Shadow

JC watches Justin sleep. Justin looks young when he sleeps. His lips are parted slightly and his breath is coming out in soft puffs against the couch cushion. One arm is tucked under his chest, the other dangling off the couch. His fingers are just touching the floor. It’s funny, JC thinks, how Justin can flip from being so old to so young with the snap of fingers.

He remembers the first time he noticed it. He hadn’t liked Justin, then. Justin was a confident, grinning kid who strutted onto the set, so, so sure of himself. JC remembers shaking his head and thinking that it’s all a game, it has to be. He wished he could look that confident. As it was, he’d slunk onto the set on his first day, a couple years before Justin’s first day, folded into himself, with wide, darting eyes, praying he didn’t mess up. But Justin, he marched through the room, shoulders back, the cocky half-grin he was still fond of all these years later making its first appearance.

JC remembers that little bubble of annoyance that settled itself in his chest every time Justin nailed a skit, and he remembers the slight guilt over the fact that he almost waited for Justin to trip up. And he certainly remembers the more-than-slight guilt the time Justin had, and JC’d secretly smiled to himself. The Golden Boy wasn’t perfect, after all. JC was on his way to craft services when he stopped in the bathroom and heard sniffling coming from one of the stalls. He found Justin there, knees pulled to his chest, eyes red and puffy and leaking. Justin scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands and ducked his head. JC reached out and touched his knee and told him it was okay. Justin nodded, eyes meeting JC’s.

"It’s so hard," Justin whispered through trembling lips. "They don’t like me."

"Everyone likes you," JC lied. He knew for a fact that he and Tony and Keri had done Justin impressions on more than one occasion, but he also knew what it felt like to be the new kid, the one no one liked. Justin dealt with it better than most. JC had almost quit the time he heard people giggling behind his back, and then he’d regretted it for weeks that everyone had seen him crying over it. His heart went out to the kid.

"I practice and practice," Justin went on, "all night if I have to. I can’t mess up. I just… can’t."

JC wasn’t going to tell anyone he’d found Justin crying.

JC smiled. "It doesn’t have to be perfect all the time. You’re allowed to forget a line." He laughed to himself. "I do."

"Yeah, but everyone knows you’re good," Justin said. He’d stopped crying, but his knees were still pulled to his chest.

"You’re good. And maybe if you stop worrying about what everyone thinks, they’ll notice. You’ll notice."

Justin had stopped worrying, and he’d gotten his strut back, and his perfect, flippant grin, and JC had gone back to disliking him for a while. Until Justin worked his way under JC’s skin again by deciding JC was the one he could confide in.

And so it went, back and forth.

Now, as Justin sleeps, JC sees that soft, vulnerable side that Justin showed for the first time in the bathroom on the Disney Studios lot. It’s come a lot less often, lately, as success has sharpened him, buffed his confident smile, encouraged the flip of his eyebrow he uses now to tell the world that he is great.

JC wants to shake Justin by the shoulders, sometimes, and take him back to that afternoon when he’d first realized he wasn’t perfect.

Chris has noticed JC’s growing irritation, but he thinks it’s because Justin gets more credit nowadays. "Hey," Chris says, his hand warm on JC’s arm, "we’ll release one of yours as our next single, okay?" Maybe, on some level, it is.

JC knows that if any one of them should be angry about lack of attention, it shouldn’t be him. He also knows that Justin’s the only one of them who craves attention, so that part’s okay. He’s not sure why he’s so mad at Justin these days. He really hasn’t changed. Neither has JC, that he can see, so he’s baffled by the heat that flares up in his chest when Justin strolls onto the bus late and says "Okay, we can go now," like the world was waiting on him. Justin’s always been like that, and they have always waited for him.

He doesn’t talk to Justin until they get to New Mexico, and even then, it’s just a mumbled "excuse me" as he steps off the bus.

Justin finally notices the cold shoulder four and a half hours later, after their show. He knocks on JC’s door, not using his usual knock because he’s afraid JC won’t open up. JC does pull the door open, though, and his mouth is set tight as his eyes fall on Justin.

