~~~~~*~~~~~

Clare was woken early the next morning by the ringing of the telephone on her bedside table. It took her a few moments to rouse herself properly before she was able to answer the call.

"Hello?" She said groggily into the receiver.

"Have you seen the local paper this morning?" A no–nonsense voice asked on the other end of the line. Clare frowned.

"Jamie?" She asked hesitantly as she began to recognise her friend's voice. Only Jamie could have it so together first thing in the morning.

"Yes, it's me. Now focus. Paper?"

"Err, no," Clare answered in between yawns. "Why?"

"You're not at work yet," Jamie said, pointing out the obvious. "Are you still in bed?"

Clare sat upright at the accusation in her friend's voice, her stomach tightening in anxiety. Was she late? Was she in some sort of trouble at work? And what could be in the local paper that might interest her?

The Orlando Weekly was a small publication that reported local news around the Orlando area. It wasn't something that Clare usually went out of her way to read. She might flick through it occasionally on a morning as she ate her breakfast, but that was pretty much it. The standard articles that featured in the paper were local news pieces and restaurant reviews, combined with money–off vouchers for the theme parks. Therefore the paper rarely got much attention outside of the state.

"Um, I guess I slept in a bit late..." Clare muttered awkwardly as she glanced at her bedside clock. She felt a bit like a teenager being chastised by their mother for oversleeping. "Wait a minute, Jam, it's only eight–fifteen!" Clare exclaimed with a roll of her eyes. Her alarm wasn't due to go off for another fifteen minutes.

"Whatever, Clare. I need you to promise me that you'll come straight to work without looking at any papers. Come straight to my office before you do anything else."

"Jeez, Jam. What's the big deal?"

"Just promise me, Clare."

"Okay, fine. I promise. Now I'm up, I'll take a shower and come straight in. I'll see you in about half an hour or so."

"Okay, Clare. Just remember—come straight to my office."

"Heard you the first time, Jamie."

Clare hung up the phone and climbed out of bed, her mind whirling around the bizarre conversation that she'd just had. What could have gotten into Jamie? And why was she suddenly so obsessed with the local paper? Clare rushed through her shower, got dressed, and headed straight off to work as she'd promised, collecting the mail from the box outside the apartment as she made her way over to her car.

Whatever has gotten under Jamie's skin most likely has something to do with work, Clare mused. They'd both made a lot of progress with the re–scheduling of the tour the night before, but even so Clare knew that there was still a lot of work to be done. But what that had to do with the local press, though, was anyone's guess.

Clare pulled up into her parking space in front of the main building and grabbed the mail, which she'd carelessly tossed onto the passenger seat earlier, so that she could go through it during her lunch break. It was a few days after pay day and so she was fully expecting to have a handful of bills to sort through. What she found, however, sent a chill of horror running down her spine.

Clare somehow managed to force herself to breathe as she stared at the front page of the paper. Oh, God. Please, no!

~~~~~*~~~~~

As Clare tore her eyes away from the paper in her hand, she noticed that someone was standing beside her car, looking through the driver's window at her with a worried expression on their face. Jamie.

Clare met her friend's eyes briefly before turning her attention back to the newspaper, which she was now clutching tightly in her shaking hand. In all the carfuffle of the morning she'd completely overlooked the fact that her copy of the local paper was posted directly to her apartment.

"Oh, Clare," Jamie groaned as she opened the driver's door and stared helplessly at her friend. Jamie realised that all of her earlier efforts to protect Clare had been for nothing.

"I'm going to kill him," Clare said in such a quiet, menacing tone that Jamie had to lean forward and ask her to repeat it several times before she understood. She stared at her friend, unsure of how to respond.

"Where is he?" Clare asked as she tried to suck in a deep breath. She was so angry that tears began to form behind her eyes, which only served to make her angrier. She was determined that she was not going to cry. Clare removed her seatbelt and climbed out of the car, grasping at the corner of the door before slamming it forcefully closed. Jamie winced at the sound as she debated whether or not to answer her friend. Quickly realising that forcing Clare to search the building for her intended victim might give her a chance to calm down, Jamie decided to take a gamble. It was a risky plan but worth a try. For JC's sake, at least.

