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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.

Chapter List
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Britney stormed into the Excelsior, her boyfriend's current residence. Brown eyes snapping in annoyance. She hadn't seen her lover in four days. She hated having to hunt him down and with JC's absence had thought this sort of thing wouldn’t happen. She came to a halt at the bank of elevators, finger jabbing at the up button several times in frustration.

Across the lobby Chris sat up as a familiar if despised shriek echoed through the lobby. His gaze quickly found the source; an unholy glee lit the elfin features. He loved it when a plan came together. Almost bouncing he scurried after Justin’s girlfriend.

Britney stalked down the hallways fixed on her goal. She came to a halt at Justin’s door, taking several deep breaths to compose herself. Her mama always said a man never wanted to marry a nag, so she’d best learn how to get her way without doing it. Collecting herself, she knocked.

Justin ignored the first knock, lost in thought. His boyfriend had been gone for two weeks without a word. He was torn between worry and fury. JC knew better than to leave without telling him. Obviously, he hadn’t quite learned his lesson.

When the next knock was followed by a familiar cry, Justin cursed. He was not in the mood to deal with the bitch. Having Jayce back in his bed those two weeks had reminded him of all the good things he’d deprived himself of. And now this involuntary fast. No, he was not in a good mood. But she wouldn’t go away until she was satisfied. With a quite snarl, he climbed to his feet.

Britney stiffened at the look Justin gave her before he turned away. She followed him into the room shutting the door behind her.

Chris nearly flew out of the stairwell and without an ounce of shame pressed a glass and his ear to the closed door.

Inside Justin dropped down onto the couch and turned on the television, subtly dismissing her.

Britney was silent for several seconds, wondering exactly what had crawled up her boyfriend's ass. Everything was going so well. Over the last few weeks they'd made the news a dozen times, half the spots individually. "What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked settling beside him. She caught his hands in hers.

Justin smothered the spark of temper at her unwanted presence. Britney wasn't just a good fuck. She was good for his image. He wasn't ready to cut her loose just yet. He had to remain at least civil. "I'm worried about Jayce. He's still gone. He hasn't even called."

Britney sighed, the sound filled with long standing annoyance. Even JC's absence caused her problems. "Yes, he has. Chris told me to tell you a couple days ago."

"And you're just telling me this now," Justin snapped, turning to face her. His brow furrowed in displeasure.

Britney's mouth curved into a pout, arms crossing in righteous indignation. "If you'd come around more, like a good boyfriend, I'd have told you days ago."

His girlfriend's displeasure didn't even begin to register with Justin. Mind fixed on only one thing, JC. "Well, what did he say," he snapped, straighten unconsciously beside her. If he'd been a cat his ears would have pricked, whiskers fairly quivering at finally catching scent of his prey.

Britney shrugged, pout deepening. "He'll be gone a month. He shacked up with some orgasm friend." She frowned as Justin tensed. The hand she held clenched in hers. She glanced up, eyes meeting his. The icy gaze locked with her's for an instant before he looked away. Britney suddenly felt uneasy, and she dropped his hand sitting back.

Justin ignored her discomfort as easily as he'd ignored her displeasure. A rising tide of disbelief and fury vied for dominance inside him. He stood abruptly, unable to sit still. Britney's words echoed in his head. For along moment he almost convinced himself she was speaking a foreign language. She couldn't possibly have said what he thought she had. "What," he growled beginning to pace back and forth like some great cat.

"He's shacked up with some guy. Thank goodness. It really was pathetic the way he sniffed around you. As if you would ever go there." Suddenly relaxing, Britney hid a smirk. She could hear the anger in Justin's voice.

Justin only heard, 'shacked up'.

"Yep," continued Britney blithely. "And Chris said you guys were gonna have to cover for him too." It was about time he realized JC was excess baggage. Normally JC could do no wrong. Maybe this time.

Chris stepped back from the door, a smug look firmly in place. The moment Britney said orgasm friend he'd known what Justin's reaction would be. He knew it was only a matter of time before Justin would send Bitchney on her way. The bottle blond would find herself escorted from the hotel before she could blink. Then he'd have a visit from the youngest member of their little family, hunting him down to confirm what she'd said.

