The water was so hot it almost scalded Lance's skin, but he stood beneath the shower anyway and felt the soap from his hair drip into his eyes and sting. It hurt, sure, but at least it allowed him to feel alive...to feel real. Lance spent too much of his life feeling like he wasn't real.

The water began to run cold, and he was sure he was gonna catch hell from Joey for using the bus' supply of hot water. Even when you were the "biggest band in the world" your water still eventually ran cold in the shower.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he turned off the water and wrapped a white towel around his waist. He ran a hand across the steamy mirror, gazing at his reflection which was distorted by the steam, forcing his "Hollywood Smile," but that just made things look worse. False, just like he was becoming. Like *they* were becoming, even though he had always prided himself on the fact that they were real.

The gigantic wash of fame seemed to nibble away at that. A lie here, a small untruth there, and everything began to unravel. He felt a piece of himself slipping away each day.

The other guys didn't seem to be bothered by it. Justin obviously loved it, thriving on the attention. Pretty much anything that focused on the band, or more importantly, himself, in the news was considered marvelous no matter what the press happened to be saying.

Joey didn't depend on the media for happiness as much as Justin, but Lance had asked Joey one night after a party full of Hollywood phonies whether or not he ever thought about giving all this up, or if he wished it had never even begun. The look of complete shock on Joey's face couldn't be faked. "Are you crazy, man? Jesus, We're NSync!"

Chris hadn't really changed at all. Of all of them, Lance thought that Chris was the one who had stayed truest to himself. Chris was just happy that he and his family never would have to worry about money again, after all the years of being nothing, feeling like he was finally somebody.

Lance could never really tell what JC was thinking. Although if JC's appearance was any indication, Lance would bet that JC was just as unhappy as he was. JC had always been thin. Apparently the lucky bastard had been graced with a speedy metabolism. But there had always been a definition to his arms, his abs. Now JC just looked...hollow. Bordering on emaciated, looking almost frail, the bags under his eyes larger, his skin paler. When JC wasn't around, Lance often questioned the other guys whether JC's new look had something to do with the fact that he seemed to stay up all hours writing new music, or if it had to do with something on a much deeper level.

Taking a final glance in the mirror, Lance stepped out of their tiny bathroom, wishing that Joey, Chris, and Justin hadn't convinced him that a night on the town in was just what he needed to lose the discontent he'd been feeling for the last month or so.

Fifteen minutes later, Lance found himself casually dressed and standing at the front of Chris' bus, strumming his fingers impatiently as he waited for Chris to put the finishing touches on his hair."C'mon, old man. By the time we get anywhere your hair will have turned gray."

Chris mumbled some retort, and Lance rolled his eyes, wandering over to JC's bunk to see if maybe he wanted to come out with them.

The curtain to JC's bunk was drawn, and although it wasn't unusual for JC to be in bed at any hour of the day, JC almost always slept with the curtain open, always complaining about how he felt claustrophobic with it closed.

He heard a noise, something sounding suspiciously like a sob muffled under a pillow. Lance momentarily panicked. JC was crying. In five years Lance had never seen JC cry. Not when they were all homesick in Europe, not during the lawsuit. Never. He wasn't sure he would know what to say if he was faced with a crying JC.

Chris picked the worst possible time to come out of the bathroom, doing a little swagger with his hips. "How to ah look, darlink?" he asked, in a horrible European accent, batting his eyelashes. Lance would have smiled, had he not been worried.

"You're gonna have to count me out tonight, I'm sorry."

Chris' expression turned quickly to shock. "What are you talking about, man? You're all dressed up. Let's go."

"I can't," Lance replied, searching for a feasible reason, trying not to tip off Chris, or JC who must be able to hear, that he knew about JC's predicament. "I'm just..not feeling well." Sometimes his talent for lying failed him.

Chris glowered. "Fine, man. Do whatever." He stomped past him, adding "I swear, you're getting as bad a JC. You're both turning into fucking housewives." Then he turned on his heel, and stepped off the bus. Lance looked after him for a moment, knowing that Chris would be all smiles and probably apologetic in the morning. He tended to blow up and then be fine again a few hours later.

Lance turned his attentions back to JC's bunk.

"Jayce?" he asked quietly. Feeling a little silly, he knocked on the side of the bunk. "Is everything okay in there?"

The sound of rustling came from behind the curtain, a thump, and finally a quiet "ouch" as JC, apparently startled sat up too fast and hit his head on the ceiling. "What is it, Lance?"

"Just wanted to make sure that things are goin' okay. You've been a little scarce today."

He was met with a long silence from the other side of the curtain. He heard JC take a deep breath, and finally the curtain was pulled back.

"Hey, man. I thought you were going out." JC was absolutely horrible at hiding any emotions, and Lance studied his face carefully. Complexion pale, hair limp around his neck, and eyes red-rimmed, JC was wearing a smile so forced that Lance thought the sides around his mouth might crack at any second.

JC obviously needed to talk, but in Lance's experience, JC could blab on about anything and nothing when it came to music and the band, until it came to something personal, when he had a tendency to shut himself up like a clam.

