| The loud throbbing of the dance music bounced through Lance's head sharpley and he resisted the urge to cover his ears. Sitting at the bar on a horribly uncomfortable stool, he nursed his fifth beer, fiddling aimlessly with a cocktail napkin. Every so often, a woman would approach, sometimes cautiously, sometimes bravely, and gush in his ear. Of course, he smiled politely, and signed whatever they thrust at him, but inside he was just dying to get the hell out of there. A million things were on his mind, none of which he could accomplish while sitting idily in some club in the middle of nowhere. He chewed on a red drink stirrer, and shifted his body to look at the dance floor. He rolled his eyes as she approached, his girlfriend of almost seven months, dressed to the nines in tight black leather pants with a white halter top held together by strings. He'd flipped out when she put it on, insisting she change. It was too, well, too revealing. She had refused, naturally, and given him that pouty look, determination filled eyes challenging his. "I am wearing this, so deal with it!" There was nothing he could do, as JC and his girlfriend were banging at the hotel door, urging the couple to hurry. "Hey baby, come dance with me," she said, wrapping her tanned arms around his neck and pulling him close. Lance rubbed the small of her back, cringing at the feel of her bare skin, wondering just how many men had been fantasizing about her, or how many men had been out on that dance floor, grinding against her. Sighing heavily, he shook his head at her. "You know I hate to dance to this crap," he stated flatly, annoyed that after all this time together, she still didn't get it. "Come on, I'm ready to go." He threw a few bills down on the bar, and grabbed her hand, ready to head for the door. She pulled away, her blue eyes catching his green ones in defiance. "Not!" she breathed, aggrivated that he was once again being a spoil sport and not playing fair. "Lance, I want to stay. We just got here. Please." She pleaded, pulling her long blonde hair from her neck in an attempt to cool down. The club was growing warmer with all the bodies, and for the past two hours, she'd spent most of her time on the dance floor, crushed between dozens of people. Lance shoved his hands in his pockets. The only thing he knew was that his head was aching, and he wanted to finish up some things for his new artist. Not to mention the hectic day he'd had, adding the fact they had an early morning radio show to do the next day. He tried to keep his anger in check, but she was growing tiresome. "Ten more minutes," he warned, "Then I'm gone. Come with me or don't, but I need to get some shit done." He reclaimed his bar stool, and lifted his hand to order another drink, turning away from her. Frustration was mounting inside of her, sick of his spoiled behavior, sick of being ignored. He never really wanted to spend time with her, it just seemed as though he was tolerating her. Gone were the hot and heavy make out sessions, the time when they couldn't keep their hands off one another, the newness and the fun of being together. Now, it seemed as if all he did was bitch at her for the way she dressed, or the things she said, or for hanging out with the other girlfriends too much. Nothing she did was good enough for him, and their relationship was suffering tremendously because of it. Tears pricked her eyes, and she pressed them back, vowing not to cry again. There was no reason. They would talk later, when he was in a better mood, if there was such a thing. Quietly, she stared at the back of him, hunched over the bar, sipping yet another beer, and tried to figure out where they had gone so wrong. Another woman approached him, and she watched with envy as Lance smiled for the fan, laughed and joked with her, even slipped a friendly arm around her shoulders. He gave this stranger more love than he gave her. Anger consumed her, and she turned, slamming right into Justin, spilling his drink a bit. "Easy there," he laughed, steading her. His blue eyes danced happily, and he touched her nose. "Having fun?" he asked. "Tons," the reply came, sarcastically. She couldn't hold it in anymore. "Mr. Funtime over there is in another mood." She rubbed her hands over her face and blinked hard. "I swear to God, I'm going to loose my mind." Justin grabbed her elbow and guided her over to a corner booth, motioning for her to sit down with him. He slid in after her and took a sip of his rum and coke. "Talk, girl. Let it out." His face was comforting, and she threw her head back. "Where the hell to start?" she groaned. "Justin, he's not changing. It's been like this for months now. I just can't reach him. No matter what I do, no matter what I say. He's so preoccupied with this damn management company, and it seems like he'll do anything as long as he doesn't have to get close to me." She paused, and bodly reached for Justin's cup, downing the rest of