| It had been nearly a week since the incident between Justin and Katlyn, a week of hell. Fights were a daily occurance among them, and the tour bus seemed to grow smaller with each passing hour. "Turn the fucking radio down!" Lance screamed from the back of the bus, trying to work on a screenplay he had started. The music boomed two notches louder, and Lance jumped up, tossing his laptop aside, storming from the back room. He flew down the aisle toward the noise and caught Justin by surprise. "I said, turn it down!" Justin grinned sarcastically at him, and said nothing, infuriating Lance even more. "Justin, if you don't turn this thing down, I'm throwing it out the window, I swear to you!" His green eyes were on fire, hate and contempt blazing in them. JC laid in his bunk, his eyes closed, wishing this would just stop already. Katlyn had gone home, and for all intents and purposes, broken it off with Lance. He rolled over and sighed. Since Justin's little admission, tensions were at an astronomically high pitch, and the group was divided right down to him. Joey had taken Lance's side, while Chris defended Justin's actions. He was the only one staying in the middle. The screaming was getting louder, and now Chris and Joey were getting involved. Frustrated, he climbed out of his bunk and headed in the direction of the fight. "You know, it's his bus too. If he wants to listen to tunes, he can." Chris was right in Lance's face, defending Justin. Joey pushed him aside. "That's why they make headphones," he retorted, tossing a pair at Justin. "Use them!" JC blew a stream of air from his lungs and tilted his head. "Guys, come on, stop." The four of them turned to look at him, then continued to bicker. "You're a pain in my ass," Lance seethed, glaring at Chris. "Why the hell are you sticking up for him? He fucked my girlfriend." Chris rolled his eyes. "You suckerpunched him, Lance. You hit him over some whore." Lance's cheeks turned bright red, and his fists clenched. JC jumped over, standing inbetween them. "Oh no. No more fist fights. Chris, you apologize now!" Chris smiled innocently. "For what? Telling it like it is?" Justin laughed, throwing the headphones back at Joey. "I'm out of here," he said, getting up and pushing past Lance. "You better chill the fuck out, man. Seriously." Lance growled, reaching for him. Joey helped hold him and Chris followed Justin to the back of the bus. "I'm going to kill him," Lance muttered, relaxing slightly and shrugging JC's hands off him. He slumped down onto the bench running along the left side of the bus and closed his eyes. "Am I crazy? Did I do something wrong here?" Joey shook his head, popping a piece of gum into his mouth. "They're assholes. Justin screws up, and Chris defends him. It makes no sense. JC? Does it make sense?" Lance's eyes peeked open, praying that he would take his side. After all, he was the one who'd lost his girlfriend due to Justin's horny nature. When he found out, he'd wanted to call Justin's grilfriend and tell her the whole story, but Joey had convinced him that two wrongs never made a right, and why hurt her just because he was hurt. JC stayed quiet, playing with the button on his shirt. "I'm not getting in the middle," he explained. "I can't. I don't condone what either of you did, although I understand both sides." Lance groaned, having heard the same thing all week. His head hurt, his body ached, and he couldn't focus on anything. He had the misfortune of missing Katlyn while hating her for sleeping with his friend and the two emotions made him sick. Night after night, he played nice with Justin, acting his heart out on stage, pretending to be one big happy family. Once, during It Makes Me Ill, he'd tipped the gurney that Justin laid on over, causing an "accidental" spill of the 19 year old singer to the stage floor. Joey had actually lost it, laughing, and Chris elbowed him hard, causing another fight later on. Justin had laid into Lance post show, screaming expletives at him, some caught by fans wearing backstage passes. JC had reprimanded them both when the little scene popped up on a web site. The phone rang, and Joey leaned over to pick it up. "Yeah?" he asked. "Hold on. Lance for you." Lance sat up, his shoulders slumped. "What?" he snapped, in no mood for anything or anyone. "Fine, deliever it to the next hotel." Joey and JC stared at him. "Package, for me. Urgent or some shit." He stood up and retired to his bunk, laying down and covering his eyes with his forearm. His mind wandered back to Katlyn, and his stomach rolled imagining her with Justin. One week and the pain still hadn't subsided. He knew that he'd not been perfect in the relationship, but God, you would think that they could communicate instead of this. And of all the people in the world, why Justin. The questions never stopped presenting in his mind, and it was driving him crazy. He rolled onto his stomach and bit his lip to keep from crying. Of course, there had been tears at first, angry ones, betrayed ones. Now they were just hurt tears. He missed her, there was so much he wanted to say. There was no chance he would take her back, but he still needed some kind of closure to move on. As for Justin, he didn't think that they would ever move on, any trust or friendship they once had was gone. He hadn't really even apologized, just said Lance was a jerk for not taking care of Kate like he should have. The tears plopped onto his pillow and he squeezed the bridge of his nose, willing them to stop. Tossing a pillow over his head, he scrunched down deeper into his bunk and tried to focus on the lull of the bus, and his deep breaths, and finally drifted off into sleep. Later that night, Lance sat in the lobby with Joey, reading over some press, when an N Sync security guard mosied over with a huge box. "For you, man," he said, placing it down next to him. Lance stared at the bright red letters on it, URGENT. Joey shrugged. "Open it, see what it is." He pulled