Fic: JC and the Magical Amulet of Doom | popslash | JuC
Happy JuC Day everyone!!
JC and the Magical Amulet of Doom
Fandom: Popslash
Pairing: JC/Justin
Rating: Adult
Comments: Written for juc_day! Many thanks to withdiamonds and raynedanser for their help. Also to Joss Whedon for providing me with so many convenient plot ideas. And for just being awesome in general.
Summary: JC finds a magical amulet and loses his memory. Chaos ensues.
What happens is pretty simple, really. Well, okay, finding a magic amulet ("It’s not a fucking pansy-ass amulet, okay? It's a necklace. We don't live in the fifteenth century, fuckwad," Chris insisted at the time, but whatever, JC totally thinks it looks like an amulet, it's all big and shiny and purple and, and amuletty) that makes you forget everything ever, including who's president and the capital of Botswana, which JC totally knew before no matter what Lance says, isn't exactly simple. Actually, finding the amulet is pretty simple. What the amulet does, sort of the opposite. Chris keeps telling him he must've done it on purpose just to make everyone else's life harder, but JC's pretty sure that's not true. Or he would be, except that he can't remember.
What happens is this. JC is JC, and he's doing his JC thing, pretending to work on his album and agonizing over the final mixes and thinking that really, it all just sucks and he should start over and who wants to be a popstar, anyway? Being a popstar is so 1990s, and JC prefers to live in the now, and also all the rejection makes him sad and annoying and bitchy, even to himself. He should be, like, an accountant or something instead.
When he finds himself calling up his DSL company's tech support just so that he can yell at someone without feeling guilty about it and ends up making some poor girl in Texas cry and offer him two free months' of service, he knows that something has to be done. And also, yay for free DSL, because that shit is way too expensive, especially considering how long it takes just to download some basic porn.
So something needs to be done, but JC's not sure what, so he decides to take a few weeks off from all of the, well, from nothing, really, because Jive is raping him in a not good way. Not that there's really a good way to rape someone. JC doesn't condone it or whatever, but he can see how people might have certain fantasies, consenting adults, and so on. Pretend rape could be good, maybe, if the guy is hot enough. Which no one at Jive is, so, yeah. Rape is bad, JC has firmly established this in his head, and it's time to figure some shit out, so he goes home and has a good think.
And then he hears Chris on the radio, and everything gets much, much worse.
"Nah," Chris tells the DJ, "I'm not Lance's type. Lance likes good-looking guys." Stupid Chris. Stupid Chris and his stupid wittiness, and stupid Lance because Chris is totally right, and if that's the case, then why hasn't Lance ever hit on him? He calls Lance to find out.
"Dude, you've been gay for a while now, right?"
"Uh. JC? What the hell are you talking about, man?"
"I'm just saying. Okay. You've been gay for a long time. Like, years and years. And you never hit on me, not even once. What's up with that? Because gay guys hit on me all the time, Lance. All the time. So, it's not me. It's gotta be something wrong with you."
"Thanks, JC. Because I'm sure that me not lusting after your ass clearly means I'm wrong in the head. It's probably a sign of the apocalypse. I hope you have your pantry stocked up, because, dude-obviously the end of the world."
"Shut up. You know what I mean. I'm a hot guy. I'm good-looking and stuff, right? And you're gay, you're totally gay, so what the fuck? That's all I'm saying."
"JC, you're demented. And good-looking, okay, does that make you happy? I'm very sorry I never tried to tap that."
"Thanks," JC says quietly. He feels a little better, maybe. Lance thinks he's good-looking. Lance wishes he could do JC right now, probably. Poor Lance, he doesn't get to.
"But JC, I never thought you'd want me to."
"Because I'm not gay?"
Lance snorts, which JC finds mildly offensive and almost hangs up on Lance just on the principle of the thing, because he totally does like girls, sometimes, as long as their boobs aren't too big and he can do them from behind with his eyes closed. But he really sort of wants to hear what Lance has to say, so. "Lance?"
He laughs again, a little laugh of disbelief. "Because you're in love with Justin, you retard."
"I'm not a retard," JC says. "I read Scientific American, I'm totally smart." He pauses, chews his thumbnail a little, thinks that that's a stupid reason to not hit on someone despite that someone being totally hot. Justin is always ruining things like that, he's just a big ruiner of everything, and also. Oh, right. "And also, I am not in love with Justin. That's just. Stupid. It's totally stupid."
"Uh huh. Look, I'm sort of on vacation here, so I don't really feel like pretending to believe you and getting a lecture about how you and Justin are just friends and no one is gay except me, and how strap-ons don't count because it's still a girl. You're pretty gay, you're in love with Justin, and I have absolutely no desire to fuck you, sorry."
"Lance," JC says, staring at the sky nervously. It's looking a little funny, maybe more purple than usual, and he's pretty sure it could start falling at any moment. It has that look to it. Not that JC really knows what the sky falling looks like, but probably it's just like this. Lance doesn't want him. That's just sad. "It's not really the apocalypse, is it?"
Lance hangs up on him. Damn it.
*
So what happens next is, JC does the only thing he can think of doing, which is going to Chris's house, drinking all his alcohol, and hiding out in his creepy attic full of random crap that JC is pretty sure isn't even Chris's. Because seriously, if the apocalypse is coming, JC wants to be prepared. And drunk. Very, very drunk.
Also, he's not in love with Justin. That's just. It's retarded, is what it is. No, Lance is retarded. He's like, the most retarded person JC can even think of, and JC knows Nick Carter, so that's pretty damned retarded. Plus, Lance probably isn't even gay if he can honestly say he doesn't want to do JC. JC is hot, gay men the world over want to do him, so Lance is either retarded or a liar, and in any case, totally wrong about the Justin thing.
Not that Justin isn't hot. Justin's hot, of course he is. JC would totally have sex with Justin just on general principle, because unlike Lance, JC isn't retarded or a liar and he's willing to admit when he wants to tap that. But JC's not, like, in love with Justin. Justin is a brat, and more famous than JC and also his music sort of sucks, so really, JC could never love him like that. JC loves him like a brother. A brother he'd theoretically like to have sex with if that brother wasn't pretending to be mostly straight, sure, but a brother. Which is sort of gross when JC thinks about it too much, because incest is like rape, in that it's bad and pretty disgusting, but it's not like they share blood and they can't like, birth freaky flipper babies or anything, so it's not that bad.
JC is really, really drunk. Gin never tasted so good as when there's a looming apocalypse on the horizon.
But in any case, Lance is still retarded and wrong. JC's not in love with Justin. In fact, he's pretty sure he hates Justin right now. Justin's the one who said, "Dude, a baby mama drama song is just what you need!" so JC is pretty sure this whole thing where his album sucks and is never coming out and he'll never be a famous popstar again is totally Justin's fault. So yeah. Not in love. Like, at all.
It's when JC is finishing up Chris's bottle of gin that he finds the amulet. It's big and purple and gold and in horrible taste, which is so totally Chris that JC maybe starts to cry a little. Chris is still in LA doing promo and Lance is on vacation (from what, JC can't even begin to guess because it's not like Lance has a job or whatever) and Justin is on tour and Joey is learning to be a ballroom dancer. He maybe misses them a lot, and misses being in NSync and people actually hearing his music. He misses not having to be all desperate and pathetic and visit tiny radio stations that won't play his song anyway. JC cries a little more, and hugs the amulet and starts on the vodka and thinks, it's all Justin's fault and he's so not in love with Justin at all, because it's all Justin's fault and also, vodka tastes a lot better when he's already lost all feeling in his mouth.
He licks at his teeth because there's no feeling there, either, takes another long pull from the vodka bottle, and lies down on the dusty attic floor. Or maybe it's the ceiling. Well, the second-story ceiling, but whatever, this thinking thing is too hard sometimes, and JC hopes Chris comes back soon. Chris makes the best eggs and bacon and coffee out of all of them, which isn't really saying anything since the only one of them who can cook is Joey, and he only makes pasta and calzones and other stereotypical Italian things, which is maybe mean but they're called stereotypes for a reason, and damnit, JC wants Joey. He wants Chris and Joey and Lance to come and drink with him and make him food, and not Justin because it's all Justin's fault, but the rest of them are good. He misses them.
JC falls asleep with the amulet clutched in one hand and the half-empty vodka bottle in the other thinking, yeah, but really, he's a vodka bottle half-full kind of guy.
*
It doesn't happen all at once, which is maybe the most frustrating thing about the whole Magic Amulet of Memory Loss thing. In fact at first, they all just think JC got really drunk and blacked out, which is why he doesn't remember how he ended up passed out in Chris's attic next to a puddle of puke, surrounded by empty bottles formerly containing booze.
"Dude, you are one lucky fucker you didn't end up in my bed," Chris says when he wakes JC up the next afternoon by poking him repeatedly in the ribs with his shoe, "because I would've choked your skinny ass if you hadn't already drowned in your own vomit by the time I found you."
Chris makes him eggs and bacon and coffee, which is nice because Chris is best at the breakfast thing, and then kicks JC out because "the guys" are coming over to work on some stuff. JC feels pretty fuzzy, and he seems to have acquired a really ugly amulet-looking thing, but he leaves and finds his way home and doesn't ask who "the guys" are. He thought they were the guys, him and Joey and Lance and Justin, but apparently Chris has other guys now, which is just weird. And wrong. It makes JC sniffly, so he calls Joey, because Joey isn't good at breakfast, but he is good at cheering people up.
"Joey," JC says, trying not to sniffle too much because he doesn't want Joey super worried, just worried enough to give JC some attention and maybe say nice things about his hair. "Since when does Chris have new guys?"
"Wait, what? Is Chris gay now, too? No one tells me these things. I'm always just walking in and woops! There's the gay. It's not fair, okay? You guys need to just tell me when you're gay."
"I thought." JC frowns and rubs his forehead, collapses on his couch which, weird, he thought his couch was white yesterday and now it's not. It's red now, that's pretty freaky, and also kind of ugly. "I thought we didn't talk about that. Wait, who did you walk in on? Was it Justin? He always seemed really gay to me."
Joey laughs. "Dude, are you fucking with me? Did Lance put you up to this? He knows it's against the rules to use you against me."
"I don't." JC can't seem to finish his sentences. He's feeling very confused and even more fuzzy than before, which is just wrong because he had, like, five cups of coffee at Chris's house, and then he tries to run his fingers through his hair and there's nothing there. Well, that's not true. There's something, but it's all weird and short and it feels like gel and maybe a bit of vomit is in it too. JC squeaks a little and runs to the bathroom, Joey babbling on in his ear about the rules and Lance and "I'm gonna get him back so bad when he gets back next week." JC thinks, did Lance already go to space? Did he totally miss Lance blasting himself into space somehow? Because like, JC zones out a lot and there are entire days he can't remember what the fuck he did, but he thinks he'd remember Lance in space. Probably. And then he sees himself in the mirror, screams, and drops the phone.
