Adjusting

Sometimes he didn't know why he wanted this so much. It was December; was he in D.C. celebrating the holidays? No. He was in some hotel, he couldn't remember the name of, staring at some over decorated tree as his band mates concentrated on their loved ones. JC watched the others from beneath lowered lids. He stood quietly, hoping to escape without drawing attention to himself.

No such luck.

"Jacye," called Chris. Dani pushed back against Chris but didn't wake up. JC paused in the doorway, shifting beneath the steady looks from Lance and Joey. Justin hadn't looked away from Britney. Kelly and Jesse glanced up and away. "Where you going?"

"Tired," he said, easing open the door. "I think I'm gonna head to bed."

"It's Christmas, Jayce. You sure you can't stay up a little longer?"

"Yeah, that last round of interviews and parties wore me out." JC faked a yawn, hoping it would convince the others. He gave a sigh of relief when Chris nodded. Slipping out before the others could say anything.

Back in his own, room he headed for the bathroom. Rummaging through the cabinet until he'd found the aspirin. Popping three in his mouth, as he started a bath.

He stripped, slipping into the rising water. As the heat loosened muscles that had been tense for months, he sighed. Thinking back to the room he'd just left, he called himself all kinds of fool. How he could have thought Justin's behavior at the Billboard after party meant anything? Dropping his head back on the rim of the tub, he silently berated himself. He should have known better. Justin had as usual reacted without thought to seeing another guy talking to him. The fact that it was Eminem, probably hadn't even registered with his ex. It didn't mean anything. Obviously, since Justin was even now curled around Ms. Spears.

Letting the warm water soothe him, he ignored the slow slide of tears as the realization that Justin really didn't want him anymore hit all over again.

---

Pissed didn't even begin to describe Em. He couldn't believe he was at this thing. Dre, that motherfucker, had insisted. He wasn't gonna argue 'bout it wit Dre though. Not over something so simple. He just fucking hated these things; they were such shit. The only good thing about it was the open bar. He'd planted himself on a stool with a stubborn sullenness that warned a motherfucka to stay the fuck clear.

He was working on his third drink when he spotted one of the divas. Wearing some faggoty sparkling shit, Em swore even Elton wouldn't wear. Restless and having nothing better to do he shoved away from the bar. Fucking with Chasez would pass the time. He slunk across the room, not in any particular hurry. Before he could reach the kid, someone broke away from a group of rockers and got to there first. Not wanting to be seen talking to a boy-bander, he slumped against the wall a few feet away. He'd wait until the guy had moved on. Sipping at his vodka, he idly listened in on the conversation.

JC eyed the approaching man surprised Scott Stapp, Creed's front man, had sought him out.

"Hey, JC. Right?" said Scott. JC nodded, pleased the man knew who he was.

"I would say I was sorry about your loss," grinned Scott.

"But then you'd be lying," JC snorted. He wasn't exactly all that broken up about it. The fans had named them Favorite Artist of the Year. That was nothing to sneer at.

"I think you did pretty good for your first time. Have you thought of doing any more collaborating?"

JC blushed at the praise, unconsciously preening. "Thanks. It was great, a lotta work but fun. I nearly worried myself sick over actually releasing it. More collaborating, oh that would be cool. But the guys weren't planning on it."

Scott nodded, in understanding. "It never gets any easier. Actually, I was wonder if you wanted to do something with me?"

JC blinked. He hadn't heard that right? Had he? Creed's Scott Stapp wanted to work with him? JC's entire face lit up with pleasure. Blue eyes gleaming with pride. A smile spread across the wide lips.

Marshall watched as JC literally bounced. He was cute. Em choked on his vodka as the thought registered. There was no fucking way he'd just thought the pretty boy was cute. He glanced down at the drink in his hand, then dumped it in the potted plant beside him. No more liquor tonight. He glanced back over to the pair, eyes involuntarily drawn to Chasez. The kid looked like the rocker had made his day. He remembered that feeling. The surge of validation that had come when Dre. Fucking Dr. Dre had liked his shit. Maybe Chasez really was serious about his shit.

A stir on the far side of the room, drew Em's attention. He rolled his eyes at the sight of Timberfuck headed in their direction. Now, there was a diva. Fucking punk couldn't go five minutes without being the center of attention. He watched the trio as Timberfuck inserted himself into the conversation. He frowned as the kid tensed. Arms crossing, hands slid between his upper arms and body. The glow, Em sneered at the thought but that was all it could be called, dying out. The sullen look from a month ago returned. A tiny thought niggled at the back of his thoughts.

JC stiffened, as he spotted Justin. The younger man's eyes were icy with anger. He knew Justin was pissed they hadn't won. Not one of the categories they'd been nominated for. He'd tried explaining that type of validation was worthless. But Justin had never seemed to get it.

He watched warily as Justin smiled, the one reserved for the media, and held out his hand. "Congrats on the win."

Scott grinned, shaking the hand. "Thanks. I was just telling JC how much I liked what he'd done."

