~~~~~*~~~~~

It didn't matter that he was underage, Justin knew he looked old enough to pull off ordering a drink from the bar. He'd deliberately not shaved for the last few days knowing that his two-day beard made him look older and more sophisticated, which was always a bonus when he was out socially. Generally as long as he was clean shaven for public appearances, no one cared what he looked like the rest of the time.

He couldn't have known how grateful he'd be for this decision till he was face to face with the bartender ordering a double shot of Jack Daniels. Fortunately, the man barely gave him the once over before going to prepare his drink, and Justin smirked at his good fortune. With any luck he'd get the chance to drink it before one of his 'big brothers' intervened on his behalf. He knew they had his best interests at heart, but it irked him how much they seemed to enjoy treating him as the baby of the group.

Even if it was technically true.

He sank down onto one of the empty barstools and leaned his elbows on the wooden counter, hunching his shoulders as he waited for the bartender to return. He had his money ready in his hand, and as he balled his fingers up into a fist he felt the dollars press into his palm. It hurt, but in a good way, and he continued to squeeze until temporary purple bruises began to form. As he uncurled his hand and stared at the purple and white marks, his blood bought the blush back to his skin.

The bartender was taking too long and he was starting to get annoyed.

He glanced over his shoulder at his group of friends, his eyes automatically fixing on Libby out of habit. She was seated at the table beside Clare, and although she appeared to be engaged in conversation, he could tell even from this distance that she wasn't really listening to whatever was being said. Occasionally her eyes would dart out to the side with a far off look and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realised she wasn't looking for him.

“Double Jack,” the bartender barked at him over the thumping music, and Justin turned and emptied the contents of his hand into the man's outstretched palm. It was the correct change, but the bartender didn't even bother to count it. He simply gave a brief shrug and headed off to the other side of the bar to take the next order. Justin followed him with his eyes before grasping the small glass in his hand and sliding around on the stool to face his table of friends once again.

Fixing his eyes on Libby's small frame, he lifted the glass to his lips and downed it in one, wincing as the whiskey burned its way down his throat and set alight to his stomach. After a few seconds the fire subsided to a warm glow and he smiled at the comforting feeling.

So that's why people drink.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Despite his usual sixth sense for knowing when trouble was brewing, it took JC far longer to realise Justin was absent from the group than it normally would've. He was used to doing a casual head count when they were out professionally in public, something that'd crossed over into his private life, too, but with the distraction of the bustling crowd, the loud music and what had happened with Libby, he'd not thought about it in a while.

He gave Justin the benefit of the doubt, allowing him a polite amount of time to return before he sent out a search party -- after all, he could've wandered off to use the restrooms or to dance, although he highly doubted it -- but when he didn't return within ten minutes, JC knew it was time to start taking his absence seriously.

He was shocked to find him at the bar. Even more so when he spotted the empty glass by his side. He couldn't be sure, but it looked suspiciously like there was a trace of whiskey lingering at the bottom. It was Justin's expression, however, that caused him the most concern, and as he hovered by his shoulder, JC eyed his friend cautiously, unsure how to even begin what would doubtless become an awkward conversation.

He wasn't good at these kind of chats. His strong paternal instincts weren't suited to the subtle approach that the situation required. Chris' quirky sense of humor was much better at getting information out of Justin without raising his suspicions or defences. He usually managed to achieve the exact opposite.

“What's goin' on man?” he said, trying his best to keep the judgemental tone out of his voice. Justin grunted something unintelligible in reply and flicked his eyes down to stare at his feet.