his drink. "I want to have fun, dance, be with my man. But he wants nothing to do with that, or me." Sadness laced her voice, and Justin wrapped his arms around her shoulders, attempting to make her feel better. "Look, I have no idea what he's thinking. You're a great girl, and he shouldn't make you feel bad." He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. "Let's go dance. That always makes you feel better." Smiling broadly at her, he weaved through the mass of bodies, and lead her to the middle of the floor, immediately sensing her mood change for the better. She grinned at him as the strains of DMX filled the room. Her body moved easily, dancning came naturally for her, as it did for Justin. The two of them grinded and moved together in perfect rythem. Over Justin's shoulder, she spied Joey, doing a hideous dance with some girl, causing her to break into a fit of giggles. Justin's eyes questioned hers, and she spun him around, pointing. She moved closer to his back, grabbing him around the waist as he watched in laughter his friend tearing it up with his partner, and they continued to groove. Joey waved happily from across the room, and they both waved back. Forgotten in the moment was her boyfriend, who continued to sit unhappily at the bar. He checked his watch every few minutes, and true to his word, marched to the edge of the dance floor when exactly ten minutes passed. He scanned the sea of people, easily catching his girlfriend out there. She was truly one of a kind in beauty, and with Justin as a partner, they were causing a stir. Lance stared at her for a moment, and his heartbeat quickened. He did care about her so much, she was such a sweet person. So why was he acting like an asshole? He didn't know, he only knew that his mood soured the nicer she was to him. Everytime she tried to cuddle with him, he pushed her away, only kissing or hugging when he was cornered, or felt so guilty he had to. Sex was out of the question, he had put her off the entire seven months, claiming he was waiting for marriage. What a bunch of bullshit that was. Whatever made him not consummate the relationship was a mystery to him. He was content to hold her in his arms, fool around to no end, do anything and everything BUT the actual act. Many nights when they were apart, he would vow that next time they saw one another, he would be back to normal, and do the deed. He wanted to, oh how his body wanted to, but his mind wouldn't let him. That was a truly frustrating situation, one he couldn't share with anyone. Now in the smoky haze, he watched with an envious eye as his best friend shook it up intimately with the woman he supposedly loved. He knew he should be the one out there, bumping and grinding, but that was not his style. She clicked with Justin on some level he couldn't, they flirted endlessly, but he wasn't jealous per say. He trusted them both enough to know that the flirting was all there was to it, nothing more. It was in both their natures, so he took it in stride. He was more jealous that he didn't have Justin's easiness with her, that comfortable side to just kick back and not care what others thought. JC appeared, girlfriend in tow, and placed his hand on Lance's shoulder. "You should be out there," he laughed, as a slow song began to play. "Man, it's a romance thing, get your ass out there." Lance frowned as Justin wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, continuing to dance. Her eyes met his, and she waved for him to come over. Justin backed away slightly, and followed her gaze to Lance. He held her hand up for him to take, but when Lance waved back his "no", Justin shook his head at him, angry that he wouldn't come and dance with his own lady. From where he stood, Lance could see the hurt flash in her eyes, hurt that it seemed as if he didn't want her, but he did. He ached to hold her on that dance floor, so what the hell was his problem. JC's girlfriend leaned over to his ear. "That's cold, Lance. Very cold. You're doing serious damage to your relationship." Lance shrank back and glared at her. He always thought she was too much of a busy body. "Shut up," he hissed. "If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it." One last glance at his girlfriend, who now had her head buried in Justin's shoulder, visably upset, and he stormed from the club. One of the three N Sync bodyguards who had been assigned to go with the group that evening, followed Lance out to the street and into the limo. He slumped down in the leather seat, and closed his eyes, trying to make sense of his crappy mood swings. The bodyguard eyed him carefully, having witnessed several out of the ordinary scenes beween Lance and Katlyn, this being just one more to add to the books. "You okay?" he asked, staring at the young singer across from him. "You didn't seem to have a very good time." Lance opened his eyes, and rubbed his chin, snickering bitterly. "Fuck clubs. I just never learn. They