"Oh really," said Justin. Eyes darting between the two. JC forced himself to relax as Justin moved closer.

"Yeah, was hoping we could maybe do something together sometime."

Justin sighed, as he glanced skyward. He appeared to be deep in thought. After a moment he shook his head sadly, as he meet Scott's gaze. "Man, I bet Jayce would love that. It's too bad everything's so hectic now. It'll be months before we get any downtime."

JC froze as Justin slung one arm over his shoulders. "And Jayce here is all ready juggling so many things. He'd probably have a nervous breakdown if he tried adding solo collaboration to it. Right?" he asked, head tipping toward JC as if to confirm what he'd just said. JC took in the narrowed gaze. The slight clenching of Justin's jaw. Remembered the argument Justin'd had with Brit earlier.

"Right," he murmured. "Too many things. So little time."

Scott sighed, "I know how that is." He glanced up as Mark yelled for him. "Keep it in mind though," he said, walking away.

Em's gaze narrowed as he watched Timberlake crowd the kid. Unbelieving about what he'd just seen. Timberlake had just deliberately shot down the kid's chance to make a name for himself outside the group. An opportunity Chasez had obviously wanted. Em wondered why Chasez hadn't told the Diva to just fuck off. He would've. He moved closer, listening unabashedly to their conversation.

"So what was that," asked Timberfuck, ignoring Chasez's subtle attempt to squirm from beneath his arm. Em watched the kid shrug.

"Nothing, Justin. He just wanted to talk about the music."

"That it, JC? You sure about that?"

JC nodded. Justin tugged him closer.

Timberfuck's movements tugged at the edges of the kid's shirt. Marshall's eyes narrowed as he spotted the faintest hint of violet and blue against the curve of Chasez's throat. His frown deepened at the look on the kid's face. It was one he'd once seen in the mirror a million years ago. Once again he could almost hear another conversation beneath the spoken one.

Timberlake's head dipped until it was only inches away from Chasez's ear. Em gave up any pretense of not listening, and slunk closer.

"You wouldn't think of doing something outside the group would you Jayce? growled Justin, voice heavy with something. "That wouldn't be a good idea. We belong together. Your part of N'Sync. After what happened with Lou, that means it's us against them. You belong to...."

JC winced as Justin trailed off. He knew that tone, knew what he was implying. That greedy possessiveness. Justin felt threatened. Ever since they'd broke with Lou, he'd become increasingly territorial. N'Sync was N'Sync. Them and no one else. Especially him.

"I wouldn't leave N'Sync," soothed JC, reaching out to pet Justin. Unconsciously stroking the other man's shoulder. "N'Sync's all I have."

Justin straightened abruptly, bright grin back in place. "Good," he said. "Remember that." JC slumped in relief as Justin's bad mood seemed to pass. He returned the grin, half-heartedly. Ignoring the pain in his chest at Justin's words.

Em snarled beneath his breath. No fucking way had he just seen what he'd seen. His eyes followed the two boy-banders; Timberfuck disappearing into the crowd. Chasez over to the bar. He hadn't realy though they were actually faggots; especially with Timberfuck doing the Britney bitch. Em stayed where he was as he watched the kid take his newly acquired bottle of J.D. to a quiet corner.

This time the kid didn't even bother with the shot glass. He watched as Chasez discreetly eyed the crowd, and seemingly satisfied he wasn't being watched took it to the head. Em had to give him props. He'd slugged it back like a real one. Not even giving a sissy wince when he'd finished. So they were fucking faggots, Em snickered at the thought. What did he care. As long as they kept their pansy asses away from him, he couldn't give a fuck. Marshall turned away from the brooding kid, for all of five seconds. Then his gaze was drawn right back. There was something wrong with the whole thing.

It was going to eat at him until he figured it out. That was another reason he'd wanted to be like Shaft. Not only did he like mysteries, but they drove him bugshit until he'd figured them out. He could not stand not knowing everything once his interest had been peaked. All right, Em think about this. What is it about this that's fucking with you? He'd only seen the boy-banders twice. Scratch that he'd seen Chasez, then Timberfuck. In fact, it seemed like every time Chasez spoke with somebody, somebody male whispered a voice at the back of his head, Timberfuck showed.

Point number one, apparently Timberfuck was a jealous bitch, and possessive as fuck. No surprise there. He'd expect Timberfuck to act like some spoiled brat, shouting 'bout his toys. Em's gaze flicked over to Chasez, who was slumped in his corner. He noted the all ready half-empty bottle. That was what bothered him. Chasez didn't seem particularly happy about the situation.

Almost as if.... Marshall paused as he rolled that half-finished thought around his head. No way. He was blowing this shit up outta proportion. "Fuck this," he muttered, straightening. He'd just ask the little fag.

"Em," snapped Dre. Em paused, glancing over his shoulder to see Dre striding toward him. He looked back to Chasez, just in time to see Timberfuck dragging him off. Fuck that, he thought. Let the bitches deal with each other. He turned toward Dre. Dismissing Chasez from his thoughts.