Next to the next to the last.

This show, then one more, then one more, and then that's it - no more band. No more endless tours filled with empty hours of travel. No more ridiculous press junkets with the same questions over and over again. No more making nice with the guys while you swallow your anger at them.

That anger...it used to go down easier. At first it was because you were young, and forgave easily; then it was because you had Joey to help you, Joey to fill your throat with something else. Then Joey became part of the anger too, and now sometimes it sticks in your throat, makes you want to scream hatred and frustration at him - at all the guys.

But you don't.

Instead, you'll get through this show, and the next, and the next, and then you'll be free. The solo careers will start - or fail to start. Life will resume a normal pace, a pace you've only tasted in snippets over the past seven years.

So you can ignore it when JC goes flat. You can shrug it off when Lance is late on his entrance because he spaced out. You can definitely pretend not to notice when Justin gets all the attention, no matter what he does - hell, you've been practicing that for years.

You can do it all for three more shows, and wear a chipper smile for the girls and a cocky attitude for the cameras. Because there's just this one, and the next, and the next.