They were all backstage the next night, sort of waiting around for the opening act to go on. Anika stared at JC in contemplation, and he finally broke. "What?" he asked, almost whining.
"Can I stay backstage tonight?" she blurted.
"Me, too?" Clara asked.
"Me three?" Marissa added, bouncing up and down like a child. Justin shook his head in some disbelief.
JC shrugged. "I don't think you'll be in the way if you stay out of the way."
Chris burst into laughter. "Oh, that wasn't repetitive or redundant!"
"Shut up, Chris," Clara grinned. "JC's making a little sense. Maybe a penny's worth."
"No, he's not," Chris denied flatly, and flashed a smile at her. "But I think you guys'll be out of the way if you stay over there." He pointed to an out-of-the-way corner, where they would be able to see the whole backstage area.
"Can we still see the stage?" Clara asked, shooting him a look.
Marissa walked over and glanced around. "Not a chance. But we can see this monitor quite well." She pointed it out to the other two.
"Works for me," Clara grinned. "As long as I can see Justin's thrusts, I'm set."
"Ah, see, man, it's not you," Justin grinned.
Clara's grin widened. "Hey, Joey, Wren taught us everything, if you know what I mean. And I need to see if she's as good as the original."
Joey grinned. "Really?"
Justin looked confused. "Who's Wren, and what everything did she teach you?"
Clara grinned. "She was a girl in one of my classes. She insisted on performing one of your songs for our talent show, and she got every little thing down pat."
Music started, dim and rumbling through the building. The opening act had gone on stage. Lance suddenly appeared, out of breath, eyes wild. He pulled to a stop by a chair and closed his eyes, trying to calm down. JC strode over to him and gripped his shoulder; he flinched. "Where have you been?" he asked. "We've been waiting for you." Lance sighed and mumbled an apology.
"I could arrange for you to meet Darrin. I think he taught Justin everything he knows," Joey grinned.
"What?" Justin demanded, looking between them in confusion.
"Justin... you wouldn't understand."
He scowled. "Why? Too young?"
"That's my line," Marissa teased him gently. "Calm down." She glanced at Lance, a little worried. He hadn't moved.
"No," Clara said, "because you weren't there. We might let you see the tape, though." She leaned up against Joey, who put his arm around her.
Justin nodded shortly and went over to one of the tables; this one held bottled water. He grabbed one, then turned suddenly. "Tape?"
"Yes, Justin, tape." She sounded like she was talking to a small child. "Joey and I made an interesting tape. One you might want to see. You might need a cold shower, though. After." Joey flushed slightly. Justin's eyes widened.
"Too much information," Chris said with a straight face. "Just... ew." He shuddered for effect. Marissa chuckled.
"Kidding!" Clara laughed. "It's a tape of me and my students at a talent show. We did one of your songs."
"That's a relief," Chris sighed.
"But maybe...." she continued.
Chris looked up, one eyebrow raised, a smile playing about his lips. Marissa laughed softly, and Joey watched Clara to see what she'd say next, looking almost as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Okay, once again, kidding. You guys really need to work on your sense of humor," Clara chuckled.
Chris looked mock-offended. "I? I need to work..." He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know if you can keep her, Joe. I might find myself strangling her in my sleep, thinking she's Tim."
"Fine," Clara said. "I can see when I'm not wanted. I'll just go bother Anika, she appreciates a good joke." She turned to see Anika wasn't even paying attention; she and JC seemed quite cozy. Marissa was trying not to laugh, one hand over her mouth, but snickers were still making themselves heard. Throwing up her hands, Clara stalked off. With a confused glance at Chris, who shrugged, Joey went after her.
She ducked into a dressing room; he followed her. "What's wrong?" he asked gently, leaning against the dressing room door so she couldn't escape.
She gestured absently. "Don't worry."
"You look upset," he told her. "Of course I worry."
"Thanks," she smiled slightly. "Chris just rubs me wrong sometimes. I think we're too similar...."
Joey smiled and stepped towards her, taking her hand. "Yes. And right now he's especially irritating. For the same reason I was."
"What?" she asked.
"Well, for me, it was missing you. And being worried about you. For Chris...." He paused, uncomfortable. "He messed up bad with Marissa, and doesn't know how to fix it, how to express his feelings for her." He chuckled. "It sounds like a high school romance, but I can't do any better. Sorry."
"I understand, sort of," she grinned, and pulled him closer to her, slipping an arm around his waist. "How'd he mess up with her?"
He paused again. "Remember that girl at the beach? The one that knocked that little girl's tower down?"
