Adjusting

Em watched the room; gaze tracking Chasez and Timberlake. Not that he had to look far to find Chasez. The kid had staked out a corner, and despite the abundant crowd managed to keep to himself. Oh, he smiled and did the good boy-bander bit but something in his eyes was just the slightest bit off. Even then people sought him out, drifting near and away in a constant flow. Like they couldn't help it. Timberlake was the exact opposite; the dick made himself the center of attention. Determinedly making sure every eye turned to him.

Em tossed back the shot of whiskey as ready as he'd ever be. It was time to end this shit once and for all. Part of him was still convinced this wasn't real. And he was going to prove it. If Timberfuck was even half the possessive bitch, Em thought he was he'd be on them in under three minutes.

JC quirked a brow at the approaching man. Why in the hell was Eminem seeking him out? He wouldn't just to gloat? Would he? JC snorted of course he would. This was just more proof that N'Sync was a joke.

The rapper came to a halt directly in front of him, and stared. JC couldn't help his reaction. "What the fuck do you want?"

Em grinned at the kid's question. He sounded like a little kid, trying to be hard when he cursed. As if he wasn't quite used to the words in his mouth.

JC sighed as Eminem only grinned. Apparently, he was a source of amusement to the rapper. Joy.

Em didn't bother to answer the kid. This wasn't about getting to know him. This was about testing a theory. Proving to himself he was a paranoid fuck. Except....

JC stiffened; it was almost second nature by now. Knowing when he'd caught Justin's attention. He looked away from Eminem, and sure enough Justin was heading in his direction. He stifled a moan, as a sudden throbbing started behind his right eye. He didn't need this shit. His gaze darted back to the rapper, and he frowned. The man looked half expectant, half disgusted. Like he was waiting for something.

Em bit back a curse as the kid's entire demeanor shifted. There go the hands he thought. Doesn't prove anything, he growled to himself a second later. That thought however only lasted until Justin came to a halt between them. Em glanced down at his watch. One minute thirty seconds on the nose.

JC sighed, tiredly. It was official this year was destined to be shit.

"Hey, man. Congrats on the win," said Justin, moving closer to him. JC could just strangle the rapper. Unknowingly or not he'd just set him up for a week of shit from his ex.

Damn. Piss on 'em why don't cha, thought Em. Fucking jealous little bitch ain't he? He repressed the urge to blast the little punk, ignoring the hand Justin held out to him. Instead, slowly lifted the drink he held to his mouth.

JC suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. He suddenly had a bad feeling about this. Even though he couldn't even guess what the blond rapper was up to. Still, he knew provoking Justin would not end well, for him at least.

Em glanced down at the extended hand in disgust. Fuck if he was gonna play nice with some abusive muthafucka. "Whatever," grunted Em, walking away.

He didn't even try to quiet the storm of thoughts in his head. Uppermost being a flood of curses and the raging urge to get drunk. 'Once again why do you give a fuck' muttered Slim. 'Let the fags kill each other.' So now you're the homophobe the press makes us out to be? You're gonna stand by and ignore it like when it was you; cause he's a fag. You should be so proud of yourself. You've finally become just like everyone else. For a moment there was silence in his head, as every person who'd ever turned their back on him flashed through his thoughts. He turned to look back at Chasez, who'd slunk further into the shadows. Then over to Timberfuck, arm wrapped around his bitch, grinning as he played the Golden Boy for the public. 'Fine. Help the kid,' thought Slim.

Em waited until Timberlake vanished with his bitch. Old habits kicked back in and he blended into the shadows as he slunk up on the kid. Certain no one was watching, he slid right up behind him. "I know I said you guys were fucking faggots, but damn I never actually thought you were fucking."

JC gave a startled yelp, spinning around to come face to face with Eminem. It took a minute for the words to register as his heart climbed out of his throat. When they did, it shot right back up there. "What," he choked out.

Em sighed as Chasez stared at him. He could see the kid was freaking out. 'Course he could have chosen a better opening statement. "Timberlake's an abusive muthafucker ain't he?"

Very subtle Slim, he thought as he watched the kid's eyes bug.

"What?! No! I," JC stuttered incoherently as Eminem's accusations rang through his head. He couldn't even come up with a valid denial.

Em knew the moment the kid decided to rabbit. It was there in his eyes. Dark blue ones that told everything. Seconds after Chasez had split, Em motioned one of his bodyguard's over. "Follow 'im. Let me know where he goes." The bodyguard nodded, and took off.

