Lance sat huddled in his little corner of the world. It was small. It was cramped. It was a perfect representation of how he felt. Trapped. His little voice hadn't said anything for a while, but it had said enough earlier. Other voices were running through his head now. More familiar voices. Voices he heard everyday. His friends' voices. 'Hey Lance, you talked to your mommy today?' 'Lance, you can't dance, why do you try?' 'Poofu, what kind of a gig was that.' 'You aren't really going to wear that are you?' 'Lance, you look like a duffus when you dance like that.' 'You look like a girl.' 'Lance, when are we supposed to be at the shoot.' 'Scoop, you're no fun.' 'You're totally wrapped around Nicole's finger. I don't see why she's with you anyway.' 'You're such a momma's boy, Lance.'
Lance couldn't get those taunting voices to stop. Deep down he knew that those comments were made in jest. But that nagging little voice, it's words keep coming back to him. It kept making him doubt.
He heard Chris outside the door. He heard the other guys get up. He knew they were sitting there waiting for him. That's why he couldn't come out of his little shell. He didn't want to face them. He didn't want to face their accusing stares, those taunting comments.
He didn't want them to see him like this. As much as he doubted their friendship at this point, he didn't want to break down in front of them. He cared about them, no matter how they felt about him. He didn't want to break down and shatter what good thoughts they did have about him.
'So what do you do?'
'Not you again. Haven't you done enough damage for one night?' Lance questioned his inner nemesis.
'So what do you? I ask again. You sit in here and cry like a baby. How pathetic is that?'
'Shut up. Leave me alone.' Lance pleaded. He'd had enough of the voice. He was sick of the voice. But what could he do? He couldn't tell the guys. They thought he was messed up enough. And they would think he was crazy if he told them what he was thinking. He knew that those things they said, they didn't mean them. So why was he sitting in the bathroom of the bus, crying like a baby?
He wanted that nagging little voice, his doubt, to go away. He had always had his insecurities, who hadn't? But lately, they controlled him. They got to him, in ways he never dreamed possible.
Lance felt the bus rock and shudder to a stop. How long had he been in there? He didn't think it had been long enough for them to make it the rest of the way to Missouri. There was no way. Or maybe he fell asleep. The guys must have forgotten about him back here. He was still crying, albeit more quietly. Crouched in his little corner of the small bathroom, he didn't care if they never remembered that he was there.
He could hear them moving around on the other side of the door. 'Probably getting their stuff.' He could hear them bumping against the door, as they all often did when too many of them tried to occupy the same space. The hall was too small for more than one person to pass at a time.
'Are you dense? They're coming in here. God, you're pathetic. See what you did? Now they will really think you're crazy.'
"Leave me alone. Just go away and leave me alone." Lance cried into his arms, trying to bury his head away from the voice.
"We're not going away, Lance. Now, either you open this damn door, or we're coming in." Chris shouted through the door. He sounded scared. Lance was scared too. What would they think of him when they came through the door, because he knew he couldn't open it. He didn't have the strength to move right now. He couldn't stop them if they wanted in. He knew that too.
'You're fucked now, Poofu.'
"Don't call me that. Stop it. Please, just leave me alone." Lance's voice was horse. It didn't even sound like his voice anymore.
"Lance, no one called you anything. We're coming in there." Joey said, on the other side of the door. Joey fumbled with the keys. He was scared about what he would find. He didn't know what to expect. He knew something was wrong. He just wasn't sure what. But nothing prepared him for the site he saw when he opened the small door. "Oh God, Lance."
Joey heard the gasps of his other bandmates behind him. Lance sat in the corner, shaking, crying. His face was pale, his eyes puffy from his tears. He was huddled into a ball on the floor. His arms were around his knees. He rocked back and forth, like a scared child. Joey felt tears lodge in his throat. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around his best friend.
"Sshhh. It's ok Lance. We're all here. You're ok. It's ok." Joey assured him. He closed his eyes and rocked with his trembling friend.
"Let's get him out of here. Take him in the back room." Chris said, his voice small from the door of the tiny compartment.