Lance's mind went into overdrive trying to figure out what exactly to say. He figured he stared at JC a little too long when JC said "what?" with a worried expression. Lance mentally shrugged and decided that it was easiest to dive right in.

"JC. Just spill already."

"Everything's fine. What's your problem, man?" JC asked, eyes downcast.

"No offence, but you look like hell."

JC didn't meet his eyes, ran a shaky hand through his hair and replied, "Jeez. Thanks a lot, Bass."

Lance shrugged. "Something is obviously going on. Now either you can tell me what it is right now, or I'll just stand here and wait until you do. And you know I have an infinite amount of patience."

JC gave an exaggerated sigh of annoyance, but scooted back on his bunk leaving room for Lance to sit down beside him. He gave Lance the briefest glance, then looked back down at his hands, wringing his fingers. "I'm just...tired, I guess."

"Tired? JC, nobody sleeps more than you."

JC shot Lance a small sad smile.

"Not like, sleep deprived tired." There was an unfamiliar edge of frustration in JC's voice. "I can't explain it." He fidgeted with his the necklace around his neck for a moment "I'm tired of all...this. Everything." JC paused for a moment, waiting for Lance to comment. When he didn't, he sighed, running his hands though his hair once more.

"Look, it's just, sometimes things get so huge and I don't know how to act. I lie in this bunk and I think that I'd like to have a normal life just for one weekend, and then I realize that I can't even remember what normal is. You know how scary that is?" He shot Lance a troubled glance.

"Normal for me is meetings, and rehearsals, and screams every time I exit a room. Sometimes it just makes me tired, like I haven't really slept in months. It's just getting to me."

Lance wrapped his arms around JC tightly. "JC, I understand, man. We have the same life, remember?"

JC nodded, leaning into the embrace. Lance was quiet for a few minutes. "You know what we need?" He jumped off the bunk and pulled JC down with him. "A change. C'mon, JC. For one night, we're gonna be normal." He looked at JC with a critical eye. "When was the last time you ate?"

~~~~~~~

"Lance, I'm not so sure this is such a great idea," said JC, peering from behind his dark sunglasses.

"JC, we're in god-knows-where middle America, and it's 10:30 at night. I just spent twenty minutes convincing our bus driver to drive us here. I don't think we're gonna get into life threatening danger if we just run in and grab something to eat. Now come on."

Standing in the McDonald's, JC looked around nervously. He suddenly remembered what it was like to be 5 years old, when going to McDonald's was a massive treat. Apparently, even in twenty years, the smell of McDonald's hadn't changed.

When JC reached the counter and ordered, the girl behind the counter barely cast him a bored second glance when she asked "And what kind of drink would you like with that?"

JC grinned at Lance.

Lance grinned back and said, "Hey, Skinnyman. I think you should supersize it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They ate in the back of the restaurant hunched over their food, sharing private smiles, expecting Lonnie to come in and bust them any minute. JC was just slurping up the last of his strawberry milkshake when he noticed the playground with its pit full of brightly coloured plastic balls.

Lance caught JC's wistful look. "You done?"

JC nodded.

"Okay. C'mon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lance. I'm gonna puke, man," JC managed to choke out through his laughter.

"No Mercy!" Lance yelled back, giving the merry-go-round JC was standing on another ruthlessly fast spin, sending JC into another fit of giggles. "You should see yourself. You're turning green."

JC made the mistake of trying to lunge at Lance right when Lance decided to give the merry-go-round yet another spin. He went flying off and rolled onto the nearby grass. Lance was momentarily worried until he heard JC's laughter again and watched him bolt up and head for the nearest slide. JC raced up the ladder and hurl himself down on his stomach, a silly grin plastered on his face the entire time.

Lance smiled to himself. JC looked happier then he had in months.

"Race you to the swings!" JC called, and soon they were involved in a heated contest over who could swing the highest. It ended when Lance protested that JC had an unfair weight advantage. "You're like 30 pounds lighter than me, man. You're cheating."

Panting with overexertion, JC checked his watch. "I can't believe it. I'm not even tired. It's too bad the movie theatres are closed by now, or we could have gone and seen something. I'm sick of everything we have to watch on the bus."

Lance raised his eyebrows at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lance, you are aware that we live on a bus, right? It's not like we can rent something and return it tomorrow," said JC.

Lance's eyes scanned the shelves at the local Blockbuster. "Jayce. I think we make enough money that it's okay to splurge and actually buy a video now and then." Lance walked up to the counter with several movies in his hands.

"What have you got?"

"Classics. You'll like 'em."

~~~~~

"If I lose my temper, you're totaled man!"
"Totally?"
"Totally!"

"The freakin' Breakfast Club, man. You sure know how to pick 'em."

"Tell me you're not loving it."

JC shot Lance a grin back. "I am. I really am. Cause, you know, Judd Nelson. He's the coolest, man."

"Freak."

"Yeah."

"In a good way."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"No. I mean it. Thanks...for all of this."

Lance just smiled.

~~~~~

Lance was still smiling two hours later with JC curled around his body all warm and comfortable, the look of peace on his face unmistakable.

Lance liked falling asleep with JC. Brushing a kiss across JC's tousled hair, Lance knew that JC wasn't the only one who wanted to be normal for a night.