---

All JC could think to do was escape. Without another word, he took off. Almost running to Lance. He had no idea what he'd said but apparently it was enough to convince Lance. JC managed not to have a nervous breakdown in the limo.

Once he was at the hotel it was another story. He began a fast slide into full blown panic.

Fucking Eminem knew! Knew that he and Justin had been together. How the fuck had he found out? What was he gonna do about it? Why would he even confront him about it? Was he planning to blackmail him? Was he gonna kick his ass? Oh, god! Justin! If this got out... Justin would blame him. He knew it. There was no doubt. What the hell was he gonna do? God, he needed a drink.

JC stumbled across the room, yanking open the door to the mini-bar. Not even bothering to look at the labels; he downed the first two in quick succession. Before forcing himself to take a deep breath. Okay, look at this logically. Emimem world famous boy band hater, renowned homophobe knows you're gay. Or at least suspects. He was so gonna get his ass kicked. Or worse... What if he told someone? The tabloids. Oh, god! This would ruin the group. He could see it now. His parents, he'd never told them. He'd always been to scared too. As much as he loved them, as much as he knew they loved him. He wasn't their's and that always lurked in his thoughts. Oh god, he'd be disowned. Yanking the tops off another pair of bottles, he knocked those back. Justin was going to kill him. 'Cause sure as shit, he knew this was somehow his fault. He wondered idly if there was an oven he could stick his head into nearby.

JC dropped to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He fought the urge to hurl as the panic raged. This was the end. Somehow he'd ruined everything. The label would drop them. The guys... He'd ruined their careers. They'd hate him. The only family who knew, who accepted him. Gone. Justin...
Justin would kill him. He knew he was exaggerating, though some small voice whispered he wasn't at least not about Justin. Calm the fuck down, and think he growled at himself. But he couldn't concentrate. The room had grown unbearably stifling. He staggered to his feet, tugging at his top as he moved to the balcony. He threw open the doors, tossing his shirt to the floor as he breathed in the night air.

He stood there for several long minutes, trying to clear his head. It wasn't working. Oh but the liquor was, he headed back to the minibar. He was half way there when the pounding at the door registered. Fucking hell, he thought. It had to be Justin. He was abruptly reminded of his ex's mood from earlier. Great now he not only had to worry about being outed, he had to deal with a pissy Justin. Growling he flung open the door, and froze.

Em snorted at the fish look on the kid's face. Chasez looked like someone had caught him upside the head with a two by four.

JC picked his jaw up of the floor, relaxing unconsciously. Thank god, it wasn't Justin. It was just EmfuckingEm. He tensed all over again. "If your gonna kick my ass, could you please avoid the face?"

"Oh, shut up," grunted Em, rolling his eyes as he shoved past the kid.

JC looked out into the hallway, idly wondering where the hell his bodyguards were. Remembering he'd took off without them, he closed the door behind them. "If you're not here to hurt me..." he trailed off, as Eminem spun to face him.

Marshall meant to offer help. He really did. What came out was... "What the fuck is wrong with you?" growled Slim.

JC shifted warily, unnerved by the venom in the man's tone. "Huh?"

"How the fuck you gon' let some bitch like Timberlake hit you?" growled Slim again, pacing the room. He couldn't understand it. Chasez was a grown man, albeit a scrawny one. Still, if it was him he'd be damned before he let anyone punk him.

Shocked by the question, JC stood stunned speechless. A thousand and one questions fighting to be asked. Foremost, how the fuck had Eminem knew. Second... "What's it to you? Not that he does. I mean not that I am."

Em snorted. "Yeah, that was real convincing kid. And it ain't shit to me. I don't give a fuck. 'Cept any decent fucker would say something if they saw a dog getting kicked. You saying I ain't decent?"

JC was terribly confused. 'Cause somewhere in that diatribe he thought he recognized a genuine offer to help. Not that he needed it. "Look Eminem..."

"Just call me, Em," muttered the rapper. He turned away, heading further into the room.

Unbelievably flustered JC followed. "Look Em, I don't know what you think you know, but I'm not gay." He was floundering unable to get enough of a grip on the situation to come up with anything believable. Especially since it seemed the rapper had no intention of hurting him.

"Fuck kid," said Em as he stared into the mini-bar. "You drank all the good shit."