JC glanced again at the drink and then at the side of Justin's face. It was an expressionless mask and impossible to read.

“You're... drinking?”

“I had one drink,” Justin said, his voice edgy. “One.” He glanced up and narrowed his eyes at JC. “What? You wanna report me to the cops?” He let out a huff and scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the metal legs of the barstool, sticking out his bottom lip like a pouting child.

JC let out a resigned sigh. There really was no easy way to do this. “Are you gonna tell me what's bothering you?” he asked, but Justin merely grunted again as his eyes flicked over to their table of friends.

JC followed his gaze and a lightbulb went off in his mind. He was no Sherlock Holmes, but he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“It's Libby,” Justin said, the corners of his mouth pulling down into a frown. “The whole thing's just got to me.”

“Okay...”

“She's really hurt about this loser breaking up with her,” Justin continued, raising his head to stare out across the crowd of people on the dance floor. His gaze was distant, unfocused, and when he spoke it was more to himself than to JC. “More upset than I'd realised.”

“That's understandable,” JC said, choosing his words carefully. “She's not had many boyfriends. She's bound to take a breakup hard.”

Justin's eyes narrowed to slits and his jaw tensed. “He dumped her. He dumped her yesterday and now he's here sucking face with someone else.” He turned his head to meet JC's eyes to see if he was as affected by the news as he was. “He broke her heart. Like, for real. I mean, why? Why do that?”

JC didn't have the answer. He didn't understand it either so he simply shrugged. Libby was a nice girl, a little immature for her age maybe, but what eighteen year old wasn't? She certainly didn't deserve the way she'd been treated, but it was something nearly everyone experienced at one time or another. It was tough to learn that love was a risky game and you didn't always come out a winner.

“If he didn't want to be with her then why not let her down gently? Why do something like this to make her feel like crap?”

“To be fair, he probably didn't know she'd be here tonight...”

Justin's gaze flashed to JC, his eyes ablaze at what he considered to be defence of Libby's ex. He'd expected it to be a given that JC would take his, or rather, Libby's, point of view. “Are you defending him?” he demanded.

“Of course not. I'm just saying he's acting to type by doing all this. Unfortunately, it's what guys like him do.”

Justin grumbled something under his breath that JC didn't catch.

“What did you say?”

“I said, 'it's about time someone taught him a lesson'.”

JC rolled his eyes. “She's a big girl, Justin. She'll get over it.”

“She shouldn't have to get over it,” Justin snapped back. “Someone ought to teach him a lesson. He shouldn't get away with this, man.”

“J, come on...” JC said, reaching out to place a placating hand on his shoulder. He was getting agitated and it wasn't like him. The alcohol in his system was obviously clouding his judgement, although JC doubted he'd had that much to drink. “Calm down.”

“I can't calm down. You think it's okay for him to be out there treating people this way? If it wasn't Libby it'd be someone else. Imagine he was doing this to your sister, how would you feel about him then?”

Yeah, but she's not my sister, JC nearly said – nearly – but managed to hold his tongue at the last minute. He naturally felt protective over his female friends, but he also had a steady head on his shoulders that prevented him from rushing in when his help wasn't needed. Libby would get over her hurt soon enough, and JC knew confronting the guy wouldn't do anyone any good.

“Justin, I'm tellin' you, you need to calm down.”

“And I'm tellin' you I'm not going to,” he seethed, rising from his seat in a rush. His eyes searched the crowd as JC reached out to grasp his jacket hem or sleeve to hold him back.

“Wait, J! Think about this...”

Justin pulled his arm roughly out of JC's hand and turned on him. “I don't need to think. Let go of me.”

“You need to get it together. What good will rushing in and confronting him do? Do you even know what you're going to say? You'll just make things worse and Libby won't thank you for that.”

“I can't do nothing,” Justin growled. “You can stay here and take the high-road if you like, but I'm going to act.” He turned on his heels and stormed off towards the dance floor, leaving JC with the feeling of wanting to punch someone.

“You'll only make it worse!” he shouted after him, but if Justin heard, he pretended not to.