at the tape, and out of the corner of his eye, spotted Justin and Chris watching him. "Go away!" he shouted at them, annoyed when they laughed and continued to stand there. Trying to ignore them, he carefully opened the box and dug inside. "What the hell?" He pulled out his Mississippi tee shirt, the one he'd given Katlyn, along with several items of his that she had possessed. "Shit," he hissed, looking through the stuff. "What is it all?" Joey asked, peering inside and lifting out some CD's. "Katlyn," he answered. "Stuff of mine she had." He fingered the shirt sadly, lifting it to his face. It still smelled like her, so warm and comforting. He faced the fact that he screwed up as well, not treating her the way she deserved to be treated. Maybe he'd pushed her right into Justin's arms. Joey handed him an envelope addressed to him. Lance took it and his chin quivered. He felt Justin and Chris still staring at him, so he flashed his middle finger at them, and stood up, moving outside to the deserted pool area. He collapsed into a deck chair and traced her handwriting with his finger. Tearing the envelope open, he pulled out the note, unsure if he really wanted to read it. He looked away, then curiousity gained the better of him, and he began to read. Lance, If you want to know why I cheated, look in the mirror. It was you, it was me, it was us. We both caused this. You didn't want me, and I didn't know how to handle that. All I wanted was for you to love me, and I don't just mean making love, I mean real love. You didn't, even though you said you did. I could tell. Whatever we had at the start of our relationship had gone and left us with nothing. If things had been right with us, Justin and I wouldn't have slept together, I know this now. It was wrong, I'll admit, to do this behind your back, even to do it with your friend, but it was bound to happen. Now, you can wait for marriage, which by the way, I never bought for a minute, or wait for some other girl. Whatever. I'm sending your stuff back so I don't have to see you again. Not that I don't want to, but it's too hard. I'd have to face what I've done to you, and see the hurt in your eyes, and I'm not that strong. I don't know why we were together, but I'm sure there was a reason. Whatever it was, I'm glad I got to know you. Make up with Justin. It wasn't his fault entirely. He's a good guy, and he made a mistake like we all did. Maybe someday, we can talk again, and put this all behind us. I don't want you to hurt anymore, so don't even think about it. It's over, and you go on. Good luck. Love, Katlyn Lance stared at the letter, and reread it. "What the hell?" It made no sense to him. Any closure he was hoping for was history. This was not what he expected. "Look in the mirror?" he grumbled, "Sure, it was my fault. Great! Just great!" To his dismay, he wanted to see her again, call her and get her out here to him, maybe try again. "Fuck," he said through gritted teeth. Jumping up, he pocketed her letter and stormed through the lobby, brushing past Justin and Chris who were still there, acting like idiots, and hurried to his room. He grabbed the phone and called her impulsively. Her machine clicked on and he cleared his throat, wondering what to say. Deciding against it, he hung up, tossing himself back on the bed. "Dammit!" he screamed, slamming his fist on the bedspread. The knock at his door was so faint, it almost didn't exsist. He got up and opened it slowly. Justin stood there, two beers in his hands. "Here," he said, thrusting one at Lance and pushing his way into his room. "Get out," Lance seethed. "I'm so serious, man. Take your beer and your fucking golden boy attitude and get out!" Justin plopped down on the couch and sighed. "Sit down and relax." He snapped off the top of his beer and took a long sip, burping after wards. "We need to talk." Lance eyed him, holding back a sarcastic comment. Instead, he opened his beer and sat on the edge of his bed. "Talk then," he demanded. Justin leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Dude, I am sorry. Really. I know I did wrong." His blue eyes were honest, and he took another sip of his beer. "I never said that to you. I never did." "So why now?" Lance asked, trying to figure him out. "After a week." Justin shook his head. "Don't know. JC mostly. Lance, we've been friends for years. I had no right to do what I did. None. And I felt like an ass, and I didn't know how to make it up to you." "Justin, I don't trust you. I don't. You had sex with my girlfriend. Do you comprehend that? I hadn't even had sex with her, and you did." His temper was starting to flare again, and the words flew from his lips. "Her and I had problems that had nothing to do with you, and maybe we wouldn't have worked it out anyway," he admitted, "But we'll never know. You took something from me and I can't get it back." Justin stared at the carpet letting the words sink in. He felt ashamed, and so guilty. For the past week, he'd put walls up, reasoning that he'd done nothing wrong, letting Chris defend him even though his heart knew he'd done wrong. "Man, I just don't know what to say. I'm sorry." "I don't know if that's good enough," Lance said quietly, laying back on his bed. "I just don't know." The phone rang, and he reached over to get it. "Hello?" he asked, feeling defeated. "Kate? Yeah, I did call." He sat up quickly, putting his beer down on the nightstand. "I want to see you. Can you meet me? I got your package and I really need to talk to you." Justin shook his head and stood up. "Fuck that," he muttered under his breath, walking out of Lance's room. Why would he want to see her again? What good would that do? If she showed herself again, it would just cause all sorts of problems. Really, he was scared that his own girlfriend would find out and dump him. He couldn't take any chances, so he rushed to his room to make sure his secret was safe. |
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