JC tried again to protest. "Justin and I aren't a couple. He and Britney--"

"Yeah, he's doing the bitch, but he's doing you too." Em grimaced at what was left. He couldn't stand rum, but he cracked it open anyway. "And he's fucking abusing your dumb ass."

JC wanted to protest again. He really did. But the rapper's bluntness was throwing him off. The look Em shot him also wouldn't let him. "Fine," sighed JC, giving up on denying it. "We were. Not anymore. He's with Brit."

Em didn't say anything, just passed him the last of the unopened bottles. He waited for the kid to begin denying the abuse.

JC took the offered drink, then dropped onto the couch. He took a slug, before looking over at Em. "So, you see there's nothing going on here. Even if there was why would you think Justin was abusing me?"

Em sighed in disgust. The kid didn't even see it. Stepping back, he waved a hand in the vague direction of Chasez's bare torso. It was spotted with fading bruises. In one spot was an old scar, white with age but visible enough he could make out it was from teeth. "Have you looked at yourself lately? I bet you've even had a spiral fracture or two."

JC flushed with embarrassment, arms crossing over his chest. Suddenly feeling the urge to hide himself. It had been a long time since anyone aside from Justin had seen him even this bare. "Those aren't.... We were roughhousing," he muttered. How did he know about the fractures?

Em sneered at the weak excuse. JC grew defensive, flushing with rage now. "Oh, what the fuck would you know? Abuse counseling from a man who wrote about dumping his wife's body in a lake."

Em stomped down on the sudden urge to smack the kid in the mouth. Even he knew hitting the person you were trying to help was a no-no. "You're saying he's never hit you?" he asked, locking eyes with the kid. Daring him to tell that lie, 'cause he knew there was no way in hell Timberfuck hadn't.

JC opened his mouth to say just that. But he couldn't. "Only when he was drunk," he whispered. Dropping his eyes from Em's. "He didn't know what he was doing."

Em couldn't believe he was hearing this shit. Chasez making excuses for the fucker like some abused wife from a made for TV movie.

"You know that's shit right," snarled Slim. "Even high as fuck, I ain't never hit Kim's ass. And if ever a bitch deserved it she did. Nobody who gave a shit about you would hurt you."

JC leapt to his feet, walking away. He couldn't sit there and listen to EmfuckingEm voice the thoughts he'd buried long ago. To hear Em say he'd never hit someone he'd cared about. "He's not abusive. He just... his temper gets the better of him. He used to be.... You don't understand how it is."

Em watched Chasez as he tried to justify Timberfuck's behavior. Something about the defeated slump of the kid's shoulder's irritated the fuck outta him.

"I understand you need to beat his ass," snarled Slim. "How the fuck you gon' let that little bitch punk you? What kinda coward are you?" Even as he said the words Marshall winced. Knowing that wasn't exactly the best thing to say.

"Coward," hissed JC, whirling around. "Do you know what would happen if this got out? What I would lose?" JC nearly started hyperventilating at the thought. Everything he loved. The guys. He'd never be able to face them. He wasn't sure they'd even believe it. Not after all this time. His parents. He couldn't begin to imagine their reaction.

Of course, the boy bander would be more interested in preserving his image than his hide. Too worried about what others thought to dare upsetting the status quo. "So to keep your fans, the fame, and the money you'll sell your soul. Yeah, coward," spat Slim. 'Cause Em couldn't see another reason, a real man would let himself be treated like that.

Nearly incoherent with rage, JC stormed past Em. "Get out," he snarled. "Get the fuck out. How dare you judge me?" JC flung open the door. "You know fuck all."

Slim tossed his empty bottle onto the couch, moving to the door. He paused, looking Chasez up and down with a face filled with disgust. However, Marshall tried one last time. "Whatever you think is worth putting up with this shit, it isn't."

JC didn't respond just pointed out the door.

Em shrugged, stomping past. He'd done his best. Wasn't his fault the kid had the survival instincts of a depressed lemming.

JC slammed the door the moment Em exited. He stared helplessly around the room. Desperately trying to squash what was rising in his chest. He was not an abused boyfriend. He was not a coward. He wasn't. He... JC lunged for the bathroom. He needed to quiet the voices in his head or he was going to go insane. Fumbling through the cabinet, he quickly found his sleeping pills. Popping two he collapsed onto the bed, giving a whimper of relief as the darkness enveloped him.