"Vaguely," Clara said, but she did remember her, and what Joey had said to her, including the pain that had been in his voice. And what Lance had said about her later.
"When I found out what she..." He paused, tense, and tried to make himself relax again. "Anyway, it really hurt, and I think Chris took it personally, sort of took it into his hands to make sure Marissa didn't do anything like that to the rest of us, so he... accused her of... using our friendship for... the perks."
"What?" she demanded. "How could he? That..." she sputtered.
Joey gently covered her mouth, and she looked up at him with blazing eyes. "He had his reasons, Clara. He'd been burned really bad, too." He shrugged. "Anyway, they came down to Orlando, and I insisted they schedule at least one day in with us. Then we invited them to that benefit, where I met you." He gave her a gentle kiss, then smiled at her. "She danced with him. Asked him to dance, no less, which seemed to be the beginning of some sort of.... truce. And he started emailing her again, and then was real adamant about getting her out here on tour with us. Anika invited her, but she didn't seem to want to come. I think JC thought it was because of Chris." He shrugged again. "But she came, and I think he's not entirely sure what to do now."
"Really?" Clara asked, disbelief written all over her face.
"I don't know what to tell him. He's got to figure it out on his own. But, yes, he's irritating. And I'm sorry." He kissed her again.
"Oh... It's not your fault," she told him.
"To some extent, yes, it is. I introduced them, more or less. But still... he hasn't figured this one out yet. He'll be more irritating than normal until he does." He kissed her forehead. "They'll be looking for us, soon."
"But right now, keep kissing me," she whispered.
"I thought you'd say that," he whispered back, and pressed his lips to hers.
A knock on the door interrupted them. "Mmm, go 'way," Clara mumbled.
"I can't." It was Justin who opened the door, a vaguely dissatisfied look on his face. "Joe, we need you now."
"Later," Clara said, and went back to kissing Joey.
"I could send Tim," Justin threatened. There wasn't much humor in his voice. "We're late already, thanks to Lance. Come on, Joe."
Joey sighed and gave her one last kiss. "We'd better go," he said softly. "We won't leave you behind, I promise."
"All right." Clara pouted as Joey let her go. "But tonight, you're so mine."
Justin rolled his eyes and turned away. "After he's 20,000 screaming fans'," he muttered.
Joey gave Clara a hug. "I'll see you at first costume change. But you'd better stay in the corner. It's a mad house." He started walking back, his arm around her waist.
"Okay." She slipped her arm around his waist. "Hey, Justin!" she called after the younger man. "Why don't you sacrifice yourself to the 20,000 screaming fans? My man needs to come back to me!"
Justin didn't turn around, vanishing around the corner. Joey lifted an eyebrow.
"Was is something I said?" Clara asked innocently.
Joey shrugged. "Dunno." They entered the back stage area. Across the room they could see Justin talking urgently to Chris, his gestures portraying his frustration. That ended when Chris leaned closer and said something very softly into Justin's ear. Justin froze and shot a look in their direction, his eyes huge, then he looked at Chris like he'd lost his mind. "No way!" he denied loudly, and sank down in the chair next to him, frustration on his face. As Joey and Clara got closer, Marissa leaned closer to Chris.
"Was that evidence of your superior schooling?" she asked.
"Chris had schooling?" Clara asked.
Chris stared at her, his mouth open and eyes wide in disbelief. Justin's frustration dissolved into laughter as he caught sight of his friend's face. Marissa was already helplessly in the throes of her laughter, collapsed on the floor and gasping for breath.
Clara left Joey alone, moving to stand next to Chris. "Was it something I said, baby?" she asked, leaning on Chris. His mouth snapped shut, but if possible, his eyes got bigger. "Justy really shouldn't try to get on my bad side," she whispered. "You shouldn't either."
"Don't call him Justy," Chris said automatically, grabbing her around the waist to keep her from moving. "And yes, it was something you said." He let her go, and she walked back over to Joey.
"But Justy is such a cutsy name. It fits him!"
Joey saw the expression that crossed Justin's face, and grinned down at his girlfriend. "You are so in for it. Justin hates that nick name."
"From who?" Clara asked, ignoring the second half of his warning.
"From those two." Joey nodded at Chris and Justin, who were watching them, identical smirks on their faces.
"They wouldn't hurt me, would you, guys?" Clara asked, smiling.
Justin just grinned innocently; Chris shrugged. "Hurt you? No. No reason to."