~~~~~*~~~~~

It was the shouting that got Clare's attention, and the fact that suddenly they seemed to be the only people not rushing to the middle of the dance floor where someone, or something, was drawing a large crowd. Despite the music still pounding away at an almost painful volume, she could hear raised voices and the occasional pained gasp, and her eyes instinctively settled on the one face she usually looked to for reassurance – Chris, who'd wandered back to the group after hearing about Libby's incident outside the club. He met her eyes and she could tell at once what he was thinking even though he didn't utter a word. There were two very obvious faces missing from their group, and like her he seemed to be wondering if the two instances were related. Wondering, but also dreading.

“Where's Justin?” Chris asked, turning to Joey who was mid-conversation with Lance. The two men seemed oblivious to what was happening around them and Chris had to nudge Joey rather pointedly on the elbow before he got his full attention. “Justin,” he repeated slowly, enunciating the word in case Joey couldn't hear over the music. “When did you last see him?”

Joey looked confused and his eyes flicked over to Libby's pale face. “Er... a while?”

Chris turned to Lance. “And you?”

“Same,” Lance said. “I haven't seen him recently if that's what you mean.”

“That's what I mean,” Chris said, his jaw clenching. “We need to go look for him.”

~~~~~*~~~~~

Chris didn't arrive a moment too soon as far as JC was concerned. He'd done all he could to try to separate Justin from the fray, but there was only so much he could do on his own. He'd managed to somehow get a hold on Justin's arms, pinning them tightly behind his back, but as the crowd continued to jeer at his involvement, JC knew it was only a matter of time before Justin managed to break free of his grasp. He was surprisingly strong for a teenager.

“I need help,” he shouted as he met Chris's eyes, noting the panic there as the older man surveyed the scene. There was blood everywhere - fortunately, not Justin's - the result of him having given Dan a bloody nose, and JC knew it would only be a matter of time before the tables turned, unless he found a way of diffusing the situation.

“What the fuck?” Chris shouted, rushing to his side and using his body weight to pull Justin back out of Dan's face. “What the fuck's going on?”

Justin struggled against them, seeming completely unaware of who or what was restraining him. He surged forward again, pulling his right arm forwards to strike another blow in Dan's face, but JC had anticipated his next move. He rocked backwards onto his heels and gritted his teeth, yanking Justin roughly to the side in a move that almost sent him on his ass.

“Justin! Stop!” He bellowed in his face, standing between the two men and holding up his palms to prevent him rushing forward again. Justin blinked several times and lifted a hand to press tenderly at his rapidly swelling eye. Already he was having trouble seeing out of it.

“What happened?” Chris asked again as the crowd started to lose interest, sensing an end to the confrontation. They started to dissipate taking their laughter and jeering encouragement with them, much to the relief of JC. He'd been dreading someone recognising them and this little incident ending up in the entertainment section of the morning's papers.

“Idiot decided to confront Libby's ex,” he explained as he scowled at Justin, “and got a black eye for his troubles.”

“Shit!” Chris swore, partly for Justin and partly for the group. He grabbed the young man's shoulders and pulled him into the light so he could get a better look at the injury. It was puffy and he was visibly squinting but it didn't look too bad - yet. How they would explain away a black eye he had no idea, and the thought made him reach out and cuff Justin around the back of the head, receiving a glare from the youngster who reached out and shoved him back.

“Don't hit me,” Justin said, reaching up to dab at his eye again with the back of his fingers. The pressure made his skin feel as though it were on fire, and a watery tear escaped, much to his horror.

“Oh, so you have no problem saying that to me,” Chris said with a snort, glancing over his shoulder at Dan who was still scowling at Justin as the brunette fussed around him. Clearly he had no intention of approaching now the odds were no longer in his favour. “Why didn't you say it to him?”

Justin shrugged and stared down at his feet.

What was he supposed to say to that?

~~~~~*~~~~~

“What's happened?” Libby asked Clare, her worried eyes enormous in her pale face. She reached out and grasped Clare's forearms, her grip tight but her hands visibly shaking. “Where's Justin? Where's JC?”

“I don't know,” Clare said, searching for a familiar face in the crowd. It'd been her idea for her and Libby to stay at the table while the men went looking for Justin, but that'd left them completely out of the loop. She'd expected one of them to have returned by now, and their absence only added to her concern. It didn't help that Libby was freaking out either. “We just gotta stay calm,” she repeated over and over, although she had no idea how.

“I have to go look for him,” Libby said, turning to Clare for assurance as she got to her feet. She couldn't sit at the table any longer, her toes tapping anxiously on the floor and her fingers drumming an anxious pattern on the table top. She had to do something or she was going to go crazy.

“There are already four people out looking for him,” Clare pointed out, her brow furrowing. The last thing she needed was for Libby to get lost in the crowd. “What makes you think you'll be able to find him any quicker? I'm telling you, we're better off staying here.”

“I can't just do nothing.”

Clare let out a huff. “We're not doing nothing. We're waiting.”

“I can't wait any more. I'm going crazy sitting here.”

Clare squinted her eyes into the near darkness and just made out the shape of JC heading back towards them. A relieved smile lit up her face and she let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. “You're probably worrying about nothing. Look, here comes Josh...”

Libby's eyes shot over to where Clare was looking and she sucked in a shocked gasp as her eyes focused on the sight in front of her. It wasn't JC she was looking at but a slightly hobbling Justin who was two or three paces behind him, his hand clutched to the side of his face, and the front of his t'shirt stained with drying blood.

“Oh, my God,” she muttered, her hands beginning to shake once again. Her stomach churned at the sight of him and she reached out to steady herself on the nearest chair's back. Worrying about nothing, my ass.

Clare was up and out of her seat in an instant, rushing forward to meet the two men. “What happened?” she gasped as Justin came to a stop at the table and glanced sideways at Libby. She was staring at him, her mouth hanging open in a wide Oh, her face even paler than it had been moments before. She reached up and pressed a finger against his hand causing him to grimace and let out a small hiss. He wasn't ready to show her the damage Dan had done to his face, but he suspected that trying to conceal it had only drawn more attention to his injury.

“He got into a fight,” JC said through gritted teeth, still barely able to believe it himself.

“With who?” Clare demanded, unsure whether she should be furious with Justin or the other guy. She watched as Libby came round to his side and gently pulled on his fingers until he took his hand away, letting her see his injury in its full glory. Her hands flew to her mouth and she stared at him in shock.