"JC? Dude, what's wrong? Hello??"
"Joey," JC whispers, grabbing the phone from the sink and staring suspiciously at his reflection in the mirror, because that is totally not him and something really freaky has happened, he's like, been body snatched or something. Or like, it's like that movie with Kirk Cameron in it that JC only saw because Kirk was fucking hot as hell even if he is a scary born again Christian guy. Body switch. Body snatched. SOMETHING. It looks sort of like him. But old. And severely lacking in pretty, pretty hair.
"JC, what's going on?"
"Joey, I have to go. Someone stole my body. And my hair. Which is on my body, which I am not in because this isn't my body. Joey. My HAIR. Is GONE. I have to go."
He hangs up on Joey's confused laughter and narrows his eyes at his reflection. "I don't know who you are or what you did to my hair, you fucker, but I'm going to find out, and then you'll be sorry."
*
It turns out that JC hasn't been body snatched at all, and actually chose to do this horrible, tragic thing to his own hair. No one cut it off while he was sleeping as some terrible, really mean joke, not even Chris, who once tried to dye Justin's hair pink in his sleep. JC did it to himself. Obviously, JC thinks, he went through a period of self-loathing. He's sort of happy he can't seem to remember it, but at least it's better than being a secret cutter. Those people write the worst songs.
"But Chris," JC whispers into his phone, still staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, "why would I cut my hair? It was pretty! It was perfect. And now my nose looks huge. Did my nose get bigger? Did I have a reverse nose job?"
"Dude, you just have a huge nose, I thought you were over that."
"But the hair made it look almost normal-sized and now it's GONE and why would I do that? This is like. It's tragic, is what it is. It's a disaster. A disaster and a travesty! It's like. Like those starving kids in Africa with the weird, huge bellies and tiny tiny arms. I can't believe-hang on, my phone is beeping. Why is my phone beeping?"
"Call waiting, fuckwad."
JC looks at his phone display. "Who's Eric? Do I know an Eric? Maybe he's the body snatcher."
"No one snatched your body, you freak. Eric, as in your manager, Eric?"
"What happened to Carlos?"
"That's a good question. Why don't you tell me?"
"No, I said you should tell me!"
Chris makes a huffing sound and hangs up on him, so JC suddenly has this Eric person in his ear all, "JC, you asshole, you were supposed to call in to the radio station twenty minutes ago!"
"Oh, um, sorry, I just-"
"Forgot? Big surprise. It's fine, I'm patching you through."
"Wait, I-"
"JC Chasez?"
"Um. Yes?"
"Good to have you with us, man. It's been a minute. How're you doing?"
"I woke up in Chris's attic, I think I still have vomit in my hair, which is much shorter and worse-looking than it used to be, so uh. Not that well, actually." JC is pretty rattled. Eric sounds like a very mean person, and JC doesn't know what happened to Carlos, who was never mean and made him burritos whenever he wanted them, even super late at night. Eric probably wouldn't even make JC a butter sandwich. Eric probably forces him to eat gruel and clean toilets.
The DJs laugh. Like they think he's joking. JC glares at himself in the mirror. His nose really does look gigantic without all the pretty hair to take attention away.
"Sounds like a rough night. Chris, huh? Kirkpatrick? He's doing a show now, right?"
"Sure?"
"And what about Justin? How do you feel about all the crazy success he's had as a solo artist?"
"Justin who? Wait-Justin Timberlake? Since when did he do a solo project? No one tells me anything!"
More laughing. JC grits his teeth, these DJs are really annoying, and also, Justin did what now? Something is terribly, terribly wrong. It's not just a body snatching issue anymore. It's like. Like an alternate reality. Like on Buffy-a world without shrimp. And JC kind of likes shrimp so that would be bad, plus the fact that in this world, his hair sucks and his nose is huge and Justin went solo and Chris has a show? JC hates this world.
"You worked on this song with Justin, right? What was it like being in the studio with Justin again?"
JC's head hurts. This interview sucks and he maybe did some serious brain damage with all the drinking he did in Chris's attic that he can't even remember, because nothing makes sense anymore. He frowns. The no-shrimp world sucks. JC wants to go home.
"Justin's a bitch in the studio," JC says. He's feeling mean and nasty and he's pretty sure this is all Justin's fault anyway-things usually are. "He's such a brat, man, you don't even know. Everything has to be his way and he always wants to sing parts that are too high for him and then he ends up sounding like a goat. You know what I mean."
The DJs are silent for a minute, and then more laughing. "Okay then. So now, tell us about Lance Bass. He came out recently."
"Lance? Uh, I think he's on vacation or something. Or in Russia. I'm not really sure. Did I mention that I woke up in an attic?"
The DJ laughs. "He came out as a gay man, I mean."
What?! "What?!" JC says. No-shrimp world, he thinks to himself. No-shrimp world, things are different here, Lance is GAY? "No, seriously, Lance is gay? Are you sure about that?"
"Pretty sure. We had his People cover up on the bulletin board for a month!" The DJs all titter to themselves.
"Lance was on the cover of People?"
"Man, where have you been, JC?"
"I told you! In the attic!"
*
Eric cuts the interview off early, after JC rambles on for five minutes straight about 'Digital Getdown' and how it was ahead of its time and really all about the computer revolution and everyone else just has dirty minds, because "JC, you've gone psychotic or something. Don't talk to anyone until I get there. I mean it."
Which only freaks JC out more, because Eric seems mean and scary and so what if Chris said he's JC's manager, he's very pushy and has absolutely no sympathy about JC's hair and the resulting nose catastrophe. So JC does the only thing he can think of, which is to hide in his closet, call Justin, and whimper pathetically.
"Justin," JC says. "I need you to come over. Some guy called Eric is coming here and he sounds mean. He called me psychotic."
"Did you do something crazy?" Justin asks. Stupid Justin and his stupid logic.
"No! Well. I had an interview and I maybe said you were a bitch but I didn't mean it, okay? You're my best friend and I love you like a brother even though you went solo and this is like, some kind of horrible no-shrimp world where my hair is all short and stupid and I just want to go home."
"…wookay then. That answers that question."
"I'm not crazy, okay? I woke up in Chris's attic, and everything is different and I really hate this." JC starts to cry a little, because his head really does hurt and Justin thinks he's insane and Mean Eric is coming and who knows what he'll do to JC when he gets here. He could be big, and JC isn't a fighter. He's not even scrappy.
"JC. Just, okay. I'm gonna call Chris and Joey, and they're gonna take care of you, okay?"
"I want you." JC's feeling pretty petty. He sniffles a little and reminds himself that Justin has stupid hair, even worse than JC's is now, so at least there's that. "Why can't you come?"
"I'm on tour?"
"On your big solo project that you totally ditched us for?"
"Okay, seriously, I love you man, but there's something wrong and I'm pretty sure it's not shrimp, JC. Don't move. Stay there. Chris and Joey are coming over, and everything's gonna be okay."
"Whatever," JC says, and sniffles a little more. Then, "Thanks."
*
While he's waiting for Joey and Chris, whoever that is, to come over, JC has a sudden epiphany. Because if he's living in this weird no-shrimp world where everything sucks and he just happened to wake up with this ugly amulet thing around his neck, the solution is pretty obvious. The amulet is evil and magic, and destroying it will fix this terrible no-shrimp, bad hair world. Easy, and JC wishes he'd thought of it sooner, before he called Justin and cried.
JC takes the amulet off, sets it down on the closet floor, picks up a boot, and slams it down. The giant purple stone in the center cracks with a satisfying pop, and JC's pretty sure some magic powder floats out of it, but it's pretty dark in the closet so that could just be dust. He looks around hopefully, crawls out of the closet and heads for the bathroom mirror. Nothing's changed. His hair is still stupid, and also has vomit in it, and life still sucks.
Joey and Chris get there while JC is in the shower. They're waiting in JC's bedroom, and Joey isn't Joey at all and he has a beard and Chris is just some weird-looking guy that JC doesn't recognize at all aside from him making JC breakfast, even though Justin made it sound like JC should know him. JC guesses that since he woke up in the guy's attic and ate his food, Justin is maybe right about that. Chris is really short.
"JC. What the hell is wrong with you? Justin said something about you having a psychotic break and shrimp and being mean to him?" The Chris dude is giving JC the evil eye. He's very piratey, JC thinks. Chris should get an eye patch and go with it, because the current look is clearly not going to get him laid and at least that way, he'll have a conversation piece. He could maybe pass for a Viking, too, but Vikings are supposed to be tall, JC thinks. And blond.
JC feels himself about to cry again with all the staring and the accusations of craziness, which is not okay, so he glares instead and says, "Who the fuck are you people?"
*
It turns out that this isn't no-shrimp world at all. Which is great on the one hand, because JC really does like shrimp, but on the other, he's losing his memory. Which is pretty bad. By the time Justin and Lance get there the next day, he remembers his name, and that's about it. And mostly he's only pretending to remember that because Joey looked so sad when JC couldn't remember anything else that happened pre-attic, so yeah. It's pretty bad.
"This is fucking fucked up," Justin says. Justin, JC has noticed, likes to swear a lot. He's also pretty hot, but JC doesn't say that. He's sort of afraid to say much of anything after the interview debacle. He might get yelled at again. This no memory thing sucks.
"Thanks, Justin. I was just sitting here thinking how normal all this was, so that brilliant observation is really helping me sort this out in my head." Lance-the gay one, JC thinks-smirks a little and crosses his arms over his chest. Lance is kind of hot, too, actually, but he has a weird eye thing going on. Justin is very symmetrical.
"Guys, I think we're freaking him out," Joey says. "Maybe we should take him to the hospital?"
"No fucking way," Chris says. "The press'll be all over that shit and it's not like they'll tell us anything useful, so-"
"The press won't care if JC goes to the hospital," Justin says. "He lost his fucking memory, Chris. We can't just not take him to the hospital. There are things. Rules. When someone loses their mind, you take them to the hospital!"
"Fuck you, man!" Chris says. Yells. He looks pretty angry. Short, and angry, like a very small pirate. He should maybe get a parrot to go with the eye patch, just to make sure people get the look. "Just because he's not Justin fucking Timberlake doesn't mean-"
"That's not what I meant and-"
"Guys, come on," Joey says, and gives Lance a pleading look.
"I think Chris is right," Lance says, and Justin starts yelling at him too. None of them notice when JC stands up and waves his arms around.
"Hello! People! Guys!" JC sighs, glares at them. They ignore him to argue with each other, which is pretty rude, JC thinks, considering it's his crazy they're discussing. "I don't want to go to the hospital!"
Justin swivels his head, narrows his eyes. "JC. You can barely remember your own name! You need help, dude."
"I know my name, dude," JC tells him. "It's JC. Which, okay, I'm sure I love my mom and stuff, but that's a suckass name. It's a girl's name. Jaycie? But my point is, the hospital can't help because this is all the magic amulet's fault."