"Clare, we don't know that any of that is true. Maybe before you start—"

"On second thoughts, don't tell me," Clare snapped harshly as she interrupted Jamie mid–sentence. "It'll give me more time to work out how I'm going to kill him."

Jamie watched as Clare stomped away from her towards the main entrance of the building without a backwards glance. She hoped that JC was prepared for the thunderstorm that was headed his way but somehow she doubted that he would be.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Clare's initial plan was to look for JC in the guy’s unofficial 'office' on the first floor. Second only to the games room, it was the place where the members of the group spent the most time when not working. Clare had had the right idea, but, unfortunately, she found only four out of the five members of the group—the crucial one being absent.

As she entered the room, Clare noticed that Justin quickly turned his head away from her and pretended to be absorbed by staring out of the window at the blue sky. Clare immediately zeroed in on him as her suspicions rose. If anyone knew where JC would be it'd be his old MMC pal, Justin. They were as thick as thieves.

"Where is he?" Clare asked angrily as she stormed over to where Justin was sitting on the couch and loomed over him. Justin didn't answer—or even bother to turn around to face her—which further irritated her. "Justin, I asked you a question," Clare snapped at him.

Justin turned his head towards her, keeping his face completely composed to the point of appearing half–asleep. "Hmm...?"

Clare's eyes bore into Justin’s. She knew that he was covering for his band mate, but it angered her that he was also deliberately trying to piss her off when she was already so obviously wound up. She was determined not to be distracted by his stalling tactics.

"Don't give me that crap. Just tell me where he is."

"Where who is?" Joey asked from across the room. Clare turned around to face him, missing the smirk that Justin gave Joey for saving him from Clare's interrogation.

"You know very well who. The last edition to this group," Clare explained in a strained voice.

"Lance?" Chris chuckled as he pointed at Lance, who was sitting next to Justin on the couch. Clare turned and met Lance's eyes, noticing for the first time the visible discomfort on his face. He seemed to be the only one who didn't find their teasing of her amusing.

"You can joke all you want, but I will find him. With or without your help," Clare said as she narrowed her eyes at Chris.

"What's he done that's got you so moody?" Chris asked her sarcastically. Unlike the other members of the group who were still in the dark about what had happened between JC and Alyson, Chris knew exactly why Clare was upset. Although he had no idea how she'd managed to find out—he certainly hadn't said anything to anyone.

"I'm sure you already know," Clare hissed at him, "it's all over the local papers." She angrily tossed the newspaper that she was still holding towards his head and he caught it easily in one hand. Justin, Lance and Joey all gathered around him as he began to read aloud.

"’I had a one night stand with JC from *NSYNC'," Chris read, before looking up to meet Clare's eyes. Unlike the other three men in the room, who all gasped and exchanged shocked glances, Chris kept his eyes fixed firmly on Clare

"When did this happen?" Lance asked in surprise.

"Hang on a minute," Chris interrupted as he offered the newspaper to Joey, who snatched it up out of his hands to get a better look at the article. "Are you upset because this happened, or because it has ended up in the papers?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Clare snapped at him. "This has nothing to do with me."

Chris raised his eyebrows and flashed her a mocking grin, which caused Clare to narrow her eyes in response. If he was trying to press her buttons then he was doing a very good job, but Clare was determined to save the best of her wrath for JC.

"You know what, Kirkpatrick? I really don't care what you think. Sorry if my concern for your stupid group is more of a priority to me than allowing you to delve into my personal life. You can sit here and laugh about this if you like, but I'm the one who's going to have to sort out some form of damage control. So go ahead and protect him. But you might want to start looking for a replacement lead singer, 'cause when I'm finished with him you're going to need one."

~~~~~*~~~~~

Clare found JC in the very last place that she'd thought to look—the outdoor basketball court. Without a word, she walked up behind him and snatched the basketball out of his hands before he could line it up for his next shot.

"Hey!" JC complained as he turned around to see who had interfered with his game. He was silenced by one look at Clare's furious face and his brow furrowed into a frown.

"Answer me something," Clare said as she let the ball roll away across the court and turned to face him, her hands pressed firmly onto her hips. She was desperately trying to keep her emotions under control so that JC wouldn't see how truly upset she was for no other reason than that she was jealous. "Where did you go on Saturday night after the club?"

"Home," JC replied quickly.

"Before you went home, smart ass."

JC frowned and hesitated slightly before he answered. Could she really have found out about him and Alyson? Had Chris said something to her? JC couldn't risk coming clean without knowing for sure that was the reason she was so upset.

"Hello?" Clare said sarcastically as she clicked her fingers in front of his face, denying him what she thought was an opportunity for him to come up with an evasive answer.

"I took a friend home. Why?"

"A friend," Clare repeated with a bitter chuckle, causing JC's face to darken with irritation. He didn't like the tone of her voice, or the way she'd mocked his use of the word friend.

"Yes..."

"A good friend?" Clare asked as she maintained eye contact whilst hiding her trembling hands behind her back. She wasn't sure if it was adrenaline or borderline hysteria that was causing her hands to shake.

"Yes..."

Clare sneered again, her eyes tightening. "Well, that friend of yours just sold a story about you to the papers," she snapped at him.

JC's eyebrows shot up and he gawped at her. "What? What are you talking about?"

"You want me to spell it out for you, do you? Okay then, JC. Let me see. Oh yes, it was something about you having—and I'm quoting here—a 'one–night stand' with your good friend on Saturday night. There, I bet you wish you hadn't asked me now, don't you?"

"That's impossible," JC told her stubbornly, causing Clare to let out another bitter laugh.

"Impossible?" Clare repeated with another sneer, "Well, for something that's impossible, there sure are a lot of gory details in this week's Orlando Weekly. It even features a very flattering photograph of the pair of you together, just in case the headline 'My One–Night Stand with JC from *NSYNC' doesn't catch enough attention. Thanks for the heads–up, by the way. I just loved finding out about this over breakfast this morning. Just like many of your young, impressionable fans probably are as well. Great job."

"I... I don’t..." JC stammered, completely floored by her words. Alyson wouldn't have... couldn't have... Could she?

"What? You don't what? Do you realise that the whole rest of my week is now going to be taken up by saving your sorry ass instead of catching up on my actual work. And don't even try to tell me that this will only feature in the local papers, because I'm sure it’s probably all over the internet by now. So well done. You've officially made my life hell."

"Clare, it wasn't like that. You have to know—"

"Nope, I really don't. I don't have to know anything. But an apology that I can offer to the parents of the fans who are bound to call me up to complain about your behaviour would be helpful. What would you like me to say on your behalf, Joshua?"

"It wasn't a one–night stand."

Clare felt her heart plummet to the bottom of her chest. It was the worst possible thing that he could've said to her at that moment. If only he'd said that it had been a one–time thing—a mistake. That she could've handled. But not him saying that he didn't regret what had happened. That he might actually have feelings for this friend.

"She's an ex. We bumped into each other at the club the other night and as she was alone, I went home with her to make sure that she got there safe. It wasn't planned. I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did."

"A mistake," Clare repeated cynically.

"We all make them. Even you!"

"My mistakes don't usually involve me jumping into bed with the first friend I meet."

"Hey," JC challenged her, his eyes darkening at the judgement in her tone. "That's not fair."

"Neither is me having to deal with your personal drama. I have much more important things to do, especially now that the tour is all messed up. The last thing I need is to have to deal with a load of negative press. Especially not with the Kids Choice Awards just around the corner. Great timing I must say."

"I'm sorry that my personal life is such a nuisance to you, Clare," JC replied with a roll of his eyes. Her tone was beginning to grate on him and he didn't like the accusation in her voice. He knew that he'd messed up, but he was an adult and was more than capable of dealing with the repercussions of his actions.

"Don't you talk to me like that," Clare retaliated angrily. "Your personal issues are your problem unless they affect your career, at which point they become my problem. You seem to have forgotten that it’s my job to keep you looking squeaky clean and oh–so innocent."

"Look, all I can say is that I don't understand how this has ended up in the papers. It must be some kind of mistake."

"Mistake," Clare sneered and rolled her eyes. "Whatever, JC. These stories don't just end up in the papers by themselves. Someone must have spoken to a journalist to get this information. You can remain in denial if you wish but if I were you, I'd go and speak to your friend and find out what happened. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