suck." He stared out the window into the darkness that flashed by, wondering how much longer he would be like this. Silently, he chewed on his lip, and blinked back his tears of frustration. JC joined Justin on the dance floor with his own girlfriend. They moved closer to one another. "Lance left," JC commented. "Just took off. No goodbye, nothing. He's sending the limo back for us." Katlyn looked up from her safe spot buried in Justin, and frowned. "I just don't get him. Screw it," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm here to have fun, so if he wants to act like a child, let him." She dragged a stunned Justin from the floor, leading him to the bar. "Body shots baby!" she giggled, ordering them from the bar. Justin eyed her with amusement, and nodded as Joey and some girl came over, deciding to do some as well. The sensuous nature of the shots, combined with the sexy beat of the music was causing a change in Justin. He eyed Lance's girlfriend with a new found interest, having been privvy to much of the relationship secrets. One more body shot, and he was flying high, his blue eyes droopy with drunkeness. Katlyn laughed at him, feeling the effects of the alchol herself. "Why are you looking at me like that Mr. Timberlake?" He gazed out at her from under his curly eyelashes, his stare burning into her. "I think you know," he teased, not daring to move any closer. He enjoyed flirting with her greatly, it was fun, she was fun, and Lance was just an idiot for not treating her better. The very fact his friend hadn't even had sex with her was horrifying to him, just crazy. She was so hot, and he was feeling her closeness right now, affecting him dangerously. Thank God JC and Joey weren't far away, because his body was screaming at him to grab her, kiss her and feel her against him. He just didn't trust himself at the moment, and she was looking back at him, her lips curled into a smile. Blood, his blood actually felt like it was boiling, and he tore his gaze from her quickly, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. A fan came up to him, thankfully, and broke the moment, giving him a chance to regain his senses. He had a girlfriend, his pop princess, and he loved her intensly, but he was lonely, and horny, and one thing he and Katlyn both had in commen was their significant others were not putting out. They had each discovered that during a long heart to heart on the bus one evening. Justin glanced up from signing an autograph to see she was gone, back out on the dancefloor, being propositioned by guy after guy. He didn't want to be rude to the fan, so he kept one eye on her, one eye on his fan, until he saw a scene unfold that he didn't care for. "Get your filthy hands off me!" Katlyn screamed, as a wrestler type college guy grabbed her from behind, pressing himself against her backside. She could feel his excitement against her, and struggled to get free. "You fucking animal, get off me!" There were so many people out there, she was shrouded by his friends. "Come on," he growled, grinding himself harder. "I see the way you're dressed. I know you want it." Panic washed over her as she felt the strings of her halter being tugged at. "Fuck you," she hissed, glad that Lance had double, triple tied them for fear of them falling open. She spotted Justin and JC pushing through the crowd to get to her, Justin's face red with rage. He pulled the guy away from her, balling up his fist and landing it square in the huge man's face, causing him to sprawl backwards. "You okay?" he asked her, never letting his guard down. The goon on the floor stood up quickly, spearing Justin in the gut, shoving him to the dance floor. "Wanna play rough pretty boy?" he screamed, punching Justin in the kidneys before Katlyn hopped onto the guy's back, ripping fistfuls of his hair out, hollering into his ear. JC grabbed her around the waist, as two bouncers and the N Sync bodyguards made their way in, seperating the fight. Katlyn kicked out at the college boy, connecting with his groing, sending him doubling over in pain. JC laughed and let her down, carefully. She knelt down by Justin. "Oh my God," she gasped, "Are you alright?" He smiled at her, and gently stood up, touching the tender spot on his side. She lifted up his white button down, and checked him over. "Are you crazy?" she asked him squarely, pushing his hand away to get a better look. "You could have been killed." Justin pushed her fussing hands away and grinned at her. "I'm fine. I'm not a wimp ass you know. Let's get out of here," he whispered, leaving a stunned JC and crowd while he pulled her out a back door. The excitement of the moment was building, and her hand was hot in his, so dainty and soft. He lifted it to his lips quickly, just to feel the reality of it brush against his lips. "Hurry," he commanded, ignoring her questions until he saw the limo. The driver opened the door, and Justin pushed her in. He turned to the