"Can I come in?" he asks, wringing his hands.

"I’m sleeping," JC answers, but Justin knows he’s lying because JC would never wake up to a soft knock like that. Justin walks in past JC.

"What did I do?" he asks. His eyes are wide and dark, and he suddenly looks twelve.

"Nothing." JC sighs. "Nothing at all."

Justin’s hands twist in the bedspread. "Okay."

"Go to sleep, Justin." JC hasn’t left the door. He’s still holding it open.

"Okay." Justin stands and leaves.

JC barks at Justin for using the end of the toilet paper and snaps at him for coming in early on "This I Promise You" during rehearsal.

Justin’s starting to get mad back. Chris and Lance and Joey can see it in his eyes. They don’t understand what’s going on, but they can feel it.

When JC yells at Justin to quit goofing off with Chris and fucking take this seriously, something in Justin snaps. He turns slowly, his muscles still tight from wrestling with Chris. Everything in the room falls silent.

"What is your fucking problem, JC?" Justin asks, inches away. "What did I do? Tell me, because this doesn’t make sense!"

"Quit being so goddamn arrogant," JC hisses, and that’s it. That’s all it takes. Justin pushes JC’s shoulders, hard. JC’s back hits the mirror and Chris winces, thinking it might break. Lance starts to edge towards the door and Chris backs up against the wall, but no one makes an escape.

"Not everyone’s perfect like you," Justin spits in his face, and JC flinches.

"What?"

"God, JC, we can’t all live up to Joshua Chasez’s Golden Standard. I’ve been trying for years, and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of always being second-best." He pushes JC again, but there is nowhere for him to go.

"What?" JC repeats.

Justin’s face is twisted up. Chris can see it in the mirror, right next to JC’s head.

Justin has lost some of his venom, but not enough to calm down. "You’re perfect. You’re the perfect musician, the perfect songwriter, the perfect producer, the perfect artist, the perfect friend, the perfect son and brother and everything. We can’t all be like you, JC. It doesn’t come that naturally to everyone else."

JC is obviously confused, but he’s pinned between the mirrored wall and Justin. Somehow, in that tight space he can’t gather the words together to make sense of them. He can taste another "What?" on his lips, but he keeps the third one inside.

Suddenly, Justin is kissing him. JC’s head knocks back against the mirror and his arms are held against the glass by Justin’s strong hands and the only choice he has in the matter is whether or not to kiss back.

Justin’s mouth is hot and strong and desperate against his. He lets himself be kissed while his brain processes everything, and then his body is arching away from the wall and pressing against Justin’s and Justin loosens his grip on JC’s arms and touches his chest, instead.

Finally, Justin pulls away, turns quickly, and presses his hand to his mouth. He doesn’t see JC reach out on instinct, from the sudden absence of Justin. "I’m sorry," he says without looking at anyone, and is out the door.

JC stands, dazed, and blinks at the other three guys. Chris goes after Justin. Joey says, "Whoa."

That night, JC knocks on Justin’s door. Three short raps. Justin opens the door, looking worn out. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does JC.

JC sits on the bed and turns off the TV. He just looks at Justin.

"I’m sorry," Justin repeats.

"What for?" JC asks, and he really isn’t sure why Justin’s apologizing.

"For… for everything." He studies his hands, then sits on one of his feet. "I didn’t mean what I said, but sometimes, JC, sometimes it’s so hard to be in your shadow." JC’s confusion is evident, so Justin goes on. "Even from the beginning, I was trying to be like you. Trying to be as good as you. I look at you and you’re everything. Everything I wish I was." JC swallows. Justin’s voice is raw and tired.

Something in JC flips, and he sees that vulnerable Justin sitting before him. And even though everything that has been said is still a jumble in his brain, even though he can’t understand why Justin feels the way he does, he sympathizes with him. Even though JC feels like he’s spent enough time recently fighting to get out of Justin’s shadow, recognizes that now, this isn’t about that.

JC touches Justin’s knee. "Stop worrying what everyone thinks and maybe you’ll notice that you already are."

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