Marissa got to her feet, wobbling, and leaned on the nearest person, who happened to be Lance. Lance flinched away from her, and she nearly fell again, catching herself at the last minute. She gave him a confused look.
"What's wrong, Marissa?" Clara asked, and Marissa looked at her.
"Time!" someone yelled before Marissa could say anything, and the guys all left the room.
Marissa grinned. "Oh, that expression on Chris' face was classic. "Chris has schooling?" and with a straight face." She chuckled as Anika pulled on her arm to get her over to the corner.
"Come on, they're gonna start," she urged them.
"Fine, fine," Clara muttered, and followed her.
The show was interesting from the monitor, but seeing the chaos backstage was eye-opening. They could tell the second costume change by the way everyone stopped moving and got out of the way.
"Wow," Clara mumbled. "They work so hard...." Her eyes lit up. "Paper! I need paper, now, and something to write with!"
Marissa gave her one glance, then handed her a notebook and pen. Almost frantically, Clara flipped past pages full of writing, most of which was crossed out, to an empty page. For most of the rest of the show, she worked almost feverishly on whatever she'd written on that page. Marissa and Anika only spared her a couple of glances, enjoying the show - both the one on stage and the one that took place before them. Marissa had the feeling, once, when Clara looked up in response to a glance, that she'd seen the envy on Marissa's face, and resolved not to look at her again.
The guys had a longer break just before the first encore, and Lance paused by them, already changed and drinking thirstily from one of the bottles of water. Chris, half dressed and looking pleasantly tired, jogged over and grabbed a bottle himself. He took a long drink, then eyed his friend.
"Lance, what is wrong?" he demanded, half grinning. "It's like you've totally forgotten all the choreography or something!"
"I'm fine," Lance said, but his voice was soft, withdrawn, and Chris paused, watching him with narrowed eyes. Lance seemed to shrink in, his shoulders hunched, and he fled for the other side of the back stage area. Chris watched him go, his face a mixture of frustration and curiosity, but only for a moment. Someone yelled his name; he finished changing and ran out.
Clara watched him go, confused, her pen stilled for the moment. Marissa had also watched him run off, eyes narrowed, then she turned to Clara, almost nervously. "You done with that?" The encore started explosively, and she started and turned to the monitor, then looked back at Clara. "You can leave that in the notebook if you want, until we get back."
"Almost. This last line isn't working," she muttered, then glanced up at Marissa and grinned. "And thanks."
"Sh," Anika hissed, and Marissa grinned at her, then turned back to the monitor.
About then, Matt appeared. "You girls need to get on the crew bus if you're going back this first trip," he said. The three got up and followed him swiftly through the milling crowd, joined by the occasional person who was not needed for the after show stuff.
The bus was quiet, everyone relaxing after the chaos of backstage. Clara was still working on whatever she had, and Marissa looked a touch nervous, her eye on her notebook. They pull up into the parking lot just as the guy's bus pulls away from the front door. Their bus pulled around to the back, and everyone started to get up and gather their stuff.
"Marissa, can I talk to you for a sec?" Clara asked as people began to file off the bus.
"Sure. What's up?"
"I'm going in," Anika said. "I'll meet you there?"
Marissa waved with a grin. "Definitely." As her friend stepped off the bus, Marissa turned her attention to Clara.
"I was hoping you could help me out with this last line," Clara said.
Marissa gave a soft snort, then shrugged. "Sure, okay." She took the notebook and read the poem.
Marissa and Clara got to their room just as Joey closed the door to Lance's, looking frustrated. Clara took his arm, smiling up at him. He smiled back. "He won't budge. He's somehow picking up one of JC's worst traits: his stubbornness," he muttered. "We've got a bunch of the crew in Justin's room, we're watching a movie. You ladies going to join us?"
"Of course," Clara grinned. "Wait for me?"
He nodded, and the two girls got into their room. Clara grabbed a pillow and left immediately. "I'll be there shortly," Marissa said as they left.
After her shower, she knocked on Lance's door. He opened it.
"Hi," she said softly. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," he said shortly, and turned away from her.
"Sick of being asked that?" she asked, following him into the room.
"Mostly." He sat down on the bed and switched on the TV. She reached around him and turned it off, taking the remote from him. He gave it up without a struggle.
"Is ‘what's wrong?' off limits as well?" He turned to look at her, then nodded. "Lance, you've got everyone worried. Are you going to join us in Justin's room?"
"No." That, at least, was firm, loud, and nearly hysterical.
"Why not?"
"I don't want to." He sounded like a petulant child. A terrified petulant child. Marissa sighed, and began trying to talk him into it.
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