A/N: If you're on the Jonas proboard, please comment there. I prefer to use that site over this one.

It's an early September morning in New York as Shane sits on the edge of his bed in his Brooklyn home. His bags are packed with his warm-weather designer clothes and multiple pairs of shoes. His winter clothes are hanging in the closet, only to be kept immaculately while he's gone for the next six months.

Six months.

Six months is how long Shane is going to be gone for. It started with a mishap two weeks ago. Shane's mom, Rene, was woken at four o'clock in the morning by the slamming of her bedroom door. She then heard the house's front door shut as well, so she went to check on her only son to see if everything was okay. It wasn't.

Shane's bedroom was in pristine condition thanks to the house cleaner, but there was filth on the sixteen-inch flat screen monitor. Sounds of fabricated, fake passion filled the room as two muscled men pleasured each other in a matter of five minutes and three seconds on the screen.

Rene then smelled a vulgar scent, one of alcohol and marijuana. She followed it out to the backyard where her son and his boyfriend, Carson, stood holding plastic cups filled with cheap wine. Their free hands definitely weren't to themselves; Shane's was pulling Carson's hair as Carson playfully began giving his boyfriend a hand job. Needless to say they were drunk.

When Shane saw his mom, he dropped his cup and let it fall to the wooden deck beneath them all. He tried to slur an apology, but Rene grabbed her son's arm and dragged him inside before demanding to know what the hell the eighteen-year-old was doing.

When the singer/songwriter/actor shoved his hand down his skinny jeans, mind not in a state of rightness. He was obviously unaware of the fact that his mother still stood there, and had forgotten that she pulled him away from his lover. Before continuing, Shane sat down on the leather sofa and his mom stomped upstairs.

Shane ended up passing out, and in the morning his mom sat at the kitchen table when the boy stumbled into the kitchen, writhing with starving.

"Do you know what you did last night?" she asked through almost-gritted teeth. Her tasteful red nails were jammed into the side of her expensive coffee mug.

"Mmm, honestly, I don't," Shane muttered stupidly, opening the stainless steel refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of spring water. He quickly went to the snack cupboard, sought out a package of small chocolate chip cookies and gobbled them down before taking a swig of water.

"I saw your computer screen," Rene replied. "You were outside with your boyfriend. You were drinking. You and Carson smelled like marijuana."

"That would explain the headache," Shane mumbled in response.

"Shane, I'm tired of your antics," Rene stated rather bluntly. She put her coffee on the glass tabletop and looked at her only child through tired, disappointed eyes. "I didn't raise you to be like this."

"Mom, I-"

"No, let me speak," his mother barked back. "I'm tired of you the heartbreak you put me through. The things you've done; the songs you've written about me; I don't understand where I went wrong." Shane paused, trying his hardest to hold back his fury. He let his mom continue. "Do you enjoy hurting me?"

"No," the teenager whispered sadly. "I'm sorry that I'm gay, Mom. I know it's never what you-"

"This isn't about Carson. It's about you," Rene managed to whisper before wiping her tear-filled eyes. "Go p-pack your things," his mother stammered. "You're going to a ranch in Texas two weeks from today until you can straighten up..."

Shane started to ask, "What are-"

"I'll talk to you about when you're done. Make piles of everything you're not taking. It'll be put in storage."

Slowly, Shane sulked to his room and for once obeyed his mother's orders.

Rene calls upstairs, "Shane, it's time to go!"

Sighing softly, the teenager adjusts his carry-on leather bag filled with electronics and chewing gum. He also has a tiny, heart-shaped pebble that Carson found and gave to him on their first official date.

Down in Texas at Seven Bluffs Ranch, nineteen-year-old Jason Gregory is just getting his five AM wake-up call. His alarm goes off, and he quickly reaches down and grabs the cord before yanking it from the wall.

He throws the thing bed sheet to the floor before rolling out of bed in his cut-off blue jeans and black wife beater. A simple sterling silver band adorns his left hand ring finger and dangling from his neck is a simple white gold chain.

The two pieces of jewelry are separate Christmas gifts from his deceased parents. They both died on a missionary trip in Africa, leaving single-child Jason an orphan. That's why he is where he is.

Carlisle and Cindy Kennedy, Jason's uncle and aunt, took the boy in when their sister and sister-in-law were reported dead. The horse breeders always admired Jason's mom, Diana, for dedicating her life to a good cause. They thought the same of Dean, Jason's father. Never having children of their own, they immediately adopted Jason as their son.

The well-mannered teenager smiles after kissing his aunt's cheek when he enters the large, nicely-scented kitchen. "What're we havin'?" Jason asks politely in his sweet, southern accent as he takes his seat next to Carlisle's best friend and fellow horseman, Eric, at the table.

"Pancakes, bacon and sugared strawberries," Aunt Cindy replies with a smile as she sets a large plate of pig in the center of the rectangular table. "Ya'll wan't coffee?"

"Yes, ma'am," another ranch hand, Andy, speaks up.

"Jase, Honey, what 'bout you?" she questions, showcasing her petite white teeth.

"Yes, please," Jason answers eagerly, pushing his straight brown hair away from his eyes.

"Boy, if you don't cut that hair I'm gonna get my horse clippers and shave your head," Carlisle threatens, chuckling as he reaches over and tousