He doesn’t exist.

He’s Justin fucking Timberlake and he doesn’t exist to them, he isn’t even there. The seat he is sitting in is empty.

He’d been- what? What had he been doing? Oh, yes. Talking to JC. Then Joey had come and said something to JC and JC had merely walked away without a backwards glance.

“But we were… I mean, we had… we were…” He’d called after JC, his voice petering out pathetically, and he had winced at the sound of his childish words.

“Be back in a second.” JC had tossed over his shoulder.

It’s been a long time more than a goddamned second. It’s been an hour. And he can hear JC laughing as he plays some fucking video game in the other room.

He wonders if there’s some unwritten rule that says JC has to ignore and forget him. He does it all the time and it grates on Justin’s nerves, making him grind his teeth in anger, his hands curled into fists and jammed uncomfortably in his pockets. Maybe it’s selfish of him, but it makes him absolutely furious every time JC walks away from him.

Which is all JC ever does anymore.

“Aw, is the little JuJu pouting?” Chris’ mocking voice floats across the room. “The poor JuJu is all alone, being ignored…”

“Shut the fuck up, Chris.” He hisses. Ever since- since when? When had Chris turned from his best friend into SuperBitch? When did Chris start hating him, when did everything he did stop being good enough?

And Joey- who is now sitting next to Chris- is no help, either. Joey is always so… neutral. He never takes sides, always tries to soothe things between Justin and Chris.

Justin wonders who he hates more, Chris who says and does terrible things or Joey who doesn’t do anything at all.

And then there’s Lance.

Justin shifts in his chair, staring out the window.

Lance. Why does he even bother? Why does he keep trying to get through those cold green eyes, try to reach past the insensitive words and heartbreaking laughter?

Because he knows there is something more, there has to be something more.

He sees it sometimes when they’re alone and Lance will laugh and the sound is clear and sweet and his eyes will soften, almost imperceptibly, and then it is inevitable that Justin will say something that makes those eyes harden and the laughter become distant and automatic and Justin hates it because he knows that he is so close.

But Lance does terrible things that aren’t so terrible but make Justin feel like hitting someone or screaming or breaking down and crying or maybe all three at once.

Lance hangs up the phone without saying goodbye, Lance walks away from the conversation while Justin is in the middle of a sentence, Lance hangs out with all the people Justin hates with all his heart.

And he’s glad that he’s invisible, suddenly. Because no one cared enough to ask if he was okay. And no one saw the tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

And no one asked him why.

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