driver and fished out a hundred dollar bill. "I need an hour, just drive around." The driver nodded, smiling knowingly, and closed the door after Justin climbed in. Katlyn sat across the leather seat, her back flush with the driver's side door. Justin lifted her feet, placing them across his lap, and raised the privacy window. "Well, that was interesting," he smirked, staring at her. She tilted her head, and pushed a stray strand of blonde hair from her face. "Interesting? Is that all you can say?" she murmered, feeling her body grow warm under the feel of his hands, hot through her leather pants, running up and down her calf, caressing it. She tried not to look into his eyes, they were on her, so obvious what was on his mind, it made her want to scream. She loved Lance, truly, and as sexually frustrated as she was, she knew if she cast even one glance at Justin, she might loose it. Admittedly, it was nice to be touched, looked at with lustful eyes, wanted. Lance never looked at her like that anymore. She averted her gaze anywhere but on Justin's, staring at his shoes, his jeans, his white shirt, still unbuttoned. Oh God, it wasn't helping at all, she could see his stomach, that little trail of hair that disappeared under his belt. Her cheeks flushed and she attempted to pull her legs from his lap, anything to help cool off the situation. "So," she croaked, her throat feeling especially dry, "Radio show in the morning. I'm sleeping in," she tried to laugh, but it stuck in her, as he moved closer, his hand trailing up her thigh to her stomach, exposed slightly. "Justin," she whispered, closing her eyes and giving in briefly. He couldn't help himself. She was real, she was here with him, and he knew he wasn't mistaking the desire in her blue eyes, the blush in her cheeks. If Lance wasn't man enough to satisfy her, he would step up. In his mind, he rationalized it. He wasn't getting any, nor was she, and although love was a nice thing in theory, sex was a better thing in reality. His body moved easily over hers, and he touched her neck, his fingertips grazing her jawline before letting his lips nibble on it. A low moan fell from his lips as he came to grips with the ferocity with which he wanted her. She let his lips dance on her face, just a moment in time wouldn't hurt anything. Then her fingers were in his curls, pushing his head to her. He pulled himself up her body, and his thumbs brushed her lips before his mouth crushed down on hers, his tounge slipping in recklessly. Moments turned to minutes before she mustered up strength to push him back. "No, Justin, no." Her words were honest, but not firm enough for him to believe. "Yes, Katlyn, yes," his breath was hot on her neck, and he let his hands roam down her body. She struggled to sit up, being pinned by his body. Savoring the feeling, she noticed how different it was from Lance's; Justin was tight, lanky, muscular. Helplessness settled upon her and she opened her eyes, to see him staring down into her. "You know we need this," he gasped, "We need each other." Katlyn let his words sink into her drunken mind, and they sounded so damn good, so rational. She needed sex, loved the feel of it. Of course she wanted Lance, not Justin, but the temptation was so strong. His blue eyes were shades deeper suddenly, consumed with desire for her. All she could do was nod, in agreement of his statement, and melt into his touch. He peeled her pants down, tracing a line from her belly button to her panty line, with feathery light grazes. She sucked in her breath as he placed his hand between her legs, and leaned back into the leather, clutching at his hair. It was surreal, like a dream, but so much better. He didn't know how much longer he could wait, the feeling of tightness in his groin growing more insistant with each touch. He definately didn't want to be selfish, but she felt better than he could have imagined. Justin felt her hands reach down to unbutton his jeans, and he focused on not spoiling the event before it happened. Soon, his jeans were tossed to the limo floor, and he was inside her in a frenzied lust, moaning her name softly. She clutched him to her, her mind spinning dangerously, her body rocking underneath his weight. The pleasure mounted inside her and tears stung her eyes at the sensation. She reached for his hands, and placed one of his fingers in her mouth to keep from screaming. The sucking motion on his finger drove him straight over the edge, and his jaw clenched, trying to hold back until he was sure she was done. A small groan of satisfaction escaped from her lips, and he looked down, her mouth parted slightly, her breathing erratic, and then the pulsating feeling down below. He closed his eyes, and grunted passionately, letting himself go. "Oh my God," she sighed, running her hands along his back, pulling him into her. He attempted to roll off, for fear of crushing her, but she wouldn't let him go. "Not yet," she gasped, "Don't