| Lance sat unmoving on the couch in the tour bus, staring at the charges. Emotional and physical abuse. She was asking for over a million dollars in pain and suffering. How could this be happening? He never thought her the type to do something of this magnitude. Phone calls were futile, she refused them. He shrank under the condeming eyes of JC, the worried looks from Joey, the pity from Chris and the distance from Justin. How could they even consider not being on his side? They were brothers, like blood, and here he was defending himself to them. It was insane. Joey sat next to him, handing him a drink. "Screwdriver," he said, leaning over to look at the papers. It had been two days since he'd had the misfortune of handing them over to him, and the stress was taking it's toll on them all, but especially his young friend. "Lance, man, I don't think anyone truly thinks you beat the girl. JC, he's just, fuck. You know how he is with bad press. He..." "Joey, you don't need to defend him. It's not your place to be peacemaker." Lance closed his eyes, sipping at the strong concoction, glad that Joey had brought it to him. "I just want to make it very clear that I did not hit her, never. I was upset when she slept with J, but that's it." The bus lurched to the side, suddenly, causing Lance to spill his drink. "Dammit to fucking shit!" he screamed. Justin poked his head into the back room. "Was that out of your mouth?" he asked, shock filling his voice. "You okay?" Lance frowned, storming from the room to clean up. The drink had saturated his jeans, and his favorite sweatshirt, but the sad thing was he was only pissed that precious alcohol had been lost. He didn't know how to make a screwdriver, so he settled on the bottle of vodka, taking it to his bunk. He sat there, scrunched up, and sipped it slowly, unused to the feel of straight liquor in his throat. It burned, stinging him as it slid down to his stomach. It numbed him a little more with each sip. Anger consumed him. Normally a very easy going person, he'd turned into some kind of monster inside himself, hating each day, hating each moment. There was nothing sane going on. He'd met Katlyn, thought he was in love, she cheated, now he was being falsely accused of abuse. The very idea of this getting out into the press was impossible, and a team of experts was busily preparing to defend the singer. "Lance, can we talk?" Justin's voice was on the other end of his bunk's curtain, and Lance cautiously pulled it back. "What?" he snapped, still angry with Justin. Truth was, he blamed the entire mess on his so called friend. If he'd only kept his dick in his pants, well, they wouldn't be in the situation they were in. "I'm gonna say it again. I am really sorry." His eyes filled with tears, and he was sorry, and hurt. After coming clean with his own girlfriend, she dumped him, but not before laying into him for nearly an hour. Let's see, the words went something like selfish bastard, egotistical maniac, slut, asshole. For being known as the queen of teen, she used some very unteenlike words. They'd cut him right to the bone, and he cried like a baby, begging her forgiveness. There had been none, however, and he was miserable with the knowlegde of what he'd done. "Lance?" "I know," Lance said, handing him the bottle. He watched as Justin took a long sip, making a face as the numbing agent made it's way down his throat. "Stong huh?" Justin nodded, wiping a tear away. "I want to help you out, man. Whatever I can do." His hands rubbed over his face and he eyed Lance directly, letting him know how serious and true he was being. "What I did was fucked up, and I would never wish that hurt on anyone." Lance stared at him. Suddenly, Justin looked as lost and alone as he did and he wanted to forgive him. "Any idea why Kate would do this?" He searched for answers in everyone, every passing thing. It made no sense to him. He thought he knew her, could trust her. Now, it seemed as if it was all a carefully orchestrated facade. Justin shook his head, stealing another sip from the bottle. "It took me by surprise as well. I was pissed because I thought you were going to forgive her and not me. If I'd known what she was planning, I'd of told you, for real." "Well, we have to figure out some way to get out of this. If she goes to press, God, Justin. Do you even know what might happen here?" Lance's shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his temples. There was constant pain in his mind, and he was fearing it would never stop. His cell phone rang, and he clicked it open, seeing his parent's number appear on the screen. "Shit," he groaned, showing Justin the number. Justin lowered his head and backed out of the bunk. Mr and Mrs Bass had been like second parents to him. He knew how much they meant to Lance, how much what they thought of their son meant to him. It was important that he always convey the right image out and about, because he was a Bass and that meant something to him. Now Justin himself had a hand in tarnishing the name, and depression filled his heart. He slunk back to his own bunk and decided to cry some more. "Hey," Lance said, as cheerfully as he could. "Lance. It's me." Lance froze as he recognized Katlyn's voice. Confusion entered his mind, and he sat up a bit straighter, wondering what the hell was going on now. |
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