chapter6: all wrong
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This is all wrong, this is pointless, I don't even know why I'm here right now... Lance still sat on the bed, but he was fully dressed. It was two o' clock in the afternoon and his head was in his hands. Suddenly he felt very stupid for running when he should have stayed. He regretted not talking to JC when he had the chance, and now he'd hurt him and Lance didn't know if they would ever manage to get through this.
"But I've got to try," he said in a half-whisper, walking to the door of the room and flinging it open. He didn't even look back as he went through it and pulled it shut behind him.
***
JC had no idea where he was going. He had no plan whatsoever, and he had no clue where to begin looking for Lance. "At least I'm doing something," he muttered to himself. Where would Lance go when he was upset? Something told him that Lance would have wanted to get as far away from him as possible. The thought made him feel worse than he'd felt all day. Tears stung his eyes; he didn't cry very often, but lately it seemed that he was becoming more and more susceptible to it. He was frustrated. He didn't understand why Lance had run away, when they'd put the whole Aaron situation behind them a long time ago.
"Think, IDIOT," he said to himself. Of course Lance had run, of course he'd been upset. When they had first gotten together, it had been hard, really hard--what with the management, and the other guys' reactions, and the fact that they were two immensely famous people who had to put up a front for an entire world of fans. It had taken them months to build their relationship, and JC had destroyed all of that in a single night--and destroyed Lance along with it.
There it was again, the painful feeling in his chest, the acid-guilt that refused to go away. "I'm coming, baby, and this time, I'm going to make it right."
***
By the time Lance caught a cab and reached the hotel, it was close to 3 o' clock in the afternoon. He fiddled with the elevator buttons nervously, finally pushing the one for the 43rd floor and leaning against the carpeted wall. He wondered what the other guys would say and do when they saw him.
He didn't have to wait long. As soon as the elevator doors opened, he caught sight of the three of them standing, talking, in the hotel corridor. The elevator pinged and they turned to see who had arrived.
Suddenly he was being hugged and hit at the same time, pulled into a massive group hug by Joey, Chris and Justin.
Justin was the first to pull away, and Lance distinctly saw him wipe his eyes before saying, "Lance, you motherFUCKER, where have you been? You killed JC, did you know that? You absolutely killed him." Lance felt nothing close to satisfaction just then, only deep, unfathomable sorrow for causing JC that much pain
"Where is he?" he said quietly, and Joey and Chris finally let go of him. "Where's JC, where is he?" There was a definite note of panic in his voice now.
"He...he went to look for you, man," Joey said, through sniffles. "He's out there right now, wandering the streets, and with pneumonia no less..."
"WHAT?? Oh my god...I have to find him, he'll kill himself for sure, you know how he gets..." he trailed off, desperate, searching for answers he couldn't find. "He didn't bring his cellphone?"
"It's still in your hotel room." Justin jerked his thumb towards the door to the suite.
"Idiot!" Lance cursed softly. As he turned back towards the elevator, he heard Chris calling after him, "You didn't bring yours either! Nevermind..."
***
Late afternoon found JC in midtown Manhattan, headed towards the Monster Sushi restaurant where he and Lance had had their first real date. He'd spent the entire afternoon visiting small places that meant a lot to the two of them, asking random passersby if they'd seen a "good-looking guy, young, with honey-colored hair and the most beautiful green eyes you'll ever see." Most of them had given him quizzical stares, and all of them had answered no.
He was getting tired, losing energy, he knew. His joints were aching, his muscles throbbing, and the headache he'd started out with only seemed to be getting worse. "S'no use..." he muttered thickly as he pushed open the glass doors of the Japanese restaurant. He settled himself in a chair, only to rest for a while, but at the same time he felt his eyelids drooping and the familiar haze of sleepiness coming over him...
***
Lance had a pretty good idea where to look. JC was, if truth be told, the cheesiest person he'd ever met--which only made Lance love him even more. As such, he was most likely to visit all the places that meant something to both of them, no matter how trivial. It would take some time, but Lance knew exactly where to look. And he would spend forever if that's how long it took to find JC and save what was left of the two of them.
***
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