The guys look at each other like they're communicating silently, which JC hates because it's not fair and hey, maybe they're psychic. Maybe he's psychic too, but he can't remember. That would actually be pretty cool, if they were like, some sort of crime-fighting team of psychics banding together to save the world from unspeakable evil.
Lance clears his throat and they all stand up. "So, who's driving to the hospital?"
*
The doctors can't help. JC listens while they explain it to Justin and use big words like 'hysteria' and 'fugue state' that JC only half-way understands, although fugue sounds like the leftover steak sandwich you forget about and leave in the fridge for a month until it grows its own civilization in bacteria. But apparently it's all just doctor babble for 'JC is crazy and there's nothing we can do to help him.'
He tries to explain about the amulet, but no one listens. JC wonders if this is what it was like before, thinks it's no wonder that he ended up passed out in Chris's attic with the empty bottles and the vomit pool, if this is how he gets treated. Back at JC's house, Lance pulls out suitcases and starts packing up JC's stuff. JC watches him, thinking he has some pretty weird taste in clothes. It's all suits and vests and crap, and JC thinks, whatever happened to jeans and t-shirts? JC owns t-shirts, but they're all weird looking and none of them are pink. It feels wrong. JC's pretty sure he likes pink. It's really one of the few things he's sure about at this point.
"What are we gonna do with him?" Justin asks, picking at JC's bedspread and watching Lance and Chris debate over how many pairs of shoes to pack.
"I can't take him," Joey says, rolling his eyes and pushing Chris and Lance aside, grabbing some flip flops, a pair of sneakers, and some nicer black things that JC thinks he'll never wear because they look painful. And shiny. Shiny in a bad way. He would maybe wear them if they had some sparkles. "I have the show," Joey says, throwing the shoes into the suitcase. "I can't take him."
"I'm on a promo tour for my show," Chris says. "And come on, who're we kidding? I can't take care of a dog, much less a crazy guy."
"I'm not crazy," JC says. "I'm telling you, it's this amulet thing, it's purple and-"
"Well I can't take him," Lance says.
"Lance," Justin narrows his eyes. "You're the only one who doesn't do anything. I'm on tour until June. What the fuck are you doing that's so important?"
"I'm being gay," Lance says, and smiles sharply. "And unless you want to ruin what's left of JC's career by making everyone think we're fucking…"
"I don't know," says Chris, "I think that might actually help him. "
"What about Tyler?" Justin says.
"I think he's in law school or something. Plus, do you want to be the one that tells his family that JC is delusional and thinks he's stuck inside some kind of Dungeons and Dragons world with magic amulets and no shrimp? Which, by the way, JC? Would be a suckass delusion."
JC knows it's a suckass delusion, he's the one who has to live in it, thanks, but he's too afraid to say anything because Chris really does look like a pirate. He looks feisty and shrewd and he has really sharp teeth. Chris definitely seems like a biter.
Justin shakes his head and sighs, sounding very put-upon. "I hate you," Justin says. "I really, really hate you."
"It's not that bad, Justin. Just give him some headphones and stick him on a bus. He'll sleep most of the time anyway." Chris grins.
"I hate you all," Justin declares.
JC stares at the floor and doesn't meet anyone's eyes and tries really hard not to feel unwanted. These guys are all mean, even if some of them are pretty hot, and if they hate him so much they don't want to watch him be all crazy-even though he's totally not, because the amulet does exist and JC is ninety percent sure it's magic-then why are they even here in the first place? JC thinks he's probably a pretty mean person too, he remembers saying mean things about Justin on the radio the other day, but that's totally different because JC's been cursed with dark, evil magic, obviously, so it's really not his fault.
"You guys are mean," JC says finally. "Maybe I don't want to go with any of you, did you think of that? Maybe I'll just stay here and wait for the magic to wear off, or, or for whatever put this spell on me to make its demands. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow in a world where my friends aren't complete shits who don't want me around and there is sea food aplenty and-"
"JC, it's not-"
"We love you man, we do, we just-"
"We have other things to worry about so-"
JC ignores all this, goes into the bathroom, and locks the door. Because fuck those bitches. He doesn't care how hot Justin is or how nice Lance's ass is or how good Chris is at breakfast or Joey is at comforting. Because they suck, and this world sucks, and he's just going to stay in here until they leave. He has lots of water, and if he gets really hungry he's pretty sure he can eat sponges, so he'll be fine.
*
Unfortunately, Lance is pretty smart in addition to having a great ass, so JC only gets about ten minutes alone in the bathroom before they take the hinges off the door and drag him out. Chris drives them all to the airport and JC gives them the silent treatment, although none of them really seem to notice. Justin is on his cell the entire time, trying to arrange for an extra bus for his tour without wanting to explain who it's for; Lance took JC's phone and is texting Mean Eric, pretending to be JC and saying he's really sick.
"Tell Eric he has herpes," Chris says. "Tell him there are like, sores all over, and JC can barely walk."
"One in four Americans has herpes," Lance says, thumbs twitching over JC's phone. "At least one of us probably has herpes, and it's not me."
"See? It's totally believable," Chris says. "Or, no! Give him Ebola. West Nile! Tell Eric we think JC was exposed to anthrax."
"That's disgusting," Justin says. "No, not you. I was-never mind. Yeah, I need an extra bus. I'll pay for it, okay, I just-no, yeah, I understand about the environment, okay? I'm not stupid." He pauses. "Well fuck you too! Just because I don't drive a hybrid doesn't mean-fine! Christ. Never mind." Justin snaps the phone closed and glares at JC. "You don't get your own bus. Apparently there's some sort of energy crisis or whatever, so. You're riding with me."
*
Touring with Justin is okay, but kind of boring. They hang out on a bus all day, sometimes watch a movie or daytime television. JC doesn't remember any of the movies even though Justin claims he's seen them all a thousand times, so that's sort of a bonus. "Everything old is new again," Justin tells him, and smiles.
He stops being mad at Justin after the first day. The whole touring thing seems like it's really hard, and Justin is constantly moving, doing something. They get to the venue in the morning and Justin does a sound check thing, tries to make sure everything will sound right for the show. The dancers mill around the stage and some of them give JC funny looks, but mostly no one bothers him. Then Justin gets herded into a conference room for "the creep and greet, dude. I fucking hate these things." It's pretty creepy. Lots of fans. Lots of young girls in bad clothes who want Justin to sign various body parts.
"I love you so much! My best friend met you in Dallas, oh my god, she thinks you're the best!"
"Is she the one with the head?" Justin asks, but he smiles. Justin smiles a lot. He seems tired.
The show is pretty cool, actually. JC sits in a box high up with Justin's mom and his best friend to watch, and it's pretty awesome. Sometime in the middle of the show, Lynn leans over and tells him, "You used to sing this song, too. Do you remember?"
JC doesn't. He can't remember anything, and it really, it sucks. The song is okay but he hopes he sounded better than this when they sang. He used to be a popstar. He used to be in a group with Justin and Lance and Joey and Chris, but now they're not. Justin stayed up really late the night before explaining it all, and JC feels bad about that now, because the show looks hard, it looks exhausting. JC is sort of glad about his memory for the first time since he found the amulet. He's sort of happy he doesn't have to be a popstar anymore. It looks hard, JC's not sure he could even do it. Well, he's pretty sure he could write better songs, and his voice, when he tries out the singing thing, is a lot nicer than Justin's, he thinks, but the smiling and the faking and the creepy fans? No thanks.
*
A week later, Justin wants to know what JC thinks of the show.
"It's pretty cool, actually. The dancing is good. I don't know about some of the songs, though. You seem sort of obsessed with some ex-girlfriend. And sex. It's like, maybe overcompensation."
Justin doesn't talk to him for the rest of the night.
*
It's been two weeks since JC lost his memory, and now the only things about life he can really remember are Justin and a little of the other guys. Justin is a brat sometimes, but mostly he's really nice to JC, and doesn't make fun of him too much for crying a little when he can't remember something. Justin tries really hard to get him to remember things. He plays JC a lot of music-things JC wrote, things Justin wrote, things JC used to like. He makes JC watch DVDs of their old performances, but mostly JC just makes fun of what they wore and their hair and their bad dancing, and he doesn't remember any of it.
"Oh my god," JC laughs, pointing at the screen. "Oh my god, your pants! Are silver! And your hair!"
"Shut up, I was seventeen!" Justin says. "If you're not gonna take this seriously-come on, C. I just. I miss you, okay? You really can't remember?"
Justin looks really sad, sitting there on the floor in front of the television, knees pulled up to his chest like he's trying to give himself a hug. He looks pathetic and sixteen instead of twenty-six, although really not, because Justin now is hot, but Justin at sixteen looked like some sort of radioactive freak who accidentally fell into a vat of bleach.
"Hey," JC says, crouches down next to Justin. He touches Justin's arm. "It's. I'm right here. I mean, I know I'm not, I can't remember stuff, but I'm pretty sure I'm still me."
Justin shakes his head. "I know, it's just. JC wouldn't say that. I mean, you wouldn't say that, before. You'd never say you didn't like my music or which jeans makes my ass look best or that you think my tattoo is incestuous. Which it's NOT," he adds, glaring. "I just love my mom, okay?"
JC sighs and puts his arm around Justin, thinking, he's the one with no memory, he should be the one getting comfort, damnit, but JC sort of. He loves Justin, he thinks. He has these feelings that aren't memories, there's nothing to back them up, but they're there anyway. This love and jealousy and bitchiness and friendship. He loves the other guys, too, he thinks, but Justin's the one here. He remembers Justin the most.
"Maybe," he says carefully, squeezing Justin's shoulder just a bit, "maybe I wouldn't have said those things. That doesn't mean I didn't, you know. I didn't feel them, though. I still. I lost my memory, Justin. I didn't lose me."
"JC, you don't feel someone's ass looking good."
"Baby," JC grins, "I feel your ass in those jeans, believe me. I mean. It's not as nice as my ass, or even Lance's, but it's pretty nice."
"JC. Are you." Justin gives him a weird look, half-guilty, half-calculating. Like he knows he's doing something wrong, but he's going to do it anyway. "Are you gay?"
JC shrugs. "I guess. I haven't actually tried it out yet. But yeah, I feel pretty gay. I like pink a lot. And sparkles. And I fantasize about fucking guys. So yeah, probably gay."
"See, the real JC would've never admitted that." Justin stands up and yawns, smiles a little. "Everything old is new again," he says, and heads back to his bunk.
*
JC, it turns out, was trying to put out an album before all of this Amulet of Magic Memory Loss shit happened, so the next day Justin starts coaching JC for radio call ins and things. Mean Eric has been calling JC a lot. Probably, JC thinks, he figured out that JC doesn't really have anthrax.