Joey complied, and carefully picked Lance up from the floor. The group moved to the lounge in the back of the bus. Joey placed Lance on one of the couches, and wrapped him in one of the wool blankets that were stored back there. The rest of the group moved to sit as close to Lance as they dared. He was still shaking, although he had stopped crying for the most part. His sobs were now quiet sniffles.
"Lance, talk to us. Please." Justin pleaded, when he thought Lance had calmed down enough to talk. Lance shook his head.
"Why?" Joey asked, wrapping his arms around Lance. "Lance, you know you can always talk to us. You can tell us anything. We're always here for you. You know that." Joey assured him. 'Don't listen to him. They just want you to tell them what it is so that they can make fun of you for it. They'll think you NUTS if you tell them you're listening to a silly voice inside your head.'
"I know." Lance whispered.
~*~
"Is he asleep?" JC asked from the small kitchen table. They were now back on the road and headed to Missouri.
"Yea, he is. Did you call Johnny?" Joey asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting at the table with Justin. Across from him, Chris and JC sat, worried and sad looks on their faces.
"Yeah, I called him. I told him what happened. He's canceling tomorrows appearances and show." JC told him, picking at the Formica on the table.
"I think he's having a breakdown." Chris said, not looking at anyone.
"We'll be at the hotel in a few minutes." James said over the intercom.
"Thanks James." Justin called back. "What do we do?"
"He's going to have to get treatment. That's something none of us are qualified to handle. He's going to have to go see a doctor. A psychiatrist." Chris told them.
"He's not going to like that." Justin stated, and they all knew he was right.
"It can't be helped. If he wants to get better, he's going to have to go." JC said, putting his hand over Justin's in the middle of the table.
"We're going to be there for him. Just like he's always there for us." Joey said, placing his hand on top of JC's.
"He's going to need us to. This isn't going to be easy for him. It's not going to be easy for us. We're going to need each other." Chris said, placing his hand on top.
"We'll be alright. All of us." Justin said, pulling his hand back when everyone else had removed theirs.
"I'll tell Johnny to make an appointment as soon as possible. We're going to have to cancel the rest of the shows. It's only two weeks. We can make them up later." JC said, looking around the table for approval from the others. Finding what he was looking for, he picked up the phone and dialed his manager's familiar number.
"Don't you think we should talk to Lance about the doctor first? He's going to be pissed enough that we're canceling the rest of the tour." Justin said. He couldn't imagine how Lance was feeling, but he was pretty sure he was scared. he knew he would be. "Maybe he'll talk to us first. At least tell us what's going on."
"We are going to talk to him, but whatever happens, he still needs to see someone about this.." Chris said, falling into full psych major mode..
"We can't force him to go. Can we?"
"I'm hoping it won't come to that, but we can give him an ultimatum." Chris said, his voice a whisper. His eyes downcast. Justin, nor any of the members of the group around the table, liked the sound of that, to include Chris himself.
~*~
Lance woke up in the back lounge of the bus, a searing pain in his temples. His eyes were heavy and felt like they had sandpaper taped to the inside of the lids. His stomach muscles hurt, his nose was stuffy, and he felt like he couldn't move, even if he wanted to.
But he didn't want to. He didn't want to move, ever. He just wanted to curl up into a ball and fade into the upholstery of the couch. He didn't want to answer questions. He didn't want to face his "friends" and their accusatory and mocking stares. All of which he knew he would get when he was face to face with them. How could he avoid it after last night?
Last night?
It was morning now and the bus was still moving. Shouldn't they have been at the hotel by now? Where the hell were they?
'Well, there goes my reputation. I don't know where we are or where we're going.' Lance though, groaning as he sat up. The pain in his head worsened for a moment then tapered off into a dull ache. His eyes were sore to touch. He could hear the others in the kitchen area, talking in hushed tones. 'Probably about me.'
'Of course, about you. Who else made an idiot out of themselves last night by crying like a baby in a two foot bathroom on a moving vehicle.'
'I need to call in at FreeLance, see what's going on there.' Lance thought, pointedly trying to ignore The Voice.