~~~~~*~~~~~

"Is he still alive?" Justin muttered under his breath as Clare marched back into her office to find that the rest of the members of *NSYNC had gathered around her desk to await her return from her showdown with JC. Clare heard his comment but was too preoccupied to retort. Instead, she headed straight towards her desk and slumped down into her chair.

"She says in the article that it was for old times’ sake," Lance told her in what he hoped was a helpful way as he watched Clare rub at the temples on her forehead. She had a doozy of a headache forming, and Clare knew that it was only bound to get worse as the day went on.

"Great," she said dryly. "Little does she know what that 'old times’ sake' will do to the reputation of this group."

Lance nodded gloomily and dropped the newspaper onto her desk before retreating back to the couch on the other side of the room. Clare quickly shoved the paper away from her and let it fall off the edge and into her waste paper bin. Where it belonged, she thought to herself.

"I know that this is probably a stupid question, but is this really such a big deal?" Justin asked from where he was leaning against the doorframe.

"If you know that it's a stupid question, why did you ask it?" Clare snapped at him as she looked up to meet his eyes. Justin raised an eyebrow at her and opened his mouth to make a cutting remark but was interrupted by Joey.

"Anyone wanna place bets on how long it'll be before the first frantic phone call?" Joey asked, trying his best to lighten the atmosphere in the room and prevent another argument from starting. Clare let out a huff of annoyance but didn't say anything. Joey wasn't a stranger himself to the odd scandal, and he sympathised with JC. He'd earned his reputation as a bit of a playboy, but JC's would be undeserved. In his opinion, there wasn't another person on earth who put more thought into their actions than his band mate.

"Ten minutes," Clare said as she took up the bet to the surprise of everyone else in the room. She glanced up to meet their eyes and shrugged. If she was going to spend the next few days dealing with angry fans over the phone then she might as well get a little money out of it. Clare collected her purse from where she usually kept it in the bottom drawer of her desk and scooped out a twenty dollar note.

"Before midday," Chris said, matching Clare's twenty dollars with his own. He'd deserved his nickname of 'Lucky' over the years, thanks to all the impromptu bets that the group randomly sprung on each other.

"An hour!" Justin added as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans for some loose change. He rarely carried a wallet with him but always seemed to have cash stashed somewhere on his person.

"Hang on, little one," Clare teased him. "Are you sure that your piggy bank can stretch that far?"

"The question is," a voice said from the doorway, "can he count that far?" Clare looked over just in time to see Libby shoot Justin a sly grin as she walked into the office. He sneered back at her and rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed at her remark.

"You saw it then?" Chris asked Libby as she headed over towards Clare's desk, her eyes searching her friend's face for signs of the hurt that she expected to find there.

"Of course. It's pretty hard to avoid, I'm afraid." Clare nodded soberly at her friend's words and attempted a weak smile. Even with her office packed with people, Libby and Clare were still able to have a silent conversation amongst themselves with just a shared look. Both girls knew that with all the attention that the group had been getting, and their growing popularity with the teenybopper set in Orlando, the story could run for months, prolonging both their workload and Clare's misery.

It was at this moment that Clare's phone began to ring and everyone except Libby let out an elongated groan.

"Damn," Chris said glumly to no one in particular. "Who had ten minutes?"

~~~~~*~~~~~