Lance hates JC today, hates all of them with some regularity. It's not that any of his close friends are bad people, of course, quite the opposite. He hates them more, in fact, than if they lied, cheated, stole, murdered.

It's JC's turn today, just because his beauty is so intense that it's sharp and deadly. Lance yearns for Europe, back before JC grew into himself and became this gorgeous stranger. He used to be able to hold conversations with JC, instead of just staring, caught up in wanting to touch, to stroke along sharp cheekbones and tug on strands of hair.

Lance wakes early most days, and sometimes he stands in front of the mirror, eyes closed. It's almost a game even though he knows the ending. He stands there naked, and always dreams that when he opens his eyes he'll be graceful and delicate. He's always oddly disappointed.

He knows that, for some reason, a lot of girls and probably guys too, would pay money to be there, to see what he's seeing, but he still doesn't know why. When he strokes a hand down his chest, he's glad that most of the fat is gone, but he still sees solid, stocky, nothing special.

It's the mornings when Lance looks in the mirror that he hates JC.

Joey was easy to despise yesterday, because they had an interview. Justin talks too much on television, Lance usually thinks, and JC babbles and Chris shows his alien heritage, but Joey during an interview is usually amazing. He seems to be equipped with some inner barometer telling him exactly when to be quiet and when to smile warmly and talk.

Lance usually sits in the back and wonders if he's internalized his role in the group to the rest of his world. He's in interviews for backup, too. He manages to speak concisely and occasionally with humor, but he's never really been comfortable, not the way Joey seems to be.

On those sorts of days, Lance tries to sit near Joey, likes it when he can feel the press of Joey's thigh against his and he can pretend that some of that calm will rub off. He tells himself that he won't perch on the very edge of his seat and leave one foot free just in case, but he always does, just like he looks over at Joey, curled up on himself and smiling and hates him.

Justin's the easiest to hate, because he's so completely and totally self centered. He's not selfish, not at all, but he's self-aware, comfortable inside himself and always perfectly in touch with what he should be doing. Lance hated Justin long before he hated the others, mostly because when this all started, Justin was two years younger, but immeasurably older and assured.

The worst is that Justin's beauty is secondary to who he is, and Lance thinks that even if his facial features were less perfect or his abs were less developed, he'd still be a star. He's never worked for the respect that people give him, and he laps up the adulation of the crowds like it's all that he'd ever need.

It really doesn't matter whether they're alone and JC's fetching Justin a beer and Joey's rubbing his feet or whether they're standing and signing autographs for hours. Lance doesn't think that Justin ever feels the claustrophobia, the need to get away, the feeling that he'll smother if he smiles one more time.

Justin's comfortable in the spotlight, and when Lance feels squirmy and misses being able to walk on the streets, the envy translates into something that feels like anger. Lance doesn't feel uncomfortable on the days he hates Justin.

He doesn't hate Chris often, but when he does it's frantic and bitter, not the dull ache he associates with the other guys. He knows that Chris struggles with JC's beauty and Justin's perfection, although Joey's glib composure in the spotlight doesn't quite bother him. Mostly, Lance feels kinship.

Lance does hate Chris when he's so obviously unafraid of anything. In a world that seems to be focused on making them something that they're not, will never be, Chris is unequivocally himself, braids, pug dogs and bizarrely colored clothes. Public relations has almost stopped trying to guide Chris's interactions with the world and Lance hates Chris for being strong enough to make his wishes matter, every time he smiles his interview smile and recites his memorized answer.

Chris rides his motorcycle with glee, eats weird concoctions of food, and kisses Lance when he's sober. He doesn't hate Chris when they're twined together, or when Chris's hands are swiping hot paths down his sides. It happens afterward, when they're separated and everyone's smiling at them, and Lance wishes he was drunk so he could kiss Chris again.

He hates Chris, paradoxically, when he's drunk and he feels alone, and he's not quite sure whether the sick feeling is from too much vodka or not enough love. It's even worse when Chris takes the sickness away, laughing softly and telling him that one day he won't have to be drunk to make the first move, while his hands pet the hatred away.

Lance doesn't like himself when he hates, but sometimes he thinks that he'd go crazy if he didn't.

~end~