Justin scours fan sites on his laptop and finds recordings of JC's interviews from January. They have to call Lance to figure out how to download the interviews and open them and things. JC likes talking to Lance on the phone, because Lance doesn't really treat him any different. Or, well, JC assumes he doesn't. Lance is bitchy and sarcastic and calls him Fuguely, which Lance thinks is hilarious and JC thinks is retarded. It's not even a good pun and it makes Lance sound like a total dork. He doesn't tell Lance though, because he kind of likes it. It makes him feel better, normal.
The interviews are bad. JC can tell by the way Justin makes faces during parts and flinches during others, especially whenever JC talks about him. Listening to the interviews makes Justin really sad, so JC tries to distract him with questions.
"I don't get it," he says after a particularly bad interview where he defends some chick named Britney. He's known her since she was twelve, apparently, and he doesn't remember a thing about her. "I mean, if I'm gay, why did I date all these chicks? And also, why did I write a baby mama drama song? That's just weird."
"JC, you wrote a lot of weird shit. Songs about cyber sex, sex with robots, sex with aliens, lesbians, fingering yourself, sex in the-"
"Wait. What? I wrote a song about fingering myself?" JC cocks his head to the side, bites his bottom lip. "Actually, that's kind of awesome."
"Dude, I never played you that one? It's totally awesome. It's a great song, man."
"Aww, baby," JC grins. "You like my song about finger fucking!"
*
JC does interviews. He knows he's not doing them right because he's just saying whatever he wants; he's pretty sure he's going to be pissed at himself whenever this no memory mojo thing wears off, but whatever, because being a popstar is boring and sucky and JC's pretty sure he doesn't want to do that anymore. The record company releases his single. His first one, or maybe his second, it's sort of confusing and JC just lets Justin talk to Eric about it. The song does okay, JC doesn't really care. He can't remember writing it.
The performing thing looks fun, he looks like he enjoys it, um, kind of a lot in the videos Justin still makes him watch, but the rest of it seems pretty terrible, really. JC doesn't want to do the fake smiling thing Justin does, or the photoshoots with no shirt on, or the embarrassingly dorky commercials or the going to parties and being nice to people he secretly hates. He can't even remember who he's supposed to secretly hate, anyway, so it's all kind of pointless. He still likes to sing, he sings a lot on the bus, and sometimes he tries to write lyrics and things. Justin even says some of them are good, but JC's pretty sure he doesn't want to be a popstar.
"I think I'd make a shitty popstar," JC tells Justin one night after the show. Justin is exhausted, lying sweaty and gross on the couch in the bus lounge with a towel over his face. JC nudges him to make sure he's still alive and gets a grunt in response. Even sweaty and gross, Justin is still really hot.
"You were okay," Justin says finally, his voice muffled by the towel. "It was better in the group, you could just look pretty and let Chris or Lance talk."
"I'm not pretty anymore," JC says sadly, tugging at his hair. "I looked better with the good hair."
Justin drags the towel off his face and lets it fall onto the floor, which, gross, because JC just knows that later he's going to accidentally step on it and get old Justin sweat all over him. He'd rather have new Justin sweat all over him, he thinks, although really, that sounds sort of gross too. But if it's accompanied by sex, it'd probably be pretty hot. JC can't remember what sweaty sex is like, exactly, but he's pretty sure it'd be hot.
Justin gives him a look, smiles. "I dunno. I think you look pretty good now."
"I'm still growing it out," JC says, frowning. He maybe wants to kiss Justin, but he's pretty sure Justin isn't like that about him. He's pretty sure if Justin wanted him, they'd have done it a long time ago, because JC didn't lose himself, and he knows what he wants. Justin is hot, he loves Justin. It all seems pretty simple to him. JC used to be a pretty fucked up guy though, he thinks, so probably it wasn't simple at all.
*
Justin has three days off, and that's when they decide to get drunk and have sex.
Well, it doesn't exactly happen like that. JC decides to get drunk and have sex. Not necessarily with Justin, not that he'd like, put up a big protest about the idea or something, just with anyone, because he's a pretty horny guy and his hands are starting to cramp from all the masturbation. Also, the born again virgin jokes are getting really, really old, especially when they're coming from Trace, who looks like he hasn't gotten laid in the last decade.
There's a club and Justin hustles them up to VIP. They drink a lot even though Justin's afraid that it might damage JC's brain more, even though JC keeps telling Justin about the amulet, but like, seriously, Justin just doesn't understand the inner workings of dark magic so it's pretty useless to force the issue. Especially when there are shots of something that tastes like burning cinnamon and make JC feel like flying. Flying or dancing.
JC really likes being drunk. He almost sort of gets the attic thing now, although he could really do without the puke in his hair again. It's just starting to grow out a little and look pretty, JC doesn't want to fuck that up.
So there's shots and dancing and more shots. JC turns out to be a really good dancer, actually, and Justin gets really drunk and dances with him. It's probably not allowed, but JC has already decided that he doesn't want to be a popstar and Justin seems pretty sure he can get away with anything and still sell records, so it's cool. It's cool and they dance and it's hot. Justin sweats new sweat on him, which turns out to be hot even without the sex.
But it's a lot hotter with the sex.
JC doesn't try to over think it. They get back to the hotel and JC follows Justin into his room, pushes Justin up against the door, kisses him. He can't remember kissing before this, it's like his first kiss ever, but his body seems to remember so it's hot. Justin makes these little breathy moaning noises when JC kisses him, and it's pretty fantastic. JC doesn't wonder about his real first kiss. He just wants to remember this one.
JC doesn't know what he liked before, or what he thought he liked, but he knows what he wants now. He wants to be inside Justin. He wants Justin's dick in his mouth, he wants to hear Justin make those little stuttering sighing noises when JC fucks into him, all slow and slick. He wants to touch Justin everywhere and lick the sweat off Justin's lower back and spread Justin's legs as far apart as he can and just. Yes. He wants all of that. He wants Justin.
Justin wants it too.
*
"Why didn't we ever do this before?" JC asks after. They're lying on their sides, face-to-face, all lined up. Almost perfect except that Justin's just a little taller, but pretty much perfect if they tangle their legs together because then JC can't even tell about the two inches. "I mean, I wanted to. I always thought you were hot. I always loved you."
"C. You don't know that."
"Yeah, I do. And obviously you thought I was hot, before. I mean, is it even possible for someone to not think I'm hot? I'm pretty sure that's, like, an exercise in futility. Especially when I had the hair."
"Dude, you are way too fixated on your hair."
"So why didn't we do it before?"
Justin grins and kisses him once, soft. "Probably because we're both fucking retarded."
"Speak for yourself. I'm pretty sure I'm a genius."
*
Joey's show ends or maybe he gets kicked off, JC's not really sure how that works, but in any case he goes home and offers to take JC off Justin's hands for a while so Justin can finish the tour. Justin doesn't want him to leave. Well, he doesn't say that he doesn't want JC to leave, but he tries to keep JC too busy fucking to be able to leave, so it's not until Joey actually comes to get him that JC ends up going home.
It's not really home. Home is the bus, he thinks. That's what he knows, that's what he remembers. The bus and Justin and funny emails from Lance and calling in to Chris's radio interviews pretending to be a fan from Ireland, because Justin made him watch The Reel NSync over and over again until JC pretty much had it memorized. Home is watching Joey on TV while Justin performs, and again later, when Justin is almost passed out on the couch with his towel and his water.
Home is the bus and Justin, not this big empty house with its ugly, uncomfortable furniture. Everything is too clean here, and Joey looks around like he's not quite sure he belongs. JC sort of knows how he feels.
"Come on," JC says, "I just have one thing I want to do here, and then we can. I dunno. We should go to your house. I want to meet Brihanna. Is it. That's okay, right?"
Joey smiles and squeezes JC's neck, follows him up the stairs to JC's bedroom. The amulet is still on the floor in the closet where JC left it, right next to the boot JC used to smash it. Only. It's not smashed at all. Not even a chip or a crack or anything. JC just stares. He can't even fucking believe it. For the past two months everyone he knows thought he was a total basket case, when really, he just a fucking pussy who can't even shatter a magic amulet properly. Clearly, JC needs to start lifting weights.
"Holy shit," Joey says when JC picks the amulet up. "There really is a magic amulet."
"I told you there was."
"Well, yeah, but we thought you were insane. It's sort of understandable, dude."
JC stares at the amulet. He's pretty sure if they smash it, he'll get his memory back. He can go back to being who he was before all this, with the weird baby mama drama songs and the radio interviews and the awards shows and the red carpets and the fake girlfriends. He'd probably like Mean Eric again, and he wouldn't have to pretend to have anthrax anymore. So he's pretty sure about that, except it's maybe not what he wants anymore.
"Let's find a hammer or something," Joey says, and all JC can do is nod and follow Joey around the house, out into the garage. There's a whole row of tools and shit hanging up by a work bench out there that looks like it's never been used. Joey puts the amulet on the bench and grabs a hammer from the shelf. "You ready for this? You really think it'll work?"
JC shrugs. "It's worth a try, right?"
"If you say so," Joey says, and swings the hammer down.
*
"So there really was a Magic Amulet of Memory Loss after all?" Justin asks. They're at Chris's house for a Wii marathon and Lance has the controller, which is pretty annoying. Lance is taking about a year and half to create his character, even though they all know that he probably won't even play any of the games.
"No, your jaw is way bigger than that," Chris tells Lance, waving at the screen, "and your ears are all weird, you have to lower them, they don't look like that at all."
"Chris, I'm pretty sure my eyes also aren't made of stars, so it's not like it matters if my ears are the wrong height."
JC smiles and leans against Justin on the couch, tucks his head under Justin's arm until he gets the idea and puts it around JC's shoulders. "I told you guys there was an amulet. You never believe me about this stuff!"
"Well, it sounded pretty dumb, C," Lance says. Chris makes a grab for Lance's controller, but Lance stands up and holds it above his head, kicking out at Chris with socked feet until Chris gives up and settles back on the floor, glaring at Lance and mumbling about how some people just don't know what their own faces look like enough to create a stupid game character they won't even use.
"And technically, it wasn't magic," Joey says. "I mean, we shattered that fucker to pieces and JC still can't remember anything."
"I like him better this way," Chris says. "Only he really needs to stop talking about Lance's ass like that, he's gonna give Justin a complex."
"Lance has a nice ass," Justin says. "It's not JC's fault for noticing." He kisses JC, which is nice, it's always nice, and also hot, and also makes JC want to forget the stupid Wii even if Chris did promise he could play tennis as much as he wants as long as he wears the wrist strap and doesn't fling the controller into the television like last time, and just drag Justin somewhere more private for sex. Chris pretends to throw up into the popcorn bowl and Joey hits him.
"You really don't remember?" Justin asks later, when they're getting ready for bed, brushing their teeth and flossing and all that. JC spits into the sink and wipes his mouth off, looks at Justin standing behind him in the mirror. Justin doesn't look sad anymore, he doesn't say he misses JC. Sometimes he talks about before, but not that much. He doesn't look all pathetic and longing anymore. He looks pretty happy, like he has what he needs. That's how JC feels, too.
