Silence
Indigo
***
It was hard to understand JC's silence. Over the years he had become, if possible, even more withdrawn, even more reclusive (as reclusive as his occupation permitted him to be) than when the group had first started out. It was odd because he wasn't always like this. He would, quite unexpectedly, join in on the conversation when the others were sitting around the table, eating, talking, laughing. He would say something rather softly which was usually very witty--and, encouraged by the laughter of his bandmates, he would gradually open up until he was just as much a part of the conversation as, say, Chris (who seemed to never run out of things to talk about).
There were times, however, when none of the others could get JC to say even a single word, as if he was in a closed-off shell, buried deep within his own thoughts. He would sit for hours staring blankly at anything and everything, not even sleeping, only sitting quietly. It was at the very least an eery sight, and usually his bandmates were careful not to bother him when he was in such a mood.
It was during one such time that Lance found out he was the only one who could get JC out of his semi-conscious state. They had all decided to stay on one bus, at least for the short drive to Boston, and resurrect the old custom of ganging up on Lance--something they hadn't done since he'd gotten rid of the old bulbhead haircut.
"So tell us Lance, have you gotten the letter yet?" Against his nature, Lance chose to reply to this question posed by Justin and so rise to the bait.
He sighed. "What letter is that?"
Justin wiggled his eyebrows rather cutely. "You know, the one telling you that you've been nominated for Best Actor at the Academy Awards. I mean, come on, you just ATTACKED the role of Kevin Gibbons.
Chris picked up on this and joined in the fun. "Lance," he began, very seriously, "I honestly believe that for a second there, you actually BECAME Kevin Gibbons. You took on his persona, you wore his face, you," and at this he stood up and waved his arms dramatically, "developed his AURA." He sat down again and closed his eyes, pretending to meditate.
"Yeah, yeah," Lance said tiredly.
"Don't listen to these guys, Lance." Joey had just come in from a talk he'd been having with the driver up front. "You were great. Especially," and he sat down across from Lance, "that part when you had to do a little break dance wearing two different kinds of women's shoes. Smooth moves, brutha." He chuckled.
"Et tu, Joey?" He glanced over at JC, who sat on the couch next to him looking tired and listless. "You're not going to defend me on this, Jayce?"
Justin followed his gaze and sighed. "Don't expect to get any help from HIM. He's in one of his moods again." With a half-disgusted look he went into the back room, followed closely by Chris, to begin a game on the bus's Playstation. Joey got up and went into the small kitchen to have a soda. JC and Lance were left alone.
"Assholes," Lance muttered darkly as he switched on the tv. Next to him, JC stirred and quite suddenly, to Lance's surprise, laid his head on Lance's shoulder.
"I thought you were great," he said sleepily, staring at the tv but not really seeing it. "They wouldn't know good acting if it hit them on their heads."
"Thanks." Lance said nothing after that. He found it rather nice, even if it WAS rather uncomfortable, to have JC so close. He'd never been very affectionate with any of his bandmates, least of all JC, who was so sullen at times.
After a while, Lance noticed that JC had fallen into a deep sleep and was now teetering dangerously on the edge of his shoulder. He drew JC closer to him, securing him with an arm around the waist. In his sleep, JC wrapped both of his own arms around Lance's middle.
And so it was that Justin, on the way to the kitchen, found the two. Lance had fallen asleep as well, and his head was lolled back on the couch. "Whoa," Justin couldn't help from saying as he took in the sight. This woke Lance, who peered at him sleepily.
"Wha--Justin?" He looked down at JC, still sleeping peacefully, and at the look on Justin's face. He jumped up suddenly, sending JC's head crashing to the seat of the couch and waking him.
JC groaned. "Lance, what--" he opened his eyes and saw Justin watching the two of them through narrowed slits. JC got up.
"Justin, whatever you're thinking--" Lance began.
"It's totally ridiculous," JC finished. "We just fell asleep." He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.
Justin looked from one to the other, then shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, it's none of my business," he said cheerfully, though his eyes betrayed him. He continued on his way to the kitchen, leaving the two of them standing uncomfortably and avoiding each other's gazes. Lance spoke.
"Well...that was weird." He stepped towards JC, who took a step back. Lance frowned. "Hey Jayce, I'm not gonna like, be all weird around you or anything. Nothing happened."
JC looked up and gave Lance a grim smile. "Yeah, nothing happened." After a while, "I, uhh, I think I'm gonna go crash in one of the bunks." He took off. Lance was slightly put out and more than a little confused about JC's strange behavior.
***
Boston, though immensely cold at that time of year, proved to be more than pleasant. Though the concert schedule was heavy and the rehearsals left them with hardly any free time at all, Justin and Lance still found time to take a short tour around the city. The others had decided to stay at the hotel and rest.
It was during a quiet walk near Boston Harbor, their bodyguards trailing behind at a discreet distance, that Justin began the conversation. "So, you and JC, huh?"
It caught Lance quite off-guard, though he'd wondered idly whether Justin would bring it up or not. "Me and JC? Nah, that wasn't even intentional, man. He's like my brother, what do you expect?" He didn't meet Justin's eyes as he said this.
Justin shook his head. "That's not the way JC sees it." He stopped and stared out at the boats docked in the harbor. Lance leaned on the railing and stared hard at Justin.
"Has he told you anything, Just?" He swallowed and waited for the answer. A hidden part of him wanted Justin to say yes.
