"So, who's the biggest liar?" - Jay Leno, July 23, 2001

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Europe was still a novelty to them when Justin had offered Lance breakfast. It wouldn't have been noteworthy but for the fact that Applejacks were pretty scarce in Germany. There were Rice Krispies, Frosted Flakes, and more Muesli than you could poke a really big stick at, but no one seemed to want to import Applejacks.

Justin wasn't the most social in the mornings and the other guys were still sleeping off a night of debauchery. Lance was poking at his hard roll, drifting, thinking about rehearsal and the dance steps that he dreamt about sometimes. He wished that Justin would talk, because the silence could be overwhelming, and it was almost like that wish snapped things into place.

"You want some cereal?"

Lance shook himself out of his reverie, making a little grunt of noncomprehension at Justin.

Justin pushed the Applejacks toward him, smiling a little bit and Lance blinked at the casual offer. He hated Applejacks, had hated them ever since making himself sick on his mom's applecake back when he was in kindergarten. He didn't like sour apple jolly ranchers, didn't like apple cider and outright detested applecake.

But Justin was looking at him, friendly and bright, like it wasn't 7:30 in the morning, and it was one of the first really friendly gestures he'd made. Justin preferred to goof around with Chris and pester Joey, all puppyish hijinks.

So Lance smiled, "Um, yeah. Sure." and poured a bowl of cereal. He managed to smile and nod as he stirred the cereal, waiting for it to get soggy enough that he wouldn't have to chew it too much. As he ate, that morning, he didn't feel sick anymore, because the applejacks tasted like acceptance. Quite frankly, they didn't even taste like apples at all.

After that first morning, Justin never really said anything, just pushed the box of cereal over, and smiled when Lance poured himself some. Two mornings later, Justin dished out the last of that box.

He assured Lance, "Don't worry, dude. Expecting a care package any day, and then we'll have more." He grimaced at the healthy cereal sitting on the hotel breakfast table.

They had more by the next morning, and Lance found himself caught up in Justin's joy. He was starting to like Applejacks, savoring the cinnamony milk. That morning was the one that the other guys woke up and decided that they weren't too hungover for breakfast.

They came piling in, all sleepy cranky exuberance and flopped down at the table. Joey poked at the rolls, and Lance was oddly happy that Justin didn't offer him any Applejacks, until Joey actually took the time to focus on the two of them.

"Lance. Dude. What the hell are you eating?"

Justin took offense on behalf of his beloved cereal. "Lance and me, we're eating Applejacks. *We* don't have to eat those crappy rolls." Reverting back to his customary morning sulks, Justin still took the time to grin at Lance.

Joey stared from one to the other. Lance wished more than anything that he'd never explained the apple phobia back when Joey offered him a wedge of apple pie, all homemade and juicy, a present from one of the cooks in his family.

"But... Lance hates apples."

Lance shoveled the cereal into his mouth, staring at the milk, hoping that Joey would just shut the hell up. He didn't. Before the last little O was scooped up, Joey had told the whole story, and everyone was laughing, not meanly, just... at him. Again.

"Guys. C'mon. They don't even taste like apples. They're just all sweet and... crunchy." They were too busy laughing at Joey's imitation of Lance puking to listen to him.

He didn't meet Justin's eyes for the rest of the day, until Justin slid by him in the hallway, and grabbed him before he could duck into the shower room.

"You don't have to eat my cereal, yo." And he slipped away. Lance never had a chance to tell him that he did, in fact, like the cereal.

The next morning, when he grabbed the Applejacks, Justin just reached over and took them back, without saying a word. Lance grabbed a sticky danish off the buffet and didn't want it after the first bite. He wanted cold milk and crunchy cinnamon.

He wound up back on his bunk, staring at the ceiling.

~end part one~