"Lance? You okay?"

Lance nodded, not bothering to open his eyes. The plane was due to land in little more than one hour, and he needed the time to catch up on his shut eye. The tour would resume in the morning, and while JC had been a less than perfect boyfriend in public, he'd expected Lance to put out all night long, thus causing the dark circles under his eyes. Now he dared ask if he was okay.

"You sure?"

"Fuck, JC. I'm fine." Lance's eyes flew open and he shifted in his seat. "I'm just tired. Leave me be." The words were harsh, quick and firm, meant to be that way, meant to cut JC, if indeed he could be cut. Lance wasn't so sure anymore, he was barely sure the guy was human. He turned toward the window and peered out over the clouds, so soft and billowy he wished he could jump out and join them, just float around for a bit, clear his head. He didn't understand JC's growing distance toward him, not at all. He'd given himself, every ounce of his soul to him, and he was tossing it back, bit by bit. The pain was too intense, and not fighting to be on the same tour bus was just another way of putting that distance between them.

"Fine, sorry I asked," JC snapped, jumping to his feet and staring down at him. "Just be, then. Fuck you."

Lance kept his gaze steady, feeling the familar sting burn his eyes. He pressed the bridge of his nose hard and closed his eyes again, refusing to cry, insisting on staying solid, even if it was just for show, even if inside he was breaking into peices. He couldn't be sure, but he felt the end of their relationship growing to a close, and it hurt, badly.

From behind, he heard JC's angry voice talking to Justin about him, loud enough for him to hear, words spoken so he could know exactly what was being said. Hurtful things, and laughing, all at his expense. Reaching for his headphones, he covered his ears and sank into the strains of Dido, turning the volume up when they grew louder. If JC wanted to play high school games, Lance sure wasn't going there. When they landed, he would sort it all out, sort out his feelings and decide if JC was really worth all this.

Joey watched with disgust filled eyes. When Lance placed the headset over his ears, he'd had enough. Throwing a magazine at JC's head, he connected. "You're an asshole," he hissed, glaring at him.

"Hey, what's it to you anyway? Why you always protecting him? It's not like he can't defend himself. He just chooses not to." JC laughed, looking at Justin, who joined in.

Joey frowned, more like a scowl. "Then break up with him, but christ, JC, don't do this to him. Don't fuck with his emotions like that. It's not fair. You're going to kill the guy."

JC shrugged, pulling a bag of pot from his pocket. "You in, J?"

Justin nodded, heading back for the lavatory. JC pursed his lips at Joey before following Justin back. Joey shook his head, angry at himself for not doing more earlier, angry for letting Lance get into a situation he quickly lost control of. He was supposed to be his best friend, his protector in this ugly world of music. He'd let him down in the harshest of ways. Staring over at the sleeping figure of his friend, he sighed, catching the solitary tear that made it's escape down his cheek. "Fuck you, JC," Joey whispered, as Lance wiped the tear away with his sleeve. "You wanna fuck with him? You fuck with me."

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