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Adjusting	By : Bia Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Eminem/Marshall Mathers Views: 7351 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Eminem (Marshall Mathers). I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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JC was surprised when he woke up to a room filled with afternoon sunlight, until memories of last night surfaced. Marshall had obviously decided he could sleep in. But he was ready to get on with his life. Determined not to wallow in the past, he hopped out of the bed with only a slight wince. He headed for the shower, fingers poking at the edges of his cuts. Marshall would probably only need to change the bandages one last time. It seemed like everything was well on its way to healing.

Em started breakfast as soon as he heard the shower start. He'd spent the better part of the morning debating with himself about Josh's place in his life. Not quite believing he was getting himself into this. But what else could he do? Hailie had declared him family with just one word. He looked after family. Sometimes it was all you had. If Proof hadn't looked out for him he'd have ended up dead or in jail somewhere. He was pretty sure that's why he'd stuck it out with Kim for so long. She was family and you didn't quit on family. He'd learned that from Proof and Mrs. H. So he'd struggled to make it work much longer than he probably should have. Until the bitch had betrayed him. Then Mrs. H had declared her unwelcome in her home. That was reason enough for Em to be quit of the bitch. Family was always welcome at her place; if you weren't welcome you weren't family. Marshall wondered what Mama H would think of another scrawny white boy in the family. Em paused, spatula in hand. "You're not actually thinking of introducing Josh to Mrs. H?" There was a suspicious silence. Em sighed, and shoveled eggs onto a plate as JC came down the stairs.

JC shifted nervously in the kitchen doorway as he came to a halt. Wondering how last night was going to affect things between them.

Em quirked a brow at him. "What the fuck are you standing there for? Sit down an eat," he growled out.

JC grinned. Not much apparently, he thought sitting down. He started shoveling breakfast into his mouth. One of these days he'd have to make breakfast for Marshall and Hailie. "So what's on the agenda for today," JC asked as they pushed back from the table.

Marshall tossed something shiny at him as they entered the den. JC caught it by reflex. "Hey! I was wondering where this had gone. You've had it?"

Em glanced from the cell phone to the kid. "Yeah, well. It ain't a break if a nigga's calling you every five damn minutes."

JC had to agree as he flipped open the phone. He grimaced, eyes darkening at the number of messages from Justin. Nearly sixty in all, his voice mail was filled. He scrolled through the incoming call list to be sure no one but the guys had called. Then deleted them without listening to any.

Em watched him from beneath lowered lids. He'd seen the kid's unconscious shudder. Knew it had to be 'cause of Timberfuck.

"Why bring it out now?" JC asked, looking up.

Em dropped onto the couch. "Figured we could handle business early. You call your boys. I call mine. Leaves us plenty of time to take Hailie to the show, and get you some more shit."

JC hid a smirk. He was pretty sure that was only half the reason. Marshall was such a mother-fucking hen, so he probably wanted to be in earshot of the phone. Just in case. JC decided to let the lame excuse slide as he dialed.

Em picked up the house phone, dialing a familiar number.

"Fifty." Came the curt answer.

"It's Em. I got business. I won't be in this week," he said. One ear tuned into Josh's futile attempts to connect with someone from his group.

"Studio time?" Fifty asked, eyes locked on the woman in his bed.

"Week after. I'll call. Let you know."

"Cool," muttered Fifty as the woman slithered up the bed.

"Later, nigga," muttered Em, hanging up.