"I remember the things that matter," JC says, and smiles.
JC and the Magical Amulet of Doom
Fandom: Popslash
Pairing: JC/Justin
Rating: Adult
Comments: Written for juc_day! Many thanks to withdiamonds and raynedanser for their help. Also to Joss Whedon for providing me with so many convenient plot ideas. And for just being awesome in general.
Summary: JC finds a magical amulet and loses his memory. Chaos ensues.
What happens is pretty simple, really. Well, okay, finding a magic amulet ("It’s not a fucking pansy-ass amulet, okay? It's a necklace. We don't live in the fifteenth century, fuckwad," Chris insisted at the time, but whatever, JC totally thinks it looks like an amulet, it's all big and shiny and purple and, and amuletty) that makes you forget everything ever, including who's president and the capital of Botswana, which JC totally knew before no matter what Lance says, isn't exactly simple. Actually, finding the amulet is pretty simple. What the amulet does, sort of the opposite. Chris keeps telling him he must've done it on purpose just to make everyone else's life harder, but JC's pretty sure that's not true. Or he would be, except that he can't remember.
What happens is this. JC is JC, and he's doing his JC thing, pretending to work on his album and agonizing over the final mixes and thinking that really, it all just sucks and he should start over and who wants to be a popstar, anyway? Being a popstar is so 1990s, and JC prefers to live in the now, and also all the rejection makes him sad and annoying and bitchy, even to himself. He should be, like, an accountant or something instead.
When he finds himself calling up his DSL company's tech support just so that he can yell at someone without feeling guilty about it and ends up making some poor girl in Texas cry and offer him two free months' of service, he knows that something has to be done. And also, yay for free DSL, because that shit is way too expensive, especially considering how long it takes just to download some basic porn.
So something needs to be done, but JC's not sure what, so he decides to take a few weeks off from all of the, well, from nothing, really, because Jive is raping him in a not good way. Not that there's really a good way to rape someone. JC doesn't condone it or whatever, but he can see how people might have certain fantasies, consenting adults, and so on. Pretend rape could be good, maybe, if the guy is hot enough. Which no one at Jive is, so, yeah. Rape is bad, JC has firmly established this in his head, and it's time to figure some shit out, so he goes home and has a good think.
And then he hears Chris on the radio, and everything gets much, much worse.
"Nah," Chris tells the DJ, "I'm not Lance's type. Lance likes good-looking guys." Stupid Chris. Stupid Chris and his stupid wittiness, and stupid Lance because Chris is totally right, and if that's the case, then why hasn't Lance ever hit on him? He calls Lance to find out.
"Dude, you've been gay for a while now, right?"
"Uh. JC? What the hell are you talking about, man?"
"I'm just saying. Okay. You've been gay for a long time. Like, years and years. And you never hit on me, not even once. What's up with that? Because gay guys hit on me all the time, Lance. All the time. So, it's not me. It's gotta be something wrong with you."
"Thanks, JC. Because I'm sure that me not lusting after your ass clearly means I'm wrong in the head. It's probably a sign of the apocalypse. I hope you have your pantry stocked up, because, dude-obviously the end of the world."
"Shut up. You know what I mean. I'm a hot guy. I'm good-looking and stuff, right? And you're gay, you're totally gay, so what the fuck? That's all I'm saying."
"JC, you're demented. And good-looking, okay, does that make you happy? I'm very sorry I never tried to tap that."
"Thanks," JC says quietly. He feels a little better, maybe. Lance thinks he's good-looking. Lance wishes he could do JC right now, probably. Poor Lance, he doesn't get to.
"But JC, I never thought you'd want me to."
"Because I'm not gay?"
Lance snorts, which JC finds mildly offensive and almost hangs up on Lance just on the principle of the thing, because he totally does like girls, sometimes, as long as their boobs aren't too big and he can do them from behind with his eyes closed. But he really sort of wants to hear what Lance has to say, so. "Lance?"
He laughs again, a little laugh of disbelief. "Because you're in love with Justin, you retard."
"I'm not a retard," JC says. "I read Scientific American, I'm totally smart." He pauses, chews his thumbnail a little, thinks that that's a stupid reason to not hit on someone despite that someone being totally hot. Justin is always ruining things like that, he's just a big ruiner of everything, and also. Oh, right. "And also, I am not in love with Justin. That's just. Stupid. It's totally stupid."
"Uh huh. Look, I'm sort of on vacation here, so I don't really feel like pretending to believe you and getting a lecture about how you and Justin are just friends and no one is gay except me, and how strap-ons don't count because it's still a girl. You're pretty gay, you're in love with Justin, and I have absolutely no desire to fuck you, sorry."
"Lance," JC says, staring at the sky nervously. It's looking a little funny, maybe more purple than usual, and he's pretty sure it could start falling at any moment. It has that look to it. Not that JC really knows what the sky falling looks like, but probably it's just like this. Lance doesn't want him. That's just sad. "It's not really the apocalypse, is it?"
Lance hangs up on him. Damn it.
*
So what happens next is, JC does the only thing he can think of doing, which is going to Chris's house, drinking all his alcohol, and hiding out in his creepy attic full of random crap that JC is pretty sure isn't even Chris's. Because seriously, if the apocalypse is coming, JC wants to be prepared. And drunk. Very, very drunk.
Also, he's not in love with Justin. That's just. It's retarded, is what it is. No, Lance is retarded. He's like, the most retarded person JC can even think of, and JC knows Nick Carter, so that's pretty damned retarded. Plus, Lance probably isn't even gay if he can honestly say he doesn't want to do JC. JC is hot, gay men the world over want to do him, so Lance is either retarded or a liar, and in any case, totally wrong about the Justin thing.
Not that Justin isn't hot. Justin's hot, of course he is. JC would totally have sex with Justin just on general principle, because unlike Lance, JC isn't retarded or a liar and he's willing to admit when he wants to tap that. But JC's not, like, in love with Justin. Justin is a brat, and more famous than JC and also his music sort of sucks, so really, JC could never love him like that. JC loves him like a brother. A brother he'd theoretically like to have sex with if that brother wasn't pretending to be mostly straight, sure, but a brother. Which is sort of gross when JC thinks about it too much, because incest is like rape, in that it's bad and pretty disgusting, but it's not like they share blood and they can't like, birth freaky flipper babies or anything, so it's not that bad.
JC is really, really drunk. Gin never tasted so good as when there's a looming apocalypse on the horizon.
But in any case, Lance is still retarded and wrong. JC's not in love with Justin. In fact, he's pretty sure he hates Justin right now. Justin's the one who said, "Dude, a baby mama drama song is just what you need!" so JC is pretty sure this whole thing where his album sucks and is never coming out and he'll never be a famous popstar again is totally Justin's fault. So yeah. Not in love. Like, at all.
It's when JC is finishing up Chris's bottle of gin that he finds the amulet. It's big and purple and gold and in horrible taste, which is so totally Chris that JC maybe starts to cry a little. Chris is still in LA doing promo and Lance is on vacation (from what, JC can't even begin to guess because it's not like Lance has a job or whatever) and Justin is on tour and Joey is learning to be a ballroom dancer. He maybe misses them a lot, and misses being in NSync and people actually hearing his music. He misses not having to be all desperate and pathetic and visit tiny radio stations that won't play his song anyway. JC cries a little more, and hugs the amulet and starts on the vodka and thinks, it's all Justin's fault and he's so not in love with Justin at all, because it's all Justin's fault and also, vodka tastes a lot better when he's already lost all feeling in his mouth.
He licks at his teeth because there's no feeling there, either, takes another long pull from the vodka bottle, and lies down on the dusty attic floor. Or maybe it's the ceiling. Well, the second-story ceiling, but whatever, this thinking thing is too hard sometimes, and JC hopes Chris comes back soon. Chris makes the best eggs and bacon and coffee out of all of them, which isn't really saying anything since the only one of them who can cook is Joey, and he only makes pasta and calzones and other stereotypical Italian things, which is maybe mean but they're called stereotypes for a reason, and damnit, JC wants Joey. He wants Chris and Joey and Lance to come and drink with him and make him food, and not Justin because it's all Justin's fault, but the rest of them are good. He misses them.
JC falls asleep with the amulet clutched in one hand and the half-empty vodka bottle in the other thinking, yeah, but really, he's a vodka bottle half-full kind of guy.
*
It doesn't happen all at once, which is maybe the most frustrating thing about the whole Magic Amulet of Memory Loss thing. In fact at first, they all just think JC got really drunk and blacked out, which is why he doesn't remember how he ended up passed out in Chris's attic next to a puddle of puke, surrounded by empty bottles formerly containing booze.
"Dude, you are one lucky fucker you didn't end up in my bed," Chris says when he wakes JC up the next afternoon by poking him repeatedly in the ribs with his shoe, "because I would've choked your skinny ass if you hadn't already drowned in your own vomit by the time I found you."
Chris makes him eggs and bacon and coffee, which is nice because Chris is best at the breakfast thing, and then kicks JC out because "the guys" are coming over to work on some stuff. JC feels pretty fuzzy, and he seems to have acquired a really ugly amulet-looking thing, but he leaves and finds his way home and doesn't ask who "the guys" are. He thought they were the guys, him and Joey and Lance and Justin, but apparently Chris has other guys now, which is just weird. And wrong. It makes JC sniffly, so he calls Joey, because Joey isn't good at breakfast, but he is good at cheering people up.
"Joey," JC says, trying not to sniffle too much because he doesn't want Joey super worried, just worried enough to give JC some attention and maybe say nice things about his hair. "Since when does Chris have new guys?"
"Wait, what? Is Chris gay now, too? No one tells me these things. I'm always just walking in and woops! There's the gay. It's not fair, okay? You guys need to just tell me when you're gay."
"I thought." JC frowns and rubs his forehead, collapses on his couch which, weird, he thought his couch was white yesterday and now it's not. It's red now, that's pretty freaky, and also kind of ugly. "I thought we didn't talk about that. Wait, who did you walk in on? Was it Justin? He always seemed really gay to me."
Joey laughs. "Dude, are you fucking with me? Did Lance put you up to this? He knows it's against the rules to use you against me."
"I don't." JC can't seem to finish his sentences. He's feeling very confused and even more fuzzy than before, which is just wrong because he had, like, five cups of coffee at Chris's house, and then he tries to run his fingers through his hair and there's nothing there. Well, that's not true. There's something, but it's all weird and short and it feels like gel and maybe a bit of vomit is in it too. JC squeaks a little and runs to the bathroom, Joey babbling on in his ear about the rules and Lance and "I'm gonna get him back so bad when he gets back next week." JC thinks, did Lance already go to space? Did he totally miss Lance blasting himself into space somehow? Because like, JC zones out a lot and there are entire days he can't remember what the fuck he did, but he thinks he'd remember Lance in space. Probably. And then he sees himself in the mirror, screams, and drops the phone.
"JC? Dude, what's wrong? Hello??"
"Joey," JC whispers, grabbing the phone from the sink and staring suspiciously at his reflection in the mirror, because that is totally not him and something really freaky has happened, he's like, been body snatched or something. Or like, it's like that movie with Kirk Cameron in it that JC only saw because Kirk was fucking hot as hell even if he is a scary born again Christian guy. Body switch. Body snatched. SOMETHING. It looks sort of like him. But old. And severely lacking in pretty, pretty hair.
"JC, what's going on?"
"Joey, I have to go. Someone stole my body. And my hair. Which is on my body, which I am not in because this isn't my body. Joey. My HAIR. Is GONE. I have to go."
He hangs up on Joey's confused laughter and narrows his eyes at his reflection. "I don't know who you are or what you did to my hair, you fucker, but I'm going to find out, and then you'll be sorry."
*
It turns out that JC hasn't been body snatched at all, and actually chose to do this horrible, tragic thing to his own hair. No one cut it off while he was sleeping as some terrible, really mean joke, not even Chris, who once tried to dye Justin's hair pink in his sleep. JC did it to himself. Obviously, JC thinks, he went through a period of self-loathing. He's sort of happy he can't seem to remember it, but at least it's better than being a secret cutter. Those people write the worst songs.
"But Chris," JC whispers into his phone, still staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, "why would I cut my hair? It was pretty! It was perfect. And now my nose looks huge. Did my nose get bigger? Did I have a reverse nose job?"
"Dude, you just have a huge nose, I thought you were over that."
"But the hair made it look almost normal-sized and now it's GONE and why would I do that? This is like. It's tragic, is what it is. It's a disaster. A disaster and a travesty! It's like. Like those starving kids in Africa with the weird, huge bellies and tiny tiny arms. I can't believe-hang on, my phone is beeping. Why is my phone beeping?"
"Call waiting, fuckwad."
JC looks at his phone display. "Who's Eric? Do I know an Eric? Maybe he's the body snatcher."
"No one snatched your body, you freak. Eric, as in your manager, Eric?"
"What happened to Carlos?"
"That's a good question. Why don't you tell me?"
"No, I said you should tell me!"
Chris makes a huffing sound and hangs up on him, so JC suddenly has this Eric person in his ear all, "JC, you asshole, you were supposed to call in to the radio station twenty minutes ago!"
"Oh, um, sorry, I just-"
"Forgot? Big surprise. It's fine, I'm patching you through."
"Wait, I-"
"JC Chasez?"
"Um. Yes?"
"Good to have you with us, man. It's been a minute. How're you doing?"
"I woke up in Chris's attic, I think I still have vomit in my hair, which is much shorter and worse-looking than it used to be, so uh. Not that well, actually." JC is pretty rattled. Eric sounds like a very mean person, and JC doesn't know what happened to Carlos, who was never mean and made him burritos whenever he wanted them, even super late at night. Eric probably wouldn't even make JC a butter sandwich. Eric probably forces him to eat gruel and clean toilets.
The DJs laugh. Like they think he's joking. JC glares at himself in the mirror. His nose really does look gigantic without all the pretty hair to take attention away.
"Sounds like a rough night. Chris, huh? Kirkpatrick? He's doing a show now, right?"
"Sure?"
"And what about Justin? How do you feel about all the crazy success he's had as a solo artist?"
"Justin who? Wait-Justin Timberlake? Since when did he do a solo project? No one tells me anything!"
More laughing. JC grits his teeth, these DJs are really annoying, and also, Justin did what now? Something is terribly, terribly wrong. It's not just a body snatching issue anymore. It's like. Like an alternate reality. Like on Buffy-a world without shrimp. And JC kind of likes shrimp so that would be bad, plus the fact that in this world, his hair sucks and his nose is huge and Justin went solo and Chris has a show? JC hates this world.
"You worked on this song with Justin, right? What was it like being in the studio with Justin again?"
JC's head hurts. This interview sucks and he maybe did some serious brain damage with all the drinking he did in Chris's attic that he can't even remember, because nothing makes sense anymore. He frowns. The no-shrimp world sucks. JC wants to go home.
"Justin's a bitch in the studio," JC says. He's feeling mean and nasty and he's pretty sure this is all Justin's fault anyway-things usually are. "He's such a brat, man, you don't even know. Everything has to be his way and he always wants to sing parts that are too high for him and then he ends up sounding like a goat. You know what I mean."
The DJs are silent for a minute, and then more laughing. "Okay then. So now, tell us about Lance Bass. He came out recently."
"Lance? Uh, I think he's on vacation or something. Or in Russia. I'm not really sure. Did I mention that I woke up in an attic?"
The DJ laughs. "He came out as a gay man, I mean."
What?! "What?!" JC says. No-shrimp world, he thinks to himself. No-shrimp world, things are different here, Lance is GAY? "No, seriously, Lance is gay? Are you sure about that?"
"Pretty sure. We had his People cover up on the bulletin board for a month!" The DJs all titter to themselves.
"Lance was on the cover of People?"
"Man, where have you been, JC?"
"I told you! In the attic!"
*
Eric cuts the interview off early, after JC rambles on for five minutes straight about 'Digital Getdown' and how it was ahead of its time and really all about the computer revolution and everyone else just has dirty minds, because "JC, you've gone psychotic or something. Don't talk to anyone until I get there. I mean it."
Which only freaks JC out more, because Eric seems mean and scary and so what if Chris said he's JC's manager, he's very pushy and has absolutely no sympathy about JC's hair and the resulting nose catastrophe. So JC does the only thing he can think of, which is to hide in his closet, call Justin, and whimper pathetically.
"Justin," JC says. "I need you to come over. Some guy called Eric is coming here and he sounds mean. He called me psychotic."
"Did you do something crazy?" Justin asks. Stupid Justin and his stupid logic.
"No! Well. I had an interview and I maybe said you were a bitch but I didn't mean it, okay? You're my best friend and I love you like a brother even though you went solo and this is like, some kind of horrible no-shrimp world where my hair is all short and stupid and I just want to go home."
"…wookay then. That answers that question."
"I'm not crazy, okay? I woke up in Chris's attic, and everything is different and I really hate this." JC starts to cry a little, because his head really does hurt and Justin thinks he's insane and Mean Eric is coming and who knows what he'll do to JC when he gets here. He could be big, and JC isn't a fighter. He's not even scrappy.
"JC. Just, okay. I'm gonna call Chris and Joey, and they're gonna take care of you, okay?"
"I want you." JC's feeling pretty petty. He sniffles a little and reminds himself that Justin has stupid hair, even worse than JC's is now, so at least there's that. "Why can't you come?"
"I'm on tour?"
"On your big solo project that you totally ditched us for?"
"Okay, seriously, I love you man, but there's something wrong and I'm pretty sure it's not shrimp, JC. Don't move. Stay there. Chris and Joey are coming over, and everything's gonna be okay."
"Whatever," JC says, and sniffles a little more. Then, "Thanks."
*
While he's waiting for Joey and Chris, whoever that is, to come over, JC has a sudden epiphany. Because if he's living in this weird no-shrimp world where everything sucks and he just happened to wake up with this ugly amulet thing around his neck, the solution is pretty obvious. The amulet is evil and magic, and destroying it will fix this terrible no-shrimp, bad hair world. Easy, and JC wishes he'd thought of it sooner, before he called Justin and cried.
JC takes the amulet off, sets it down on the closet floor, picks up a boot, and slams it down. The giant purple stone in the center cracks with a satisfying pop, and JC's pretty sure some magic powder floats out of it, but it's pretty dark in the closet so that could just be dust. He looks around hopefully, crawls out of the closet and heads for the bathroom mirror. Nothing's changed. His hair is still stupid, and also has vomit in it, and life still sucks.
Joey and Chris get there while JC is in the shower. They're waiting in JC's bedroom, and Joey isn't Joey at all and he has a beard and Chris is just some weird-looking guy that JC doesn't recognize at all aside from him making JC breakfast, even though Justin made it sound like JC should know him. JC guesses that since he woke up in the guy's attic and ate his food, Justin is maybe right about that. Chris is really short.
"JC. What the hell is wrong with you? Justin said something about you having a psychotic break and shrimp and being mean to him?" The Chris dude is giving JC the evil eye. He's very piratey, JC thinks. Chris should get an eye patch and go with it, because the current look is clearly not going to get him laid and at least that way, he'll have a conversation piece. He could maybe pass for a Viking, too, but Vikings are supposed to be tall, JC thinks. And blond.
JC feels himself about to cry again with all the staring and the accusations of craziness, which is not okay, so he glares instead and says, "Who the fuck are you people?"
*
It turns out that this isn't no-shrimp world at all. Which is great on the one hand, because JC really does like shrimp, but on the other, he's losing his memory. Which is pretty bad. By the time Justin and Lance get there the next day, he remembers his name, and that's about it. And mostly he's only pretending to remember that because Joey looked so sad when JC couldn't remember anything else that happened pre-attic, so yeah. It's pretty bad.
"This is fucking fucked up," Justin says. Justin, JC has noticed, likes to swear a lot. He's also pretty hot, but JC doesn't say that. He's sort of afraid to say much of anything after the interview debacle. He might get yelled at again. This no memory thing sucks.
"Thanks, Justin. I was just sitting here thinking how normal all this was, so that brilliant observation is really helping me sort this out in my head." Lance-the gay one, JC thinks-smirks a little and crosses his arms over his chest. Lance is kind of hot, too, actually, but he has a weird eye thing going on. Justin is very symmetrical.
"Guys, I think we're freaking him out," Joey says. "Maybe we should take him to the hospital?"
"No fucking way," Chris says. "The press'll be all over that shit and it's not like they'll tell us anything useful, so-"
"The press won't care if JC goes to the hospital," Justin says. "He lost his fucking memory, Chris. We can't just not take him to the hospital. There are things. Rules. When someone loses their mind, you take them to the hospital!"
"Fuck you, man!" Chris says. Yells. He looks pretty angry. Short, and angry, like a very small pirate. He should maybe get a parrot to go with the eye patch, just to make sure people get the look. "Just because he's not Justin fucking Timberlake doesn't mean-"
"That's not what I meant and-"
"Guys, come on," Joey says, and gives Lance a pleading look.
"I think Chris is right," Lance says, and Justin starts yelling at him too. None of them notice when JC stands up and waves his arms around.
"Hello! People! Guys!" JC sighs, glares at them. They ignore him to argue with each other, which is pretty rude, JC thinks, considering it's his crazy they're discussing. "I don't want to go to the hospital!"
Justin swivels his head, narrows his eyes. "JC. You can barely remember your own name! You need help, dude."
"I know my name, dude," JC tells him. "It's JC. Which, okay, I'm sure I love my mom and stuff, but that's a suckass name. It's a girl's name. Jaycie? But my point is, the hospital can't help because this is all the magic amulet's fault."