go yet." He stayed where he was, sweat glistening on his body, still inside her, completely fufilled but spent. He propped his elbows on either side of her shoulders and gazed down at her. "You are one beautiful woman," he breathed, gently brushing a blonde lock from her eyes. She laughed a bit before letting him up. The limo suddenly slowed and turned to the left. "We're here," the driver's voice crackled over the intercom. Justin's face panicked and he jumped up, searching frantically for his boxers. Katlyn pulled her pants back on, and reached underneath her, producing what he was looking for. "Calm down," she scolded him. "It's okay." Justin's head was still buzzing and his confidence waivered. Suddenly, he wasn't sure it was okay. He'd had sex with his Lance's girlfriend before he'd had a chance to. The enormity of the situation smacked him harshly in the face, and he took several deep breaths to settle his nerves. Katlyn slid over next to him and touched his cheek softly, running her finger down to his chin, then over his lips. "Justin, it just happened. It's our secret. I still love Lance, that hasn't changed. It's not right, but it's okay. What's done is done." The words flowed so definate from her lips, but inside she was shaking. True, it had felt completely amazing to be with Justin, but her love for Lance was what she desired, and the truth was, if he ever found out what they'd done, she would be yesterday's news. No matter what, it had to stay quiet. The driver opened the door, and Justin climbed out eagerly. Katlyn pulled a brush from her bag, and ran it through her hair quickly. "Justin, do I look okay?" she asked, dabbing at her lips with a tissue. She was sure her lipstick had been smeared off by the intensity of his kisses, and debated whether to re-apply it or not. Justin poked his head back in, and smiled half heartedly at her, sadly still intoxicated with her beauty, now even more so with that obvious post sex after glow fanning across her cheeks. "You're shirt, it's ah, crooked." She looked down and cursed, turning her back to him. "Can you tie it up, like Lance had it? Triple tied I think." Her hands shook as she plucked her compact from her bag and applied more lipstick. She felt Justin's body enter the limo once more, and sighed as he touched her back, re-tying the strings. His fingers were cool, and her stomach fluttered at the memory of what they had just done. She felt him tremble as he connected with her skin. Justin closed his eyes, pushing the feel of her away. His cell phone jingled in his pocket and he reached for it, stepping out of the limo once again. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice tiny and unsure. "Dude, we're ready to go. Did you send the limo back?" It was JC, and thank God he seemed in a cheery mood. He would truly freak out if he ever found out what happened. Justin bit on his thumb and walked a few steps toward the hotel. "It's on it's way. Sorry about that." He heard Katlyn get out and approach, her heels clicking on the pavement. JC laughed at something Joey said, then returned his attention to his younger friend. "Everything okay? I mean you left pretty quickly, we were kind of worried." "Yeah, yeah, I just brought Kate home and yeah, it's all good. Limo's on it's way. I'm gonna go crash." Justin waited for JC to say his goodbye and clicked his phone off, shoving it back in his jeans. Grabbing her elbow, he hurried for the lobby. "We okay?" he asked her, concerned that things would get out of hand now that they had done something that couldn't be changed. She had a glassy look in her eyes, as if her mind was unable to register with what her body had done. "I hope so," she sighed, loosing herself in his face, so tender and sweet. "I think so," she changed her answer. "Come on," Reaching for his hand, she lead him to the elevators, still thinking about what would happen if Lance did find out. The consequences would be, well, they would be enormous. Once inside, the steel doors snapped shut, and she leaned back against the wall, steadying herself. Justin tapped his fingers against his leg, and watched her. "Lance can't know," he explained. "I mean it. Never. Not in the heat of a fight, not ever, okay?" Her eyes flew open, an annoyed look in them. "Duh! Like I didn't know that. Of course he can't know." "I just meant, things in the group, they wouldn't work if it got out, that's all." His eyes held a sadness, a regret for what he'd done. Lance was his closest friend, and no matter which way he sliced it, he'd done something completely out of line. The drunkeness was fading, and the true light of the situation was dawning upon them both. Silence filled the car, and he stared at the numbers, praying for them to hurry. "I'm not sorry," he admitted quietly. "I mean that we did that. I know I should be, but I'd do it again." Her arms wrapped around his waist. "Acually, I feel the same," she whispered. "I don't want to