“What happened to you?” she asked, her voice barely audible. Justin gave a careless shrug, but his eyes began to tear at her expression. He brushed it off as though it were merely a consequence of the pain and cleared his throat gruffly. He did not want to cry in front of her, despite the pit of agony he was in. Who knew getting a black eye was so painful? Maybe if he'd known he'd have paid a little more attention to JC's warning.

“It's nothin',” he muttered, avoiding her eyes until he had a stronger grip on his emotions.

“It's not nothing,” Clare contradicted. “The whole side of your face is swelling up. Who did this to you Justin?”

“Let's not go into that,” JC said, eyeing Libby cautiously. She'd been through enough this evening as it was. He suspected the truth would come out at some point, but now didn't seem the right time to discuss it. “I'm sure he's learned his lesson.”

“Whose learned their lesson?” Libby demanded, her eyes still fixed on Justin's wounded face.

“He means me,” Justin said, glancing at JC who nodded back, his eyes revealing everything he couldn't say out loud. The underage drinking had been one thing, but fighting was something he couldn't pass off as merely a consequence of teenage hormones. Not only had Justin endangered himself but the reputation of the group as well, and that was something he took very seriously.

“What was the lesson? Why you shouldn't let yourself get punched in the face?” Clare teased, only half-joking as she let out a shaky breath. “I'm surprised to hear you didn't already know that. You could've been really hurt, you doofus.”

“Believe me, this is no picnic,” Justin said, pointing at his eye.

“You're lucky it wasn't worse,” Clare replied, looking at his blood stained shirt - the sight of it made her stomach turn. For the first time she realised that there were still three members of the group missing, and she glanced over Justin's shoulder expecting to see them hanging around in the background. “Where's everyone else?”

“Getting drinks,” JC said.

“We're not leaving?” Libby asked, placing a comforting hand over Justin's arm as he dabbed at his watery eye. It was almost completely closed now and she could tell by the grimace on his face that the pain was bothering him much more than he was letting on. She glanced at JC and then Clare before her eyes travelled back to Justin's face. “Justin shouldn't be here, he needs medical attention.”

“It's not that bad,” JC grumbled, still feeling resentful towards his bandmate. He couldn't stop thinking about how the night might've ended had he not found Justin in time. The moment the crowd had parted in front of him to reveal Justin squaring up to the older man was imprinted in his memory, and he still felt sick at the thought of it.

“I'm not asking,” Libby snapped, narrowing her eyes at him. “I'm telling you. He shouldn't be here.”

Clare studied Justin's face, and then the stubborn expression on Libby's. She'd seen that look before and knew there was no messing with it. Right or wrong, Libby was going to get her way.

“She might have a point Josh...” she muttered gently.

JC let out a resigned sigh and looked Clare straight in the eye. “I don't know what to do,” he said, sinking into the nearest chair and running his hands through his hair. The adrenaline surge he'd experienced tearing Justin away from the fight had run out, and he was beginning to feel the effects. All of a sudden he just didn't have the energy for anything, especially arguing a point with Libby. “If you think it's best...”

“I do,” Libby said, turning to Justin and reaching for his hand. “Do you wanna go home?” she asked gently, giving his fingers a squeeze. Her eyes were clouded with concern, so much so he could barely meet her gaze. Would she be so concerned for his welfare if she knew who he'd gotten into a fight with, and why? He tried not to grimace. He didn't want to go home. He could only imagine how his mother would react if he turned up at the house they shared with a black eye and covered in someone else's blood. He'd probably be hauled back to Tennessee in a heartbeat to face the wrath of his grandparents.

Perhaps he'd be better off crashing at Joey, Chris and JC's so he could get his story together before having to explain himself to his mother? It would give him an opportunity to talk things through with his band-mates, too. Only JC was being up front about it, but he could tell they were all pissed at him, especially Chris, who'd had to take a walk outside just to calm down. In fact, they were still waiting for him to return.

Sensing his hesitation, Libby let her mouth run away with her. “You can always stay at ours,” she offered, and as an afterthought glanced sideways at her room-mate for confirmation. “He can, right Clare?”

“I... Er...”

“You can stay at ours,” Libby assured Justin, turning back around to smile sweetly at him. If she was aware of Clare's hesitation, she wasn't going to let it alter her plans. Her mind was already made up. Justin nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her face. She was like a completely different person, taking charge and not accepting no for an answer. It was a little intimidating. “I'll look after you J,” she said softly, reaching out to give his hand another squeeze.

JC glanced sideways at Clare, his eyebrows raised in question and she discreetly shook her head, promising with her eyes to explain it to him later.

For Justin, Libby's offer sounded like one he couldn't refuse. “Okay,” he said, trying not to break into a grin. “If you insist.”

~~~~~*~~~~~