The tepid Florida air hit Lance with pathetic normality. He stayed silent, only casting the occasional upset glance in JC's direction. Much to his continued annoyance, JC was still ignoring him. If it was only the fact he was high, Lance could have handled it, but it was more, so much more. Not only was he creating an awkward environment for Lance, but also jabbing him with the sharp end of a million needles. Silence was so much worse than yelling, a fact he'd learned at a young age with his parents.

"We're meeting at seven right?" Chris asked to no one in particular. He peeled the skin off a complimentary bannana stolen from the hospitality tray of the first class flight and strolled through the airport toward baggage claim. "If we're not all there by seven, it's gonna throw the whole fucking day off, so seven okay?" He eyed JC and Justin who were giggling like a couple of schoolgirls, completly high. "JC? Hear me? Seven, s-e-v-e-n. Not any later. Capish?"

Justin rolled his eyes. "He hears you, dammit. He's not deaf. Just stoned." With that, he broke out into a new fit of laughter, JC joining him, each one elbowing and ribbing the other.

Joey trailed behind with Lance, his heart aching for the pain he was going through. JC hadn't said word one to him since their little spat on the plane. "What are you doing tonight?" he asked, hoping to keep the conversation light.

Lance shrugged, pausing to push his computer bag higher on his shoulder. "Nothing. I guess JC won't be coming over, so I suppose I'll just pack." He nibbled absently on his thumbnail and continued down toward baggage claim. "What about you? Hot date?"

Joey grabbed his friend in a playful headlock. "Yeah, with an ugly Mississippi boy."

Lance laughed, squirming out from Joey's grasp. He smiled broadly, really loving Joey for trying to brighten his mood. "You don't have to ya know. I'll be fine."

"Ah, it's okay. I can pack in ten minutes flat. You know me. Besides, you and me, we're sharing a bus. I can just borrow your shit." He pulled a pack of gum from his pocket and handed a piece to Lance. "I'll stop home, throw some shit in a bag and head on over. We'll rent one of those damn space movies you love and get a pizza. Cool?"

Lance nodded, grateful for the offer. "Yeah. Thanks."

Joey grinned. "Anytime, buddy."

Five limos waited at baggage claim. Lance stood back, watching Justin and JC goof off, flying from the drugs, but still making him feel distant. Without a word, JC brushed by him, exiting the automatic doors and hopping into his limo. Lance tilted his head, calling after him with no luck. When JC wanted to be a prick, he really could be. Lance grabbed his bag and slid into his own limo, a dull ache beginning it's assault at his temples. He rubbed at them, trying to swallow the hurt he felt at being shunned so brutally by JC. It was just some words spoken back on the airplane, nothing serious, nothing worth being ignored with such vengence. There was so much more behind his actions, and Lance leaned back against the cool leather, vowing to figure this all out. He'd hoped to have at least one evening with JC before the craziness of the tour started up again, one night of love making, holding one another tightly, laughing. Ha. Laughing. He couldn't remember the last time sex had been fun with him. It was more of a simple physical release anymore, just something that needed to be done, not something that wanted to be done.

Well. at least Joey was coming over to help keep his mind off the horrible events of the day. While he couldn't mend his broken heart, he was always great fun, and knew just what to say or do to make him feel better. Lance closed his eyes, still tired from all the activity. He didn't open them until he was at the gate to his home.

The house had been closed up for the entire week he'd been in the Carribean, casting a dull, stale scent into his nostrils. He scrunched his face up and tossed his bags to the floor. He wandered into the kitchen and noticed the little light on his answering maching blinking furiously, the number 24 lit up next to it. Sighing heavily, he sat down, cradling his head in his hands. The tears still persisted, hanging out behind his eyes, ready to flow whenever he was ready. Instead, he grabbed the bottle of Tylenol and popped a few, then a few more for good measure. Hitting the play button, he heard the first of his messages. His mother going on and on about some new artists and things for work. He listened carefully before hitting the forward button. The third one caught his attention.

Hey baby. It's me. I'm on my way to the airport to meet you guys. I know you're probably gone by now, as usual. Hey, I just wanted to say I'm glad we're getting away, even if it's with Joey, Chris and Justin. I don't say how much you mean to me sometimes, and um, well, I do. I just wanted to let you know. See you in a few minutes. Never say I'm not the eternal romantic guy.

Lance stared at the machine, and replayed it. JC never said things like that. He smiled briefly before reminding himself that JC wasn't speaking to him. His temples throbbed harder, and he headed up the stairs to his room, collapsing onto the bed and drifting off into slumber. His dreams were of JC, a day on the beach when they'd first gotten there. JC built a campfire near a secluded cove. He made promises to Lance, words that Lance wanted desperatly to believe, even if they were laced under a haze of drugs. The dream tuned on him as huge waves crashed about, and JC leapt onto the rocks, saving only himself, leaving Lance to struggle and finally drown in the water.

Lance woke with a start, drenched in sweat. For a moment, he couldnt' breath, still feeling the crush of the water around him, taking the life out of him. The banging on the door snapped him back to his room. Groggily he stumbled to the front door, unlatching the door, still shaky. Joey stood there, concern and worry on his face. "Damn if I wasn't getting ready to break this motherfucker down. You alright?"

Lance nodded, moving back into the house. "Bad dream. I'm okay now. Got the movies?" He slumped down on his couch and closed his eyes. He had to call JC right away and clear the air. One way or the other, he was determined not to have any more nightmares.

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