First off, I just want to say, this is like nothing I've ever written before. It was from an RGlist challenge, and the story had to involve a hairbrush, glitter hairspray, leather pants, a dvd version of "Cruel Intentions", a feather boa, and a video camera. (and maybe a brat from a different mailing list...). So, I did it. It has some strong language, and also a bit of an S&M vibe. So, consider yourself forewarned. Please, read it and let me know what you think. I really appreciate it. Mail me!

It started over that damn eyeliner again.

Joey was standing in frontof the mirror in the hotel room. It was after the concert, and he, JC, Chris and Lance were getting ready to hit theclubs. Justin, being 20, was sitting this one out.

As I was saying, Joey wasstanding in front of the mirror, attempting to brush that dammed glitter spray the stylist insisted on using every fucking show. The brush ripped hair out as he tried to brush the sparkles away.

“JOEY!!!”

He jumped, dropping thehairbrush into the sink with a clatter. JC came storming into the bathroom. Justin looked up from where he lay on the bed. He was watching Cruel Intentions on his computers DVD player again. What was it about that Ryan Philippe….

“Jesus fucking Christ JC, what the hell is your problem?!” Joey asked as JC slammed the door behind him.

“You are the problem. You did it again. Took my Goddamn eyeliner. You know fucking well that it’s my favorite. And yet you take it, wear it down, and never fucking even sharpen it!” JC’s face was as red as his leather pants.

“JC, relax. I’m sorry, dude, okay? I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow. Just don’t go all psycho on my, okay?”

JC just sat on the edge of the bathtub and began sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. So so sorry Joe. I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

Joey dropped onto theclosed toilet seat. “What’s going on JC? You never freak out like this. What happened?”

JC sobbed harder.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Joey stood up to walk to the door, but JC grabbed his arm. Joey looked down and saw the marks on JC’s wrist. It was like he had been tied up.

“Dude, JC, what happened to your wrist?”

“Lance.”

Joey knew that JC and Lance had been getting, well, a little freaky, for lack of a better phrase.

“What did Lance do?”

JC started at his shoes. “Well, last night after the show, we were sharing a hotel room. We were, ya know, having fun like usual.” JC blushed red again. “And Lance wanted to try something new. So, he got this orange feather boa from somewhere and tied me to the bed with it. Then he set up his video camera and…” JC couldn’t finish it. He turned to Joey and lifted up his shirt.

Lance has left the iron on again.