They were all very patient with JC.  They didn’t balk at him when he found the boa.  They didn’t say a word when he showed up in sparkly pants.  They didn’t flinch when he chose the flower t-shirt.  But they had to draw the line at the wings.

“Um.  Jace.  What’s with the, uh . . . what’s with the wings?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” JC answered casually, looking over his shoulder at the glittery white wings.  “I thought they matched the shirt.”

This was true, Justin conceded.  The wings did match the shirt.

“Um.  Jace?”  Chris spoke next.

“Yeah?”

“I . . . never mind.”  For once, Chris had not one joke to crack at his fellow band member’s expense.

“I think what he’s trying to say is . . . well . . .”  Joey trailed off.

Lance just stood in the corner and shook his head.

“What?”  JC asked, an innocent look on his face.

“Nothing, Jace.  Nothing.” Justin said.

JC shrugged.  “Okay.  I’m gonna go get some lunch.  Anybody want anything?”  And he left the room. 

“What are we gonna do?  How do we tell him that we can’t let him out in public like that?”  Justin turned to Joey, Lance, and Chris.

“We tell him, ‘JC, you can’t go out in public like that.’”  Chris answered.

“Right, Mr. ‘I . . . uh . . . nevermind.’”

“Oh, and you got the point across to him so much better.”

“Guys, cut it out,” Joey interrupted.  “We’ve got a serious situation here.  Now, Lance and I have an idea . . .”

A half hour later the door opened again and JC came back in, the wings gone. 

No one spoke.

JC rolled his eyes and let out his signature shrill giggle.

“Did you guys really think that I’d wear those things in public?  Me?”