC, but it's pretty obvious to you that he's only making things worse.
In the limo, your arm around JC's waist is possessive, your eyes daring Joey or Chris to say a single word. He curls up next to you, all sharp edges and bony limbs, and you sweep one hand up and down his thin back, trying to impart warmth and comfort and love. His breath on your neck makes you shiver, but in a good way. This is how things are supposed to be, finally.
Things stay that way up until you get up to your floor in the hotel, when he pulls away from you at his door. "I'm gonna crash, J. Thanks, though. For everything. Really." He hugs you, tight, and you don't know what to say to get him to let you stay.
You're not sure what makes you do it, but after you go back to your own room, you count to ten, and then open the door a crack and peer out. You can just barely see JC leave his own room, and go knock on Joey's door. He rests his forehead against the door, talking in a low voice, and finally the door opens, and he goes inside. You go back into your room and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling until you fall asleep.
That's the last time you see JC alone for days, because every time after that, Joey is always there. You don't get it. You don't understand when Joey and JC became joined at the hip, or when JC stopped turning to you, or when you started to feel like an outsider in your own group. At first you think you're paranoid when Chris always seems to pop up at the most inopportune moments, but then you realize that he really is running interference for them. Keeping you away. And Lance, who you'd think would be a little ticked off about losing his best friend too, is so wrapped up in the last minute details for his movie that he hardly looks up from his laptop long enough to sing and dance, let alone get caught in the chaotic swirl that is happening around him. Around all of you.
Desperation makes you sneaky, and you tell Lance that you lost your key so that you can get the extra key card from him, palming JC's in the process. The two of you need to sit and talk. You just need to get him alone.
You slip into his room early, just after the sun is up, knowing that he'll still be asleep and that if you wake him up gently he'll be drowsy and pliant and affectionate. You've woken up next to him enough mornings to know that, and you figure that will be the best time to talk, when both of you can just let your defenses down. You're worried about him. You miss him. You need him to know that. You need to know what's going on inside his head.
You slip into the room almost silently, tiptoeing over to the bed. The curtains are open just a crack, allowing the faintest sliver of early-morning light to fall over the bed. What you see there stops you dead in your tracks.
They should look so wrong together, Joey so large and masculine, and JC so delicate, almost frail. But they look... perfect, Joey's big hands cupping JC tenderly, JC's long eyelashes fluttering against Joey's chest.
This is what you didn't see. This is what you didn't understand.
You back out of the room as quietly as you entered, and then just stand in the hallway staring at the door. You're shaking. You're not sure why. Or maybe you know exactly why, you just can't admit it to yourself. Nothing really registers until you hear a noise and look up to see Chris staring at you with something that looks like pity in his eyes.
That's more than you can take, and you take flight, not even sure where you're running. You crash into the stairwell, and run up. It doesn't matter where you go, you just need to keep moving. You end up on the roof, leaning against the railing, breathing heavily. You flinch when you feel Chris's hand on the back of your neck, but you don't pull away.
"They were gonna tell you, J. No one wanted you to find out that way. It's just... new. Fragile."
"Well, they're moving pretty fast for 'new', don'tcha think?" That's pretty rich coming from someone who's been sleeping with JC for the past two years, you suppose, but you don't really care. You figure you're entitled to a little bitterness. Or maybe even a lot.
Chris is quiet for a long time, long enough that it becomes uncharacteristic and you look up to see what's going on. He's staring out over the city, but you know he's seeing something else, something far away.
"A long time ago... you probably don't even remember... when we were in Germany. JC and Joey, they, well. They were together. They were in love, I think, though I never had the guts to ask either of them about it, after."
"After what?" you ask, but you have a feeling you already know, and you feel a knot form in your stomach.
"After Lou found out. He, well, it wasn't pretty. They were so young, J. Just kids. Joey was younger than you are now, and C... well, C's never been well-equipped to deal with the every day stress of life, let alone this. It was horrible. Joey was hitting shit, and JC couldn't stop crying... you remember when JC couldn't perform because he had the flu, and Lou had a fit?"
You remember, barely. JC, who was always tired, somehow never got sick. But that time he'd been laid flat out, practically unable to move from his bed. You had been terrified when you heard Lou screaming at him, reminding him that he could be replaced, that he was nothing special. You and Lance had huddled in your room, holding hands so tightly that your knuckles turned white, and had vowed to each other that you'd never get too sick to perform. That vow had ended up nearly killing Lance.
You also remember that Lou had ordered Joey to sing JC's solos, and the way his fists had clenched before he nodded stiffly, then stormed out of the room. You remember it because you had always thought that Joey would jump at the chance to be one of the lead singers, and you'd been secretly relieved at what you thought was evidence that he wasn't after one of the top spots.
It was after that, you realize, that Joey and Lance became close. And you and JC started hanging out again, rekindling the friendship from MMC. You had almost forgotten that there had ever been anything different before that. But there had been.
"They broke up. Lou made them break up." It's not a question. You know that's what must have happened. And you know, finally, what it is that JC has been looking for all these years. "I had it once," he'd told you that day. You understand what that means now.
"Yeah. He, well, he pulled out every dirty trick in the book. They held out for a long time, longer than I think I could have. But in the end, he threatened C. Said he'd take away his solos, throw him out of the group. If Lou had said that about him, Joe would have just told him to go fuck himself. But he couldn't let Lou hurt JC. He just... couldn't." Chris is watching the play of memories across your face. "We tried to keep it from you and Lance, we didn't want to get you involved. And after a while. Well. People don't forget. But they move on. They get on with their lives. They have to."
"And now?"
"Maybe... now it's finally the right time for them. And maybe it won't work out at all, because it's been too long, and they've changed too much. I don't know. But I know they deserve this chance. They never really got one the first time." You don't realize that his hand is still on the back of your neck until you feel him rubbing gently. "And I'm sorry that you had to get hurt. I'm sure they are, too."
You shake his hand away, forcing a laugh to your lips. "Hey, I'm cool with it. Don't worry about me."
"Justin." Just that one word, and you know you have to raise your head and meet his eyes. And once he's looking in your eyes you know you can't hide anything from him. He sees too much. "You can lie to me if it makes you feel better. But don't lie to yourself."
You rub at your eyes with your fist, feeling like that fourteen year old kid who used to get homesick in Germany and go crawling into JC's lap for comfort. Part of you wishes you could be that kid again. "I guess. Somehow, deep down. I always thought that JC would realize that what he was looking for... he'd had all along." A smile ghosts across your face like clouds racing over the sun. "And I guess he did. It just wasn't with me."
Chris, who understands so much more than he usually lets on, leaves you alone then. You don't even have to ask.
You can see the city come alive from here, the traffic getting heavier, the pedestrians down on the street. You wonder how many of them have someone to go home to at the end of the day. You wonder if any of them are as alone as you feel.
But underneath the ache, you know you're happy for them. Chris is right. They deserve this. This chance. JC deserves to find it, that thing he's been looking for so hard all this time. And deep down, you hope he's found it, and will finally be truly happy.
And you let yourself hope that maybe something like that is out there waiting for you, too. Because now that you've had a taste of it, you understand why JC kept looking so hard.
And you hope that you'll be lucky enough to find it, too.
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