loose you as my friend, though. I'd go nuts without you to vent on. You're the only one on this insane tour who makes any sense to me. I didn't mean to snap. I stand to loose just as much as you if we tell anyone." He touched her hands, and kissed the top of her head. "Yeah," he admitted, "you do." The doors parted, and they stepped out carefully, fearful that Lance would be there. "See you in the morning," he said gently, giving her hand a sqeeze. She strolled down to her room, the one she shared with her boyfriend, and nodded back at Justin. Her card slipped in the door, and she stepped into the darkness. No lights were on, no computer. Sighing, she knew he was still mad at her. Only when he was displeased did he leave her in total darkness. Reaching out with her hand, she felt the bathroom door to her left and pushed it open, flipping on the light. The mirror was facing her, and she studied herself in it. What made a person cheat? She'd never been the type. She loved Lance, or so she thought. Peeling off her clothes, she sniffled, the after scent of cigarettes from the club strong on her. Even if he wasn't making love to her, she should have waited, right? Justin was not that impossible to deny, no one should have been when she had Lance. But he didn't want her, that was a fact. She started the shower and thought about it. When was the last time he'd made the first move on her, a touch, a caress, anything? She just didn't remember and that was a devestating thought. Steam quickly gathered in the small room, and she ran her hand under the spray of water to check it. Once satisfied that it was the right temperature, she climbed in and stood under it, confused and feeling very alone. "Dammit," she cried, reaching for her shampoo, "Dammit to hell." She couldn't take back what had happened in the limo, and while her body felt completely fufilled from that wonderful feeling Justin had given her, her heart felt so guilty. A cool breeze made her freeze. "Lance?" she called out, wiping the suds from her eyes. "It's me," he called back, pulling the white shower curtain back. "You have fun?" She focused on him, standing there, sleep still prominant in his eyes, his normally spiky hair now flat from the pillow crushing it down. He had on the taz boxers she had bought him, and looked so sweet, so innocent standing there. "It was okay," she lied, rubbing her loofah over her body. "Same old stuff." "Is everyone back?" he asked, trying to smooth things over and bait her into conversation, one that wouldn't lead to a fight. He'd returned to the hotel, deep in thought and frustration over her, over how he treated her in general. A call to his sister revealed that he was indeed a horse's ass, as she'd so rawly put it, and she recommended he beg her forgiveness and return to the nice guy he used to be. Katlyn gazed at him, and her heart swelled with love for him. It wasn't fair, that they loved one another like they did, but just could not connect any longer. "I love you," she spoke softly, rinsing the soap from her body. "Can you get me a towel?" Lance grinned and reached for one, wrapping it tenderly around her. "You love me?" he questioned. "Why? I'm an asshole to you." He lifted her from the tub, and enclosed her in his arms. "I don't deserve you at all." She pressed her lips to his neck, eager to wash Justin's memory away, and replace it with Lance, his smell, his feel, eveything. She wanted to get drunk on him, and have him hold her. "We need to start this thing all over," she demanded lightly. "Just pretend the last two months didn't happen." Lance rubbed the towel over her body, feeling the closeness return between them. "I'm just so sorry." He dropped the towel and pulled her close, wanting to make things right with them so desperately. She froze, realizing he wanted more than just a hug. She could feel what he wanted beneath his boxers and backed off a bit. Laughing nervously, she moved to the sink, grabbing her bathrobe from the back of the door, covering her nakedness with it. "Let me at least brush my teeth," she asked, leaning over the sink with toothpaste in hand. He stood behind her, his hands pulling the bathrobe open, his lips on her neck. "Brush quick," he teased, running his fingers lightly across her skin. She tensed up immediately, visions of Justin flashing in her head. Not only was this unexpected behavior from him, but tonight of all nights he decided to make up with her? Unbelivable. She couldn't do anything with him now, with the feel of Justin's hands still on her. "Lance," she started, pushing his hands away. "It's late, baby. I'm beat. We'll talk in the morning." She disentagled herself from him, ignoring the frown on his face, and moving back into the darkness of the bedroom. She searched quickly for clean panties, and Lance's old Mississippi tee shirt, the one she begged him to have, and crawled under the covers. Soon, he was next to her, wrapping his body around hers, his