Fifty tossed the cell toward the nightstand, dragging the groupie up onto his lap.

~~~*~~~

"Hey, Johnny," said JC when N'sync's manager finally answered.

"Chasez," came the incredulous growl.

Em paused mid-dial as he heard Josh finally connect with someone. He listened distractedly as the Aftermath machine picked up. Rattling off basically the same message he'd given Fifty before hanging up. Attention fixed entirely on Josh, who'd reached someone who appeared highly displeased if the length Josh was holding the phone away from his ear was any indication.

After another minute of yelling the kid snapped into the phone, "Shut it, Johnny."

Em grinned at the stunned silence.

"I'm taking this month off. Celebrity is almost done. The tracks I need to lay can be done that month before we go on tour," insisted JC firmly. "Deal with it." He hung up before Johnny could explode. Em might just be having a bad influence on me, he thought. He sighed before dialing the one number he knew would be answered on a Sunday.

Lance sat up as a strangely familiar sound penetrated his brain. He blinked fuzzily for several minutes before what it was registered. Jayce! He scrambled across the bed, ignoring the grunt as his knee dug into Jesse's side. He snatched up his cell phone. "Where the hell are you?!" The deep bass barked into the phone without thinking.

Em tensed as the voice actually managed to roar out of the cell.

"Hello to you to Lance," JC said suddenly calm. He could feel Marshall's gaze on him. The rapper had actually moved closer sitting on the arm of the couch. Poised like some deadly snake, ready to strike at any moment.

"Don't give me that," growled the bass. "What the fuck happened to you? When are you coming back? Most importantly are you okay?" Lance finished sounding nearly breathless with relief.

"I'm fine, Lansten," JC assured his band mate. "I just needed to get away. I'm actually calling to tell you guys it's going to be for longer than I thought. At least a month," he said, slouching down in his chair.

"A month," bellowed Lance beside him Jesse shot up as his voice boomed around the room. "Jayce, you can't be gone that long. There's too much going on. The tour! The album! The press! Management is not going to go for this."

"Management's already been informed," said JC, taking comfort in Marshall's steady gaze. "Lance, I'm taking this time off. As for the press, we all know Justin's more than happy to take up the slack."

Marshall's gaze narrowed at the mention of his ex.

"Speaking of Justin," began Lance as he was reminded of the younger man and his foul mood of late. He stood, pacing. Justin wasn't going to like this. Why was he always the one stuck dealing with this stuff?

"Actually, I'd rather not speak of Justin," muttered JC tensing unconsciously.

Em stood, moving nearer. Ready to take the phone if Josh sounded like he was going to freak. Or cave.

"But Justin's going to be a real bitch after you tell him," groaned Lance.

"I'm not telling him," said JC quietly.

Lance came to an abrupt halt. "What? How can you not call your boyfriend?"

"Ex," barked JC, becoming irritated. "Ex, Lance. Right now, I could give a fuck about what he wants."

"Yeah," growled Em. "Tell Timberfuck to take a flying fuck."

Lance blinked at the rough growl that accompanied JC's words. Stunned speechless for a second by not only the stranger's apparent dislike of Justin, but also JC's comment. It had been awhile since he'd heard that I'm-in-charge tone from JC.

JC glared at Marshall mouthing, 'Timberfuck'.

Em shrugged.

"Lance that's it," he said turning back to the phone.

Lance snapped out of his shock. "Wait," he cried. "Will you at least tell me who you're with?"

"A friend," said JC, eyes darting over to Marshall. Who rolled his eyes but didn't say anything to refute the statement. "He's in the business so no worries. I'ma chill with him for a bit. I'll be back and ready to roll in a month."

Lance groaned. He could hear the old stubbornness laced through JC's voice. This was the JC that gave orders and expected to be obeyed. "All right," he sighed.

"Oh, tell Chris for me. 'kay? Bye," JC said quickly, hanging up before Lance could object.

Lance glared at the phone in disbelief. He cast a regretful look at Jesse's reclining figure, before yanking last night's jeans back on. He was so getting Chris to kick JC's ass when he got back. Shoving the shit detail off on him. He didn't want to have to deal with a pissy Justin. Maybe he could get Chris to do it. Shirtless and barefoot, he padded down the hotel hallway, muttering beneath his breath. Being so close in age it usually fell to him to deal with Justin when JC wasn't around. That was just how things were. Besides Chris tended to be too abrupt when dealing seriously with Justin. The older man had two modes with Justin big brother, and elder. He just knew he was going to get stuck telling Justin. He hoped he'd be able to pawn it off on Chris, which was unlikely. Not after disturbing him on a Sunday afternoon on their first day off in three weeks. Chris was bound to be unpleasant, especially since Dani had begged off coming out this weekend. Still news about Jayce should grant him some leniency. Lance took a deep breath, and knocked.