Inside his suite, Chris made his way to the mini bar. He glared at the seven-dollar coke but opened it anyway. He couldn't help but remember when the very thought would have been anathema. In the old days, he would have pulled on a windbreaker, and took his ass over to the drugstore on 5th and Vine. But a lot of things were different now. Fame had a way of changing you, whether you fought it or not. He'd fought, and for the most part was if not happy with the changes, content. Life was better and worse. He'd always thought that 'it was the best of times, worst of times line' was bullshit. Goes to show what he knew. The last year had been harrowing and amazing. The lawsuit. The album. Everything. They'd faced it together. Drawing closer as a group, but slowly losing what made them a family. N'sync was better than ever, but the brothers weren't as close. He'd done his best to mitigate some of the hell they'd been going through. But in the end all of them had felt the pressure. They'd bowed but not broken, adjusting. Lance and Joey, who'd always been close, seemed to exclude themselves even further. He knew he'd contributed to the drifting apart. Time away while setting up FuMan. Dani. He'd let things go to far.

But what truly worried him was this JC, Justin thing. Something wasn't right.

"Speak of the devil," muttered Chris as pounding erupted from the door, pulling him from his thoughts. Any amusement he had at the situation was rapidly vanishing as Justin bellowed his name. Justin, Chris thought had changed the most. For one he'd never have approached him like this before. Of course some would attribute that to his growing up. Chris's gaze narrowed. He wasn't so sure that was it. "I'm afraid Chris isn't in at the moment. He has better things to do than deal with spoiled infants," Chris snarked as he slumped against the wall by the door.

Outside the door, Justin's jaw clenched and he forced himself to take a deep breath. He closed his eyes counting to ten. Chris was obviously in a mood. He knew if he didn't get himself under control, Chris could and would ignore him. He kept counting. At sixty he took another deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Chris, could I speak to you?"

Chris let Justin stew for several minutes before he finally opened the door. He lounged in the doorway. Seven-dollar coke still in his hand. He looked Justin up and down slowly. "Why are you here?" he asked, quizzically.

Justin bit back a curse. If he was glad about one thing their growing success was changing it was this. This almost mob mentality they group had. Chris's position as the boss 'cause he was the eldest had always irked him. With their success the record companies were now approaching him apart from the others. Soon, he wouldn't have to put up with this crap.

Chris made an impatient noise and Justin's attention refocused. "You guys heard from JC and didn't tell me." Justin struggled to keep the anger from his voice. A futile struggle as Chris could see it plain as day.

Chris straightened slowly taking in the narrowed gaze and clenched fists. It hit him that Justin really was pissed. Genuinely upset that they hadn't seen fit to tell him his ex -whom he'd just treated like shit- had called. Chris found himself growing ticked off. He couldn't believe the fucking nerve of this kid. "Talk to Lance," he barked moving to shut the door. As much as he'd set out to goad Justin the kid had no right to cop this attitude. Not with him. Especially not over JC. The foot in the door surprised him momentarily. He glanced down at it then up at Justin. For an instant something flickered behind the bright blue eyes, and if Chris had hackles they'd have raised. Chris's dark eyes dropped to half-mast, and the usually high-pitched voice seemed to lose its tone. "We are done," he said softly aware of the underlying threat he'd put in his voice. He'd never had to take that tone with one of his own before. To do so now disturbed him. That he had to spoke volumes about the growing level of wrongness between them.

Justin met and held Chris's gaze. He could see the strained patience in the older man's gaze. He wasn't quite ready to challenge Chris yet. Justin stepped back, and walked away without another word.

Chris shut the door with a growled curse, glared down at the coke in his hand and decided he needed something stronger.

There was definitely something wrong in the state of N'sync. Chris mentally started tallying up the problems as he paced the room. First and foremost, something wasn't right between Josh and Justin. As soon as he got hold of JC he was getting to the bottom of it. Which brought him to the second problem JC was avoiding him. Playing phone tag with Lance. Third, Justin's attitude and the fact that he'd actually had to take that tone with Justin. He understood spreading your wings. Finding your footing and all that. Justin had always been spoiled. So the Diva attitude wasn't exactly a surprise. And he had to admit to enabling it in part. They all had. But he wasn't about to put up with this shit.

Damn. He wanted needed to talk to Josh. Except his brother was MIA with a disgusted groan Chris stomped over to the mini bar. Snagging the miniature bottle of J.D. he downed it in two swigs. He wasn't sure how to go about fixing things. He was used to JC running interference. That was just the way things worked. Normally, he only dealt with Justin in big brother mode. Best buds. Though not so much, not since Britney. Their brotherhood had its own little hierarchy. When they'd first started out, he'd shouldered the business aspect. JC was the group's support. Chris didn't do the emotional shit well. Homesick Lance. Partying Joey. Justin. That was JC's gig. In no time, it all fell into place. If there was a problem there'd be a group meeting, discussion with him and JC having the final say on the matter.