breath hot on the back of her neck. "Katlyn," he mumered in her ear. "I'm ready, to be with you. I want you. I want us to make love." His words died in her ears, and her chest tightened. Why now? Why not earlier today and this whole thing would never have happend. A sob caught in her throat, and her lips pressed together. If only she had waited, if only she had left with him, then maybe this could have been the night she dreamed of for so long. Hesitantly, she rolled over into his arms. "We can't," she said, the words small and stupid coming from her lips. In the shadows, she could see his face contort with hurt, and confusion. Not at all what he expected. For so long, she had persued him to make love, and now, here he was, declaring it was time, and she was saying no? His mind buzzed, and his body burned with insanity. What did she want from him? He just didn't know. Slowly, he sat up in the bed, pulled his knees up to his chest, and tried to find some logic in her words. "Why can't we?" he muttered, tilting his head to face her. Tears spilled carefully from her eyes, and she felt like a bomb had just dropped on her. "Things need to be right with us, good. We need to talk things out, understand each other. Sex is going to make things seem like they're okay, when they're not." Hippocritical words from the queen of hyprocisy herself. Angrily, he jumped from the bed, pacing about. She sat up, and watched him, knowing he was hurt. He spun on his heels and pounced onto her side of the matress. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he hissed, grabbing her shoulders roughly. "Huh? Do you exist to confuse the shit out of me?" "Get off me," she demanded, pushing him. He wouldn't budge, his legs straddled hers, pinning her beneath the covers. "Lance, please." She could see the rage in his eyes, the cool shade of green blazing it's trail into her. Almost like he knew something he shouldn't. He glared into her, something amiss, but what. This was not a girl who said no to him. She begged for him to be with her, complained that she needed him, and now, was refusing it? No indeed, something wasn't right at all. "So, then you explain why you don't want to make love," he cried, his deep voice strained with confusion. "Tell me!" he screamed, shoving her back. Katyln shivered uncontrollably under his hurtful touch, and her hands pressed against his chest, begging him to stay where he was. "I can't right now," she sobbed. "It's not right." Her legs wiggled around under him, trying to find some escape. This was a side of him that she had never witnessed, and it was chilling her to the bone. "Lance let me go, now!" she pleaded. He clenched his fists in the bedspread, his teeth mashing together. It was painfully obvious that something happened on that ride home with Justin. He'd been watching out his hotel window, ten stories up, and seen his friend climb out, nervous as new mother. Then he climbed back in for some reason, but the look on their faces, guilt? Glows? Whatever it was, he'd known something was up. So, he'd turned out the lights and gotten into bed, waiting to see what she did. When she got into the shower, his doubts grew, now, rejecting his offer of making love, it seemed to confirm his suspicions. He didn't believe that Justin would fuck him over, or her for that matter, but nothing seemed right. "Tell me what happened tonight!" he growled, holding his place over her. In his mind, he prayed that she would giggled and tell him that nothing had happened. She sucked at lying, and he would be able to tell as soon as the words left her mouth. "Go on, what happened when I left the club?" Katlyn sank back into the bed, frightened that he had found out, but how? No, he didn't know anything, he was just upset about being refused. Shaking her head, she blinked the tears from her eyes. "I don't know what you mean," she said. "When you left? I danced. What do you think happened?" Lance felt like any sanity he had was being ripped from his body, the pain of her words pierced him. Whatever he felt, his gut was telling him that Justin and his woman had gotten it on, in some way, in that limo. Now, he would find out what. Jumping off her, he flew out of the room and down the hall, slamming into Joey and some strange girl. "Lance, what the hell?" Joey took one look at Lance in his boxers, face flushed and eyes full of hatred, and sensed trouble. "Why didn't you come home with Kate? What the fuck is going on? Do you know?" Lance stared at Joey hard. "Joey, please." Joey stood there, taken back by this outburst. He'd seen Justin and Katlyn leave, but they were friends, and saw nothing wrong with it. Now, by the look of anger on Lance's usually easy going face, he guessed he'd missed something. His buzz was still going strong, as was his lust for the woman on his arm, and dealing with a situation of this magnitude was not what he was looking for. Shrugging non commitally, he moved past Lance