The guys look at each other like they're communicating silently, which JC hates because it's not fair and hey, maybe they're psychic. Maybe he's psychic too, but he can't remember. That would actually be pretty cool, if they were like, some sort of crime-fighting team of psychics banding together to save the world from unspeakable evil.
Lance clears his throat and they all stand up. "So, who's driving to the hospital?"
*
The doctors can't help. JC listens while they explain it to Justin and use big words like 'hysteria' and 'fugue state' that JC only half-way understands, although fugue sounds like the leftover steak sandwich you forget about and leave in the fridge for a month until it grows its own civilization in bacteria. But apparently it's all just doctor babble for 'JC is crazy and there's nothing we can do to help him.'
He tries to explain about the amulet, but no one listens. JC wonders if this is what it was like before, thinks it's no wonder that he ended up passed out in Chris's attic with the empty bottles and the vomit pool, if this is how he gets treated. Back at JC's house, Lance pulls out suitcases and starts packing up JC's stuff. JC watches him, thinking he has some pretty weird taste in clothes. It's all suits and vests and crap, and JC thinks, whatever happened to jeans and t-shirts? JC owns t-shirts, but they're all weird looking and none of them are pink. It feels wrong. JC's pretty sure he likes pink. It's really one of the few things he's sure about at this point.
"What are we gonna do with him?" Justin asks, picking at JC's bedspread and watching Lance and Chris debate over how many pairs of shoes to pack.
"I can't take him," Joey says, rolling his eyes and pushing Chris and Lance aside, grabbing some flip flops, a pair of sneakers, and some nicer black things that JC thinks he'll never wear because they look painful. And shiny. Shiny in a bad way. He would maybe wear them if they had some sparkles. "I have the show," Joey says, throwing the shoes into the suitcase. "I can't take him."
"I'm on a promo tour for my show," Chris says. "And come on, who're we kidding? I can't take care of a dog, much less a crazy guy."
"I'm not crazy," JC says. "I'm telling you, it's this amulet thing, it's purple and-"
"Well I can't take him," Lance says.
"Lance," Justin narrows his eyes. "You're the only one who doesn't do anything. I'm on tour until June. What the fuck are you doing that's so important?"
"I'm being gay," Lance says, and smiles sharply. "And unless you want to ruin what's left of JC's career by making everyone think we're fucking…"
"I don't know," says Chris, "I think that might actually help him. "
"What about Tyler?" Justin says.
"I think he's in law school or something. Plus, do you want to be the one that tells his family that JC is delusional and thinks he's stuck inside some kind of Dungeons and Dragons world with magic amulets and no shrimp? Which, by the way, JC? Would be a suckass delusion."
JC knows it's a suckass delusion, he's the one who has to live in it, thanks, but he's too afraid to say anything because Chris really does look like a pirate. He looks feisty and shrewd and he has really sharp teeth. Chris definitely seems like a biter.
Justin shakes his head and sighs, sounding very put-upon. "I hate you," Justin says. "I really, really hate you."
"It's not that bad, Justin. Just give him some headphones and stick him on a bus. He'll sleep most of the time anyway." Chris grins.
"I hate you all," Justin declares.
JC stares at the floor and doesn't meet anyone's eyes and tries really hard not to feel unwanted. These guys are all mean, even if some of them are pretty hot, and if they hate him so much they don't want to watch him be all crazy-even though he's totally not, because the amulet does exist and JC is ninety percent sure it's magic-then why are they even here in the first place? JC thinks he's probably a pretty mean person too, he remembers saying mean things about Justin on the radio the other day, but that's totally different because JC's been cursed with dark, evil magic, obviously, so it's really not his fault.
"You guys are mean," JC says finally. "Maybe I don't want to go with any of you, did you think of that? Maybe I'll just stay here and wait for the magic to wear off, or, or for whatever put this spell on me to make its demands. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow in a world where my friends aren't complete shits who don't want me around and there is sea food aplenty and-"
"JC, it's not-"
"We love you man, we do, we just-"
"We have other things to worry about so-"
JC ignores all this, goes into the bathroom, and locks the door. Because fuck those bitches. He doesn't care how hot Justin is or how nice Lance's ass is or how good Chris is at breakfast or Joey is at comforting. Because they suck, and this world sucks, and he's just going to stay in here until they leave. He has lots of water, and if he gets really hungry he's pretty sure he can eat sponges, so he'll be fine.
*
Unfortunately, Lance is pretty smart in addition to having a great ass, so JC only gets about ten minutes alone in the bathroom before they take the hinges off the door and drag him out. Chris drives them all to the airport and JC gives them the silent treatment, although none of them really seem to notice. Justin is on his cell the entire time, trying to arrange for an extra bus for his tour without wanting to explain who it's for; Lance took JC's phone and is texting Mean Eric, pretending to be JC and saying he's really sick.
"Tell Eric he has herpes," Chris says. "Tell him there are like, sores all over, and JC can barely walk."
"One in four Americans has herpes," Lance says, thumbs twitching over JC's phone. "At least one of us probably has herpes, and it's not me."
"See? It's totally believable," Chris says. "Or, no! Give him Ebola. West Nile! Tell Eric we think JC was exposed to anthrax."
"That's disgusting," Justin says. "No, not you. I was-never mind. Yeah, I need an extra bus. I'll pay for it, okay, I just-no, yeah, I understand about the environment, okay? I'm not stupid." He pauses. "Well fuck you too! Just because I don't drive a hybrid doesn't mean-fine! Christ. Never mind." Justin snaps the phone closed and glares at JC. "You don't get your own bus. Apparently there's some sort of energy crisis or whatever, so. You're riding with me."
*
Touring with Justin is okay, but kind of boring. They hang out on a bus all day, sometimes watch a movie or daytime television. JC doesn't remember any of the movies even though Justin claims he's seen them all a thousand times, so that's sort of a bonus. "Everything old is new again," Justin tells him, and smiles.
He stops being mad at Justin after the first day. The whole touring thing seems like it's really hard, and Justin is constantly moving, doing something. They get to the venue in the morning and Justin does a sound check thing, tries to make sure everything will sound right for the show. The dancers mill around the stage and some of them give JC funny looks, but mostly no one bothers him. Then Justin gets herded into a conference room for "the creep and greet, dude. I fucking hate these things." It's pretty creepy. Lots of fans. Lots of young girls in bad clothes who want Justin to sign various body parts.
"I love you so much! My best friend met you in Dallas, oh my god, she thinks you're the best!"
"Is she the one with the head?" Justin asks, but he smiles. Justin smiles a lot. He seems tired.
The show is pretty cool, actually. JC sits in a box high up with Justin's mom and his best friend to watch, and it's pretty awesome. Sometime in the middle of the show, Lynn leans over and tells him, "You used to sing this song, too. Do you remember?"
JC doesn't. He can't remember anything, and it really, it sucks. The song is okay but he hopes he sounded better than this when they sang. He used to be a popstar. He used to be in a group with Justin and Lance and Joey and Chris, but now they're not. Justin stayed up really late the night before explaining it all, and JC feels bad about that now, because the show looks hard, it looks exhausting. JC is sort of glad about his memory for the first time since he found the amulet. He's sort of happy he doesn't have to be a popstar anymore. It looks hard, JC's not sure he could even do it. Well, he's pretty sure he could write better songs, and his voice, when he tries out the singing thing, is a lot nicer than Justin's, he thinks, but the smiling and the faking and the creepy fans? No thanks.
*
A week later, Justin wants to know what JC thinks of the show.
"It's pretty cool, actually. The dancing is good. I don't know about some of the songs, though. You seem sort of obsessed with some ex-girlfriend. And sex. It's like, maybe overcompensation."
Justin doesn't talk to him for the rest of the night.
*
It's been two weeks since JC lost his memory, and now the only things about life he can really remember are Justin and a little of the other guys. Justin is a brat sometimes, but mostly he's really nice to JC, and doesn't make fun of him too much for crying a little when he can't remember something. Justin tries really hard to get him to remember things. He plays JC a lot of music-things JC wrote, things Justin wrote, things JC used to like. He makes JC watch DVDs of their old performances, but mostly JC just makes fun of what they wore and their hair and their bad dancing, and he doesn't remember any of it.
"Oh my god," JC laughs, pointing at the screen. "Oh my god, your pants! Are silver! And your hair!"
"Shut up, I was seventeen!" Justin says. "If you're not gonna take this seriously-come on, C. I just. I miss you, okay? You really can't remember?"
Justin looks really sad, sitting there on the floor in front of the television, knees pulled up to his chest like he's trying to give himself a hug. He looks pathetic and sixteen instead of twenty-six, although really not, because Justin now is hot, but Justin at sixteen looked like some sort of radioactive freak who accidentally fell into a vat of bleach.
"Hey," JC says, crouches down next to Justin. He touches Justin's arm. "It's. I'm right here. I mean, I know I'm not, I can't remember stuff, but I'm pretty sure I'm still me."
Justin shakes his head. "I know, it's just. JC wouldn't say that. I mean, you wouldn't say that, before. You'd never say you didn't like my music or which jeans makes my ass look best or that you think my tattoo is incestuous. Which it's NOT," he adds, glaring. "I just love my mom, okay?"
JC sighs and puts his arm around Justin, thinking, he's the one with no memory, he should be the one getting comfort, damnit, but JC sort of. He loves Justin, he thinks. He has these feelings that aren't memories, there's nothing to back them up, but they're there anyway. This love and jealousy and bitchiness and friendship. He loves the other guys, too, he thinks, but Justin's the one here. He remembers Justin the most.
"Maybe," he says carefully, squeezing Justin's shoulder just a bit, "maybe I wouldn't have said those things. That doesn't mean I didn't, you know. I didn't feel them, though. I still. I lost my memory, Justin. I didn't lose me."
"JC, you don't feel someone's ass looking good."
"Baby," JC grins, "I feel your ass in those jeans, believe me. I mean. It's not as nice as my ass, or even Lance's, but it's pretty nice."
"JC. Are you." Justin gives him a weird look, half-guilty, half-calculating. Like he knows he's doing something wrong, but he's going to do it anyway. "Are you gay?"
JC shrugs. "I guess. I haven't actually tried it out yet. But yeah, I feel pretty gay. I like pink a lot. And sparkles. And I fantasize about fucking guys. So yeah, probably gay."
"See, the real JC would've never admitted that." Justin stands up and yawns, smiles a little. "Everything old is new again," he says, and heads back to his bunk.
*
JC, it turns out, was trying to put out an album before all of this Amulet of Magic Memory Loss shit happened, so the next day Justin starts coaching JC for radio call ins and things. Mean Eric has been calling JC a lot. Probably, JC thinks, he figured out that JC doesn't really have anthrax.
Justin scours fan sites on his laptop and finds recordings of JC's interviews from January. They have to call Lance to figure out how to download the interviews and open them and things. JC likes talking to Lance on the phone, because Lance doesn't really treat him any different. Or, well, JC assumes he doesn't. Lance is bitchy and sarcastic and calls him Fuguely, which Lance thinks is hilarious and JC thinks is retarded. It's not even a good pun and it makes Lance sound like a total dork. He doesn't tell Lance though, because he kind of likes it. It makes him feel better, normal.
The interviews are bad. JC can tell by the way Justin makes faces during parts and flinches during others, especially whenever JC talks about him. Listening to the interviews makes Justin really sad, so JC tries to distract him with questions.
"I don't get it," he says after a particularly bad interview where he defends some chick named Britney. He's known her since she was twelve, apparently, and he doesn't remember a thing about her. "I mean, if I'm gay, why did I date all these chicks? And also, why did I write a baby mama drama song? That's just weird."
"JC, you wrote a lot of weird shit. Songs about cyber sex, sex with robots, sex with aliens, lesbians, fingering yourself, sex in the-"
"Wait. What? I wrote a song about fingering myself?" JC cocks his head to the side, bites his bottom lip. "Actually, that's kind of awesome."
"Dude, I never played you that one? It's totally awesome. It's a great song, man."
"Aww, baby," JC grins. "You like my song about finger fucking!"
*
JC does interviews. He knows he's not doing them right because he's just saying whatever he wants; he's pretty sure he's going to be pissed at himself whenever this no memory mojo thing wears off, but whatever, because being a popstar is boring and sucky and JC's pretty sure he doesn't want to do that anymore. The record company releases his single. His first one, or maybe his second, it's sort of confusing and JC just lets Justin talk to Eric about it. The song does okay, JC doesn't really care. He can't remember writing it.
The performing thing looks fun, he looks like he enjoys it, um, kind of a lot in the videos Justin still makes him watch, but the rest of it seems pretty terrible, really. JC doesn't want to do the fake smiling thing Justin does, or the photoshoots with no shirt on, or the embarrassingly dorky commercials or the going to parties and being nice to people he secretly hates. He can't even remember who he's supposed to secretly hate, anyway, so it's all kind of pointless. He still likes to sing, he sings a lot on the bus, and sometimes he tries to write lyrics and things. Justin even says some of them are good, but JC's pretty sure he doesn't want to be a popstar.
"I think I'd make a shitty popstar," JC tells Justin one night after the show. Justin is exhausted, lying sweaty and gross on the couch in the bus lounge with a towel over his face. JC nudges him to make sure he's still alive and gets a grunt in response. Even sweaty and gross, Justin is still really hot.
"You were okay," Justin says finally, his voice muffled by the towel. "It was better in the group, you could just look pretty and let Chris or Lance talk."
"I'm not pretty anymore," JC says sadly, tugging at his hair. "I looked better with the good hair."
Justin drags the towel off his face and lets it fall onto the floor, which, gross, because JC just knows that later he's going to accidentally step on it and get old Justin sweat all over him. He'd rather have new Justin sweat all over him, he thinks, although really, that sounds sort of gross too. But if it's accompanied by sex, it'd probably be pretty hot. JC can't remember what sweaty sex is like, exactly, but he's pretty sure it'd be hot.
Justin gives him a look, smiles. "I dunno. I think you look pretty good now."
"I'm still growing it out," JC says, frowning. He maybe wants to kiss Justin, but he's pretty sure Justin isn't like that about him. He's pretty sure if Justin wanted him, they'd have done it a long time ago, because JC didn't lose himself, and he knows what he wants. Justin is hot, he loves Justin. It all seems pretty simple to him. JC used to be a pretty fucked up guy though, he thinks, so probably it wasn't simple at all.
*
Justin has three days off, and that's when they decide to get drunk and have sex.
Well, it doesn't exactly happen like that. JC decides to get drunk and have sex. Not necessarily with Justin, not that he'd like, put up a big protest about the idea or something, just with anyone, because he's a pretty horny guy and his hands are starting to cramp from all the masturbation. Also, the born again virgin jokes are getting really, really old, especially when they're coming from Trace, who looks like he hasn't gotten laid in the last decade.
There's a club and Justin hustles them up to VIP. They drink a lot even though Justin's afraid that it might damage JC's brain more, even though JC keeps telling Justin about the amulet, but like, seriously, Justin just doesn't understand the inner workings of dark magic so it's pretty useless to force the issue. Especially when there are shots of something that tastes like burning cinnamon and make JC feel like flying. Flying or dancing.
JC really likes being drunk. He almost sort of gets the attic thing now, although he could really do without the puke in his hair again. It's just starting to grow out a little and look pretty, JC doesn't want to fuck that up.
So there's shots and dancing and more shots. JC turns out to be a really good dancer, actually, and Justin gets really drunk and dances with him. It's probably not allowed, but JC has already decided that he doesn't want to be a popstar and Justin seems pretty sure he can get away with anything and still sell records, so it's cool. It's cool and they dance and it's hot. Justin sweats new sweat on him, which turns out to be hot even without the sex.
But it's a lot hotter with the sex.
JC doesn't try to over think it. They get back to the hotel and JC follows Justin into his room, pushes Justin up against the door, kisses him. He can't remember kissing before this, it's like his first kiss ever, but his body seems to remember so it's hot. Justin makes these little breathy moaning noises when JC kisses him, and it's pretty fantastic. JC doesn't wonder about his real first kiss. He just wants to remember this one.
JC doesn't know what he liked before, or what he thought he liked, but he knows what he wants now. He wants to be inside Justin. He wants Justin's dick in his mouth, he wants to hear Justin make those little stuttering sighing noises when JC fucks into him, all slow and slick. He wants to touch Justin everywhere and lick the sweat off Justin's lower back and spread Justin's legs as far apart as he can and just. Yes. He wants all of that. He wants Justin.
Justin wants it too.
*
"Why didn't we ever do this before?" JC asks after. They're lying on their sides, face-to-face, all lined up. Almost perfect except that Justin's just a little taller, but pretty much perfect if they tangle their legs together because then JC can't even tell about the two inches. "I mean, I wanted to. I always thought you were hot. I always loved you."
"C. You don't know that."
"Yeah, I do. And obviously you thought I was hot, before. I mean, is it even possible for someone to not think I'm hot? I'm pretty sure that's, like, an exercise in futility. Especially when I had the hair."
"Dude, you are way too fixated on your hair."
"So why didn't we do it before?"
Justin grins and kisses him once, soft. "Probably because we're both fucking retarded."
"Speak for yourself. I'm pretty sure I'm a genius."
*
Joey's show ends or maybe he gets kicked off, JC's not really sure how that works, but in any case he goes home and offers to take JC off Justin's hands for a while so Justin can finish the tour. Justin doesn't want him to leave. Well, he doesn't say that he doesn't want JC to leave, but he tries to keep JC too busy fucking to be able to leave, so it's not until Joey actually comes to get him that JC ends up going home.
It's not really home. Home is the bus, he thinks. That's what he knows, that's what he remembers. The bus and Justin and funny emails from Lance and calling in to Chris's radio interviews pretending to be a fan from Ireland, because Justin made him watch The Reel NSync over and over again until JC pretty much had it memorized. Home is watching Joey on TV while Justin performs, and again later, when Justin is almost passed out on the couch with his towel and his water.
Home is the bus and Justin, not this big empty house with its ugly, uncomfortable furniture. Everything is too clean here, and Joey looks around like he's not quite sure he belongs. JC sort of knows how he feels.
"Come on," JC says, "I just have one thing I want to do here, and then we can. I dunno. We should go to your house. I want to meet Brihanna. Is it. That's okay, right?"
Joey smiles and squeezes JC's neck, follows him up the stairs to JC's bedroom. The amulet is still on the floor in the closet where JC left it, right next to the boot JC used to smash it. Only. It's not smashed at all. Not even a chip or a crack or anything. JC just stares. He can't even fucking believe it. For the past two months everyone he knows thought he was a total basket case, when really, he just a fucking pussy who can't even shatter a magic amulet properly. Clearly, JC needs to start lifting weights.
"Holy shit," Joey says when JC picks the amulet up. "There really is a magic amulet."
"I told you there was."
"Well, yeah, but we thought you were insane. It's sort of understandable, dude."
JC stares at the amulet. He's pretty sure if they smash it, he'll get his memory back. He can go back to being who he was before all this, with the weird baby mama drama songs and the radio interviews and the awards shows and the red carpets and the fake girlfriends. He'd probably like Mean Eric again, and he wouldn't have to pretend to have anthrax anymore. So he's pretty sure about that, except it's maybe not what he wants anymore.
"Let's find a hammer or something," Joey says, and all JC can do is nod and follow Joey around the house, out into the garage. There's a whole row of tools and shit hanging up by a work bench out there that looks like it's never been used. Joey puts the amulet on the bench and grabs a hammer from the shelf. "You ready for this? You really think it'll work?"
JC shrugs. "It's worth a try, right?"
"If you say so," Joey says, and swings the hammer down.
*
"So there really was a Magic Amulet of Memory Loss after all?" Justin asks. They're at Chris's house for a Wii marathon and Lance has the controller, which is pretty annoying. Lance is taking about a year and half to create his character, even though they all know that he probably won't even play any of the games.
"No, your jaw is way bigger than that," Chris tells Lance, waving at the screen, "and your ears are all weird, you have to lower them, they don't look like that at all."
"Chris, I'm pretty sure my eyes also aren't made of stars, so it's not like it matters if my ears are the wrong height."
JC smiles and leans against Justin on the couch, tucks his head under Justin's arm until he gets the idea and puts it around JC's shoulders. "I told you guys there was an amulet. You never believe me about this stuff!"
"Well, it sounded pretty dumb, C," Lance says. Chris makes a grab for Lance's controller, but Lance stands up and holds it above his head, kicking out at Chris with socked feet until Chris gives up and settles back on the floor, glaring at Lance and mumbling about how some people just don't know what their own faces look like enough to create a stupid game character they won't even use.
"And technically, it wasn't magic," Joey says. "I mean, we shattered that fucker to pieces and JC still can't remember anything."
"I like him better this way," Chris says. "Only he really needs to stop talking about Lance's ass like that, he's gonna give Justin a complex."
"Lance has a nice ass," Justin says. "It's not JC's fault for noticing." He kisses JC, which is nice, it's always nice, and also hot, and also makes JC want to forget the stupid Wii even if Chris did promise he could play tennis as much as he wants as long as he wears the wrist strap and doesn't fling the controller into the television like last time, and just drag Justin somewhere more private for sex. Chris pretends to throw up into the popcorn bowl and Joey hits him.
"You really don't remember?" Justin asks later, when they're getting ready for bed, brushing their teeth and flossing and all that. JC spits into the sink and wipes his mouth off, looks at Justin standing behind him in the mirror. Justin doesn't look sad anymore, he doesn't say he misses JC. Sometimes he talks about before, but not that much. He doesn't look all pathetic and longing anymore. He looks pretty happy, like he has what he needs. That's how JC feels, too.
"I remember the things that matter," JC says, and smiles.