In the beginning Lance had tended to go to Joey when he had a problem. Chris knew it was because he'd initially made the younger boy nervous. As the last addition to the group Lance had been a little unsure of his place, and Joey made him feel safe. Justin usually pleaded his case with JC for obvious reasons; JC let him get away with murder. He on the other hand treated Justin like one of his kid sisters but he rarely took him seriously. JC was their mediator, he was good at it. Hell. All that aside, Josh was his boy. They got each other. More so than any of the others. Joey, Lance, even Justin had all grown up in homes where they might not have gotten everything they wanted but they’d never gone without what they needed. Josh had tasted that life. He always knew where Chris was coming from. He missed JC just always being there. Two weeks with no contact was making him antsy. Safe or not, he really needed to talk to JC.

Tossing the empty bottle into the trash, Chris rubbed at his temples. He could feel a headache coming. He glanced at the clock then at the couch. Rehearsals could fuck off until he'd had a nap. He dropped onto the couch, made a mental note to call a group meeting sometime soon. Let the guys know he had first dibs on JC when he got back. Everyone else would just have to wait. He also needed to tell Lance the next time JC called he was to get him the phone a.s.a.p.

JC huddled over his cup of coffee ignoring the steady gaze he could almost feel. He was not in the mood to play nice. Yesterday's therapy session had if at possible reached new levels of hell. He thought shrinks were supposed to ease you into discovering your issues. Not toss you the fuck in headfirst.

Marshall shoved a sandwich in front of Josh. If possible his boy looked worse than he had this morning, when he'd passed him on the stairs it had been obvious the kid had been up all night. After the shrink's visit, Josh had come in and headed straight for the studio. Marshall had been content to leave him there. Now that Josh was actively trying, Marshall no longer felt the need to ride herd on him. He snorted to himself. Well, not as much. He had a vague idea what was bothering Josh but the kid clammed up whenever the subject of his ex came up. Marshall was content to leave it alone, as long as Josh was talking to someone. "Hailie's in the den," said Marshall, pushing away from the table. "I'll be in the study."

JC tipped his head, letting Em know that he'd heard. But he didn't look up from his plate. He focused on picking at the sandwich, pretending an attempt at eating. He really didn't feel like talking. He'd spent two hours yesterday discussing his relationship with the good doctor. Therapy fucking sucked. She'd insisted on no euphemisms when they talked about what had happened. Nothing but the unvarnished truth. If there was something he didn't want to talk about he didn't have to but she required a reason why. And 'because-I-don't-want-to' wasn't a reason. To top it all of he now had to keep a journal, in which he could not lie, prevaricate or otherwise obfuscate. And oh joy; she'd even assigned homework. He was to write about that day. She insisted that whatever he wrote was up to him, and that at no time would she read his entries. She'd said he'd already taken the hardest step, seeking help. Still, the thought made him vaguely queasy.

At least he had a few days before he had to do it thought JC as pushed the thought aside and stood. After dumping the picked over sandwich in the trash, he went in search of his housemates. He might not be in the mode to talk, but he definitely didn't feel like being alone.

The sounds of giggling drew him to the study. Marshall sat his computer with a grinning Hailie peering over his arm. The blond girl giggled again as the sound of gunfire echoed from the speakers. JC leaned silently in the doorway, watching. Not sure he wanted to interrupt Em's gleeful enjoyment of whatever violence he was wrecking. Hailie glanced up to see her Unca Josh and with an impish look reminiscent of her father's hurried to his side. "You got to come play, Unca Josh. Daddy sucks today. Normally he gets all of them," exclaimed Hailie tugging JC over to the desk and Marshall.

Em didn't even have the decency to look guilty as he pushed back so Josh could see the screen.

"He keeps missing the dark-haired one in front," complained Hailie. "He's messing up our score."

"Why don't you give it a shot," said Em. "I find it extremely therapeutic." Em's grin was huge and unrepentant as he snagged a nearby desk chair and pulled it up beside his.

JC couldn't help returning it as he settled into the seat. "What do I do?"

"Nothing to it. Just point and shoot," explained Em, settling Hailie onto his lap. He glanced over at Josh, and couldn't help thinking his boy should smile more often.

For the rest of the afternoon the trio played NStink: Stop the Music. And despite Hailie's expert advice; Em continued to miss the skinny dark-haired one in front and JC continued to only hit the short-haired blonde one.
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