briskly. "They left together, that's all I know." He watched from the corner of his eye as Lance hurried to Justin's door, pounding furiously on it, but not saying a word. Justin opened the door, cell phone in hand. He saw Lance and a very pissed off look, and moved aside to let him in. Lance took one look at his friend, a distinctly pleased look on his face, and shoved him. "Talking to your girlfriend?" he fumed. "Whispering how much she fucking means to you?" "Lance ,what the hell are you talking about?" he asked quizzically, returning to his conversation. "I don't know, he's screaming. I gotta go. I'll call you later. Love you too." Lance crossed his arms over his chest and snorted. "You love her too, oh how sweet? Did you mention that you got it on with my girlfriend? Didn't tell her that did you?" Justin's face dropped giving Lance the answer he desperately dreaded. "Fucking A," he grimaced, "You two did do something." "Lance, I don't know what she said, but...." Justin's voice was lost as Lance charged him, knocking him to the floor, landing a fist square in his jaw. Katlyn rushed into the room, dragging a panicked JC behind her. "Oh my God!" she screamed, watching in horror as the two singers struggled on the floor. Lance was poised ontop of Justin, pure rage consuming his frame. Justin grunted underneath him, desperately squirming to get him off. Lance tumbled to the side, and Justin was on him, restraining his arms. "Calm the fuck down," he screamed. JC ran to them, and pulled Justin up. "What the hell is going on?" he asked, pushing Justin to the bed, and grabbing Lance as he got up and attempted another shot at the 19 year old. "Lance, Justin, stop!" JC screamed. Katlyn slumped to the floor, JC's girlfriend hurrying to her side. "Tell them Justin, tell them all what you did, you piece of shit!" Lance's jaw was clenched and his body was hot with anger. "Tell them!" Justin sank to the floor, his deep blue eyes brimming with tears. He rubbed his jaw, tender from Lance's fists of fury, and gazed at Katlyn. She looked back at him, and shook her head no, as if to send him the message that she hadn't told him anything, yet. Lance watched the exchange in frustration. "Hello? Do you think I don't see you two?" JC stood in front of Lance, keeping him at bay. "Guys, what's he yelling about? Did you two do something to make him like this?" All the time JC had known Lance, he'd never seen him so much as kill a fly, let alone get into a fight. JC's girlfriend helped Katlyn to her feet. "I'm taking her to our room. She's freaked out." The three guys tried to protest, but she ignored them, guiding the hysterical girl out of Justin's room. JC sank onto the bed, and glared at Justin. "Dude, better come clean, now." He had witnessed the body shots, and the passionate way Justin had defended Katlyn on the dance floor. But the idea that he would risk the groups's harmony, Lance's friendship, and his own relationship was ludicrous. Justin was a lot of things, but not a scum bag, at least he hoped not. Lance ran his fingers through his hair, when really he just wanted to rip it out. Then he wanted to rip the pretty boy apart, curls and all. This was not right, and if JC took his side, he would freak out. He stood at the window, peering down at the street, where just an hour earlier, he'd seen them get out of the limo together. Tears burned his eyes and he pursed his lips, refusing to give any of them a show. "Justin, did you and Katlyn do anything?" He heard JC ask the question, not ready to hear the answer. "I don't know what you guys are talking about," Justin lied, feeling like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. "Lance is flipping out and it's probably because he won't fuck his own girlfriend, so he needs to deal with his own issues, not take them out on me." As soon as the words were spilled, he regretted them. JC looked at Lance, who had turned to hear the hurtful words. How could Katlyn have told Justin something so intimate? His cheeks burned brightly, and he leaned toward Justin once more, pointing an accusing finger in his face. "Did you do it for me?" he boiled over, seeing the glimmer confirmation in Justin's eyes. "You son of a bitch," he mumbled, then jumped ontop of him , getting one last suckerpunch in before JC grabbed him once again. Justin glared at Lance, sizing him up. "Yeah, I did. She needed a real man to step up, and I did. You fucked up, man. It's your fault. You couldn't get it up for her, so I did." JC and Lance both stared at him, a mixture of disgust and shock flying his way. Angry, Justin shook his head. "Just get out, get out of my room." He watched as JC escorted Lance from the room, defeated, and he heard the door click shut. Kicking wildly at the wall, he cursed, pissed at himself for breaking down and admitting it. Now he was sure that the shit would hit the fan, and nothing would ever be the same. |
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