Justin sighed and slumped down in his seat, elbows resting on his knees. He brought a hand up to rub at his forehead. What the hell had he just done? He had wanted JC to know the truth. He had wanted him to not be mad that Justin hadn’t gone to the party. He had wanted some sort of an apology. But now, when it had come, he’d fucked things up further.
He wanted to talk to JC. About yesterday, about the day before. About the previous year. But now, when JC actually sits down beside him to have a normal, rational conversation, all Justin can say is whatever?
The truth was, as much as he had wanted JC to know the truth, as much as he wanted JC to not be mad at him for not going last night, he was a little mad that it had to come from Joey for him to listen to and actually believe it. It hurt that JC couldn’t, and wouldn’t listen to Justin. It hurt that JC didn’t even stick around to find out the truth. Which was why, he knew, he had reacted how he did. But now the problem was, they were an entire step backwards. He had seen JC’s face. As much as he hadn’t wanted to, he had seen it all too clearly. He could still see it clearly, swimming in his mind. The hurt, the pain, the sadness, at Justin’s reaction to his apology.
JC had been willing to talk. Maybe just about last night for now. But if things had gone differently, they might have actually had a real conversation and gotten everything fixed between them. And that was exactly what Justin wanted. But he had fucked it up, once again. He sighed and closed his eyes tightly, praying for this day to be over as quickly as possible. He just wasn’t in the mood now to go out there and play a bunch of silly games. As soon as that thought entered his mind, he dismissed it. This was for charity. And this was for the fans. Even though JC didn’t think he remembered, Justin knew the fans were who made them. It wasn’t something he ever forgot and he vowed to himself that he’d go out there, make an ass out of himself, and have a great time doing it. For the fans. And for himself.
*****
Justin saw JC make his way across the sand to the special area under the tents for the celebrities but when he hadn’t returned five minutes later, Justin made his way back there as well. A game was going on that didn’t involve him and he knew he had a few minutes. He thought, maybe, that he could catch JC and apologize for his reaction to JC’s apology earlier. He sighed. It really was a fucked up situation and he hated it more and more with each passing day.
He caught JC just as he was about to step out of the closed off area, a car waiting for him.
“You’re leaving?” Justin asked. JC stopped dead in his tracks and turned toward Justin, their eyes meeting. He could only nod. “What the fuck? You bitch at me yesterday for forgetting it’s for the fans. You bitch at me for being selfish and only thinking about myself and now here you are leaving?”
“Justin, it’s not like that.”
“Fuck you. Don’t tell me what the hell it’s like. You show up here dressed in normal clothes, go out there for twenty minutes, and then take off,” Justin spat.
“At least I showed up,” JC shot back.
“Screw that. Standing out there for twenty minutes, waving to a few fans, doesn’t count. Don’t make this personal. Leave what’s between you and me between you and me. Don’t mess this up for the fans.” Justin had calmed down a little bit, but his voice still held a rough edge.
“This has nothing to do with you and me.”
“Bullshit. I saw your face earlier. I can see it right now. This has everything to do with us. Don’t do that, Jace. Not to them.”
“Let me remind you, once again, that the entire fucking world does not revolve around you. You’re not as great as you think you are.” JC’s voice rose slightly as he stood glaring at Justin.
“You can’t stand it can you?” A small smile played at the corners of Justin’s mouth. It was barely there, but it was enough for JC to notice. His body tensed up slightly.
“Can’t stand what?”
“You’re so jealous it hurts. You can’t stand the fact that my album was successful. I bet you prayed every night for it to fail. You’re jealous that they like me more than you. That I’m the ‘popular’ one. You’re so jealous you can’t even stand in the same vicinity as me without it creeping up on you. Tell me something. How often do you wish you were me? How often do you wish you had my life?” Justin crossed his arms over his chest and smiled smugly.
“I wouldn’t wish to be you if I was dying of a horrible, painful disease. You’re an egotistical little brat who shouldn’t have the fame he has. You’re not worthy of any of it.” JC turned around and stormed toward the waiting car, eyes flashing, face red from the anger. As soon as the car started to move, the smirk slipped from Justin’s face and he uncrossed his arms, shoulders slumping in defeat. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Things weren’t supposed to be like this between them. And everything just seemed to be getting worse every time they spoke to one another.
Turning, he headed back out to the games. He forced a smile and walked out on the sand. But his thoughts were with the man sitting in the car on its way down the street somewhere.