Chris answered the door, scowl firmly in place.

"Jayce called!" To save his hide, that was the first thing Lance said.

Chris bit back an irritable growl and ushered Lance into the room. "Is he all right?" he asked, dropping onto the sofa.

"More than all right," Lance drawled. "And I am not going to be the one to tell Justin." Lance gave him a pained look.

A grin started to work its way onto Chris's face. This had to be good. Anything that Jayce did to ruin the infant's day was bound to give Chris a happy. As much as he loved Justin, his behavior of late had really begun to piss Chris off. "Enough with the suspense already. Spill."

"Apparently, the two-week vacation wasn't enough for our boy. He’s decided to take a month off. A month!" Lance wasn't thrilled with that. The problems JC's absence could possibly start didn't bear thinking about.

Chris could tell Lance was worried. The kid was always keeping an eye on the groups P.R. and stuff. This was bound to cause a stir. One of them taking off for that long would raise questions. But if anyone deserved time off it was JC. If he wanted it, he'd get it. They would just cover for him. "I hope you didn't give him a hard time about it," Chris said after a moment.

"Between him and the guy growling into the phone I didn't get the chance."

Chris's eyes lit up. Guy? "Do tell. Do tell."

Lance hid a smirk. He knew he had Chris hooked. "You'll tell Justin?"

Chris knew he was being manipulated. But seeing as it was Lance and he rarely tried it, he let it slide. "Yeah. Or better yet," Chris smirked. "Britney."

Lance grinned back. He knew that smirk. It was Chris' planning mischief smirk. The one that screamed he was up to no good. And whoever was on the receiving end had better pray for mercy. With the burden of having to deal with Justin having been passed on, he could enjoy Jayce's good fortune and dish. "I'm lying in bed when my cell phone rings. Who's on the other end? JC. Is he apologetic? Remorseful? Noo! He tells me, he's taking a month off. And," Lance held up a finger to emphasize his next words. "Management has already been informed."

Chris was vibrating in his seat. He could tell Lance was building up to something big. Normally, he'd demand the kid get to the point but he could feel the payoff on this was worth the wait.

"Justin? I ask concerned," Lance's eyes flashed. "You know what he said?"

Chris barely refrained from screaming, "What? What?!"

"He said and I quote 'I could give a fuck about what he wants'."

Chris's mouth dropped open, and he almost crowed. This was the first time in years years that Jayce hadn't been concerned about what the infant wanted.

"Oh, but that's not all. Right after I heard a male voice snarling into the phone." Lance finished gleefully. "Tell Timberfuck to take a flying fuck."

Chris promptly lost it. "Timberfuck!" he snorted. "That was definitely worth getting out of bed today. Timberfuck! God, I love that." Chris slowly sat back up catching his breath. "Did you get a name?"

"Unfortunately, no. All he'd say was that 'he' was in the industry."

"How did JC sound? Really," asked Chris, holding Lance's gaze. As much as he'd played it off with the others, Chris had been seriously concerned about JC's disappearing act. Two weeks of no contact had made him edgy. Unbeknownst to the guys he'd been using some of his old contacts to track JC down. But if he were really okay, he'd need to call them off.

Lance sat back in the chair thinking seriously about the question. JC hadn't been himself in nearly a year. He'd worn himself ragged during their battles with Lou. He and Chris had spent hours going over everyone's statements, and making sure they were taken care off. JC had already seemed stretched thin, and Britney's usurping of his place in Justin's affections had really seemed to do a number on him. He'd begun to grow aloof. There'd been a timid almost fragile sense about him, like without Justin he was falling apart. So how had JC sounded? "Like he had his shit together," said Lance, finally. "Almost like JC before Brit and Lou."

Chris felt the knot of worry that had been living in his gut loosen. Lance was pretty good at hearing what people weren't saying. If he thought JC was doing well then he probably was. "Good," he said quietly, standing. "If JC needs this time, he's got it. Make whatever arrangements you have to with the P.R. people. If Johnny or Anita give you trouble have them come talk to me. We'll all do our share to cover."

Nodding Lance stood not even questioning Chris's decision. Chris's word was usually final as the eldest. The only one to actually get away with contradicting him was JC. But that was cause the two of them were like the parents of their little family. "All right. I'll rearrange our schedules and email the changes to you guys later."

"No rush," said Chris following him to the door. "Just make sure JC's absence stays mostly unremarked."

Lance agreed quietly.