"Not directly. He's said some things, yeah, when he thought I wasn't really paying attention." He stared at Lance. "But most of it's just this feeling I get, you know? When you know that one of your brothers is keeping something that they're too uncomfortable to share." He turned his gaze back out to the sea. "I get the same feeling with you."
Lance swallowed again. "I don't know what you mean." Suddenly he was regretting going on this little outing with Justin.
His bandmate sighed. "Whatever you say, Lance. Just," and at this he turned back again to Lance and looked him in the eye, "do what you think will make you happy. I hope when the time comes you'll know what that is." He walked on ahead of Lance, who was now feeling thoroughly confused and dreading going back to the hotel, where he knew JC was.
***
"Joshua?" Lance poked his head into the dark hotel room. He could barely make out a figure sprawled belly-down on the large bed.
Silence. JC was asleep then. He didn't know what compelled him to do it, but Lance slipped silently into the room and found his way in the darkness to the couch. From this angle he could see JC's face clearly, his cheek pressed hard against the pillow, relaxed and unwrinkled for the moment.
He didn't think he had ever seen anything so beautiful and so sad. Even in his sleep, JC's expression was somber, as if he held a great secret. He knew there was more to JC's silence, much more than any of them could ever imagine, though he didn't know exactly what just then. For the time being, he was content just watching him sleep.
It might have been hours or maybe minutes. Lance sat taking in the sight of JC sleeping, breathing in, out, in, out, the same steady rhythm without a break in the pattern. He moved very little and snored not at all. Here was a person who slept unattached to the waking world. Lance wished he could sleep as peacefully as JC did; his own sleep was tormented by worried thoughts and fitful tossing. Perhaps this was part of the great secret? Lance didn't understand why that thought had crossed his mind. In any case, he meant to ask JC how he did it.
For the first time since Lance had entered the room, JC stirred. He turned onto his side, facing Lance now, and opened his eyes slowly. Lance thought this was breathtaking, though he didn't dare say so. Instead he asked of JC, softly, "Did you sleep well?"
He was rewarded with a tired smile from JC, who made no sign of wanting to sit up. "Mmm, yeah I suppose..." he stretched, though still lying down, and relaxed again, now flat on his back facing the ceiling. He turned his head towards Lance. "Lance, lie down next to me." His tone was soft and inviting. He acted as if he'd done something as ordinary as asking Lance to accompany him to the mall. Lance stiffened.
"Are you, uhm, are you sure you want me to do that, Joshua?" Lance stood up nervously, fingering the cuffs of his denim jacket. JC gave a throaty laugh.
"You never call me Joshua. Yes I'm sure, you look like you need some sleep. Come on, up you get," he said, as Lance clambered on to the bed and settled down next to him. They lay on their backs, pondering the ceiling for a few moments before JC tentatively laid his hand on Lance's upturned palm. His touch was so soft Lance had to look to be sure that JC's hand was really on his own. This was gentle, this was wonderful, Lance thought, as he curled hs fingers around JC's and relaxed into the pillow. In a matter of moments they were both locked in sleep, far from the dark hotel room they lay in.
***
"JC, wake up!" There came a loud banging on the hotel room door and a muffled yell which sounded distantly like Joey's voice. A second series of loud knocks, the tell-tale click and spring as the keycard was slipped into the slot, and the door swung open. Joey strode purposefully into the room, bent on dragging JC out of bed by the feet, when he stopped and gaped at the two figures on the bed. For quite some time he could do nothing but stare.
JC was lying flat on his back, his face upturned. His right hand was held fast in Lance's left, while Lance had rolled onto his side facing JC and was subconsciously fingering JC's hair with his right hand. The banging and yells had done nothing to wake either of them, who looked very much like they would never be able to wake up again. Joey regained his senses and walked over to Lance's side of the bed.
One good, hard poke in his side and Lance was fully awake, peering up at Joey with blurry morning vision. "Jo, what did you do that for??" he asked irritably. Then, glancing quickly at JC and suddenly realizing the very familiar situation he found himself in, he sat up, snatching his hand back from JC's gentle grasp. "This is nothing, this is--"
Joey held up a hand to interrupt him. "Relax, Lance, relax. To tell you the truth, I'm more relieved than anything else." He sat down on the edge of the bed and patted Lance's knee. "I've known for forever, you know." His eyes twinkled as he said this, and under his gaze Lance found himself desperate to admit what he now knew was the truth.
"Joey, I don't..." he had wanted to lie but he could not, not anymore. He sighed, defeated. "He makes me happy, Jo." He looked down at JC, who was still sleeping, and smiled. "He's the only person I know who can make me smile at the thought of him. And that was enough for me, for a while at least, just being with him as a friend. But now...now I'm not so sure." He looked at Joey, feeling helpless. "I don't know if I could ever say that to him, what I just told you."
Joey gave him an understanding look. "You know, Lance, I think you could. Maybe not now, but sooner or later the feeling will overwhelm you and you won't be able to KEEP from telling him. You get what I'm saying?"
Lance nodded his head slowly. "I think so." They sat quietly for a while. Then Joey spoke.
"Well Lansten, today might not be the day, but it'll come. In the meantime, I'm starved. You wanna go get some breakfast downstairs? My treat." Lance nodded and Joey patted him on the back. They left the room.
As soon as the door clicked, JC opened his eyes and smiled, a joyful, ecstatic smile that brought back the lines to his eyes and mouth. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, glad that he possessed a certain reputation for sleeping like a log. It seemed that, for this one time, he had gained much from his thoughtful and unbreakable silence.
***
fiction