'That would involve calling your mother. You're not talking to her, remember? You didn't want to be a momma's boy.'
'I need to check my schedule against JC and Chris's. Find out when we'll be able to do "Say What?"'
'Remember when they called about that? They wanted Justin but he refused to do it, so they asked you instead. That is, after Joey told them he couldn't do it 'cause he was too busy doing that book thing.'
'I wonder what color shirt is on top in my bag.'
'Probably the yellow one that everyone says makes you look translucent.'
"Damnit! Shut up!" Lance hissed quietly, his headache increasing times three.
'Sorry. I was just trying to be conversational.'
"Well, don't!"
"Don't what?" JC asked, coming in the room. He sat in the chair in the corner looking at Lance as he waited for an answer.
"Nothing. Where are we?" Lance asked, hoping to change the subject.
"About a hundred and fifty miles outside of Missouri."
"Shouldn't we have been there by now?" Lance asked, seriously confused.
"A hundred and fifty miles on the other side of Missouri. We didn't stop." JC explained, stalling for time. He didn't know what to say to Lance without him freaking out.
"Why didn't we stop?" Lance questioned.
"Show was canceled, along with all our appearances. And the rest of the tour. we're on out way to New York." JC explained to him, seeing the shock and then worry cross his friends face.
"Why? What happened? What's wrong?" Lance asked, his worry very clear though JC knew it wasn't what he was thinking.
"Noting bad, Lance. Calm down." JC told him, resting a hand on Lance's shoulder.
"So, everyone's ok?" Lance questioned, just to assure himself.
"No, Lance. Everyone's not." JC said, deciding to be straight with Lance, although he was hoping he would have someone else there to back him up.
"Josh, you're confusing me here." Lance said, shaking his head, not understanding what JC was talking about.
JC took a deep breath for courage. This was going to be hard. "Lance, listen to me before you say anything. OK?" JC waited for his nod before he continued. "Something's been up with you lately. You dropped Nicole, actually accused her of cheating on you, and you've cut your mom off." JC help up his hand when he saw the anger flicker in Lance's eyes and he was about to speak. "Let me finish, please? You've been pushing us away too, and we don't know why. You don't talk to us anymore. You never hang out. You're short tempered, and probably worst of all, you never laugh or smile anymore and last night. Last night you scared the shit out of us. What was that last night, Lance? Talk to me." JC practically in tears, waited to hear whatever Lance was willing to tell him.
"Let me get this straight. You guys canceled the rest of the tour and our appearances, without even asking me?" Lance asked, his voice a little too loud for the small space.
'See how unimportant you are to them?'
"Lance, you're folding. Something isn't right. We're worried. What happened last night?" JC asked again, his stare never leaving Lance's cold one. "Please, Lance. Tell me what happened."
"I don't want to talk about last night. I want to talk about you guys canceling the tour without even asking me first." Lance ground out between clenched teeth, his eyes green fire. JC almost wanted to cringe under the intensity of his glare, but his determination held out.
"Fuck the tour, James. I want to know what the hells going on with you."
Lance's eyes softened slightly at his friend's words. "You guys are really worried aren't you?" Lance asked, his voice showing his surprise. JC was taken aback by that.
"Lance, we are way past worried. We're scare shitless." JC said, moving to sit on the couch beside him.
'Don't listen to him. He's lying.'
"Lance, will you talk to us? Please?" Lance turned quickly towards the door where Chris had spoken. Joey and Justin right behind him.
Lance looked at them. All of them. Each one looked worried. Truly and deeply concerned. He felt the all too familiar sting of tears in his eyes.
He heard the others come in the room but didn't see them. He was staring at the ground now. He doubted he would have been able to see them anyway, the way his tears were coursing down his cheeks to puddle on the floor.
'They're going to think you're insane.' warned his little voice.
'They already do. And I am, for thinking they didn't care. I was crazy for listening to you.'
"Lance, are you ready to talk to us now?" JC asked, his hand resting comfortingly on Lance's back.
Lance lifted his head and looked around. He managed a small smile. "Yea, I think I am."