They were all in love with him.

Maybe it was the way he’d shove his fingers through his bleached hair and a scowl would darken his blood-colored lips and his eyes would narrow when he was thinking out a new choreography step.

Maybe it was his rhythm, the way his body flowed from one movement to the next- smooth, beautiful, simple, ecstatic.

Maybe it was his eyes.

But whatever it was, they still crowded into a booth at a local diner and giggled like schoolgirls about him after rehearsals.

And JC lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling, his hands folded across his chest, and tried not to feel guilty about the stolen kisses, the secret touches- the way those blood lips pressed against his, rough and silky at the same time.

He never told Wade about his discomfort, never said anything about why he’d sometimes push Wade away and stride off, his face scarlet and his fists clenched.

It wouldn’t work. He knew that, he’d known that from the beginning, from the first time he’d slid his hands over Wade’s muscular back and pressed his chapped lips against Wade’s neck. But he’d been so lonely, and it had seemed easy at the time. Easy to walk away.

It will work out, Wade murmured sometimes, his scratchy voice ringing out in the semidarkness. JC, we can make this work.

So he tried not to say the words they both knew he had to.

So that was why Wade was sitting on their bed, his head in his hands. I don’t understand, he kept saying. I don’t understand.

Why the fuck not? JC snapped, his voice wavering, betraying his insecurity. Jesus, Wade. They’re going to figure it out sometime.

What’s so bad about that? Wade hissed. Why are you so ashamed, why am I something to hide?

JC swallowed, walked away.

And the door closed behind him, softly. Bursting Wade’s eardrums all the same.

It wasn’t the same after that. they stopped gathering at the diner- Justin was too tired, Lance was too busy, and JC never came anyways.

JC grew his hair out, grew a beard- started dressing more and more dangerously, testing the limits of the group’s tolerance. And each night it was a different person- a girl, a guy, he didn’t really care. Someone attractive, someone who shone with sweat and sex appeal and rhythm.

And Wade watched with cool eyes while his heart bled and he could feel it rupturing in his chest. And JC smirked at him while he drowned himself in drinks, inching closer to his dancing partners, sliding his hands across the faceless bodies, pressing his lips against nameless faces.

And Wade watched until his heart felt as hot and heavy as the sun, burning his ribcage, and then he went back to the hotel and tried to blur the images of JC with other people using sleeping pills.

JC, he said tersely, cornering the lanky singer one day. End it. Now. Please just stop this.

And the brunette just laughed, winked, and walked away.

But sometimes JC cried himself to sleep at night.

And sometimes JC tried not to stare at Wade, but did anyways. And sometimes JC hated himself.

I love you, he’d whisper to his empty hotel room. I love you, I love you, and I’m so sorry.

But Wade never heard him.

I didn’t marry a man who wastes away in the studio, staring at pictures, JC. Karen’s soft voice rings out through the room. I married a successful singer.

Did you marry the man or the career? JC snaps, tired of hearing the same complaints night after night.

The man. Karen sighs. But I didn’t know the man could be like this.

JC rolls his blue eyes. Karen, go to bed. I’ll be there soon.

No, you won’t. she whispers, then turns to go. And then stops and murmurs, I married you because I wanted you to be my husband. I married you because I wanted to be your wife. Because I loved you, still love you. But I’m not afraid to hate you.

Goodnight, Karen. He mumbles and turns back to the desk.

JC takes one look at the picture. He knows that if he stays, it will only end up in another fight.

His marriage is falling apart, and he knows why, but can’t say it.

He reaches over, turns off the light. Sits in complete darkness and lets the tears fall.

Then wipes them away, and goes to be the man he promised to be. Goes to be a husband.

And the picture of Wade lies smiling and unfazed on the desk.

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