Closing the door behind the blonde, Chris stood still for a second debating over his next course of action. He headed back into the bedroom and dug through the pile of clothes on the floor for his cell. He dialed a familiar number. "Hey, man" he said when it was answered. Dropping onto his bed with a chuckle, he ignored the half-hearted snarls. "Look, I just got word from my boy. He's MIA voluntarily. Leave off. I don't want to wreck his thing."

"You don't want to know what I found out?" Was the slightly incredulous reply.

Chris mock snarled into the phone. "Now, I know your mother didn't drop you on your head."

"He killed a bottle or two of J.D. at the bar before a blond guy sat down beside him. The waitress I talked to said they looked like they knew each other. She thought he looked familiar, but she wasn't close enough to identify him. Haven't managed to track down the bartender who served them. One of the millions of aspiring actors, he quit to pursue his dream full time. Give me a bit and I will find him. I did manage to discover the gated community your boy was dropped off at, Calla Viesta."

Chris frowned at the name. It was one of the largest in the area. A number of well-to-do people and artists lived there. This at least confirmed what JC had told Lance. "Let it go," he said slowly. "If you get a hit on his cards let me know. Other than that stop looking."

He listened silently for several minutes, before giving a low laugh. "Nah, not quite ready to give up the good boy bander bit yet. Listen, thanks Marc," he said quietly. "Yeah. Yeah. I know. I'll keep in touch better."

Chris hung up with that promise and then dialed a depressingly familiar number with untold glee. His thoughts wandered as the phone rang. He knew he was being unbelievably petty in taking his displeasure out on Britney. The blame lay equally on Justin's shoulders. He couldn't help feeling Britney bore the burnt of the responsibility. It seemed like the moment she came into the picture Justin lost his mind. It was little things at first but the ego stroking only made it worse. When Justin dumped JC Chris had been torn. On one hand he'd felt it was good for JC not being strung along anymore. On the other he'd been upset that Justin had chosen Bitchney over Jayce. Aw, well. There was no accounting for taste. Part of him still hoped the infant would come to his fucking senses and crawl back to JC on his hands and knees.

"Hello."

Chris winced at the piercing voice, and people had the nerve to think his voice was irritating. "Hello Bri-ti-nay," he drawled slowly, settling back against the headboard. Chris could almost see the sneer on her face when she spoke again.

"It's you," she said. There was a slight hesitation. "Hello, Chris. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I've been trying to reach Justin all morning," said Chris easily. Not even blinking at the lie. "When the thought occurred to me, maybe I should check with his girlfriend. Is he there?" He asked knowing the answer. Knew exactly where Justin was. There was purpose to his madness. Chris was aware that Britney sensed something going on between JC and Justin. But he knew she was too blinded by her own self-importance to ever suspect the truth. She actually believed JC was chasing after Justin. Chris rolled his eyes. She might not be a natural blond but she sure made up for it in other ways.

"Are you listening to me," snapped Britney impatiently.

Chris started out of his thoughts at the harpy screech. "Uh, yeah. I guess I'll just leave a message. You'll probably talk to him before I will," he answered slyly grinning. He knew Britney would distort whatever he told her. She wouldn't be able to help herself. It was no better than Justin deserved, thought Chris. Maybe now he'd see what a good thing he'd let slip away.

"Well what is it?"

"Tell him we heard from JC. He's fine. He hooked up with someone at the V-day party and he's taking a little vacation. He'll be back in a month," he replied, voice carefully neutral. "We'll need to cover for him till then." This all depended on her response and the innuendo he could work in. He waited for Britney's jealously to get the better of her.

"Met someone?" she said, hesitantly. She hoped Chris meant what she thought he did. "A guy someone? He's finally met someone?"

Chris grinned a shark's grin. "I guess. I know it's a guy. Apparently, he's staying with him. Jayce said he was in the business and knew the score. Personally, I hope so. JC has been alone for far too long. I wish him many orgasms."

"Ew-Ohh," Britney, finished softly.

Chris's brow furrowed. He heard the aborted eww. Knew she was making that rabbit face that pedophile's found cute. A tiny part of him wanted to find out what she'd look like if someone were to tell her, her boyfriend liked to eww with JC as well. But he bit his tongue; he'd laid the groundwork. The rest was up to Britney. She was nothing if not predictable. Maybe this would get it through Justin's thick skull, and if not... well he'd made his bed and he could lie in it. "While I've enjoyed this lovely conversation, I'm a busy man," said Chris barely holding in his snickers. "Buh-bye." He wanted to see the look on Justin's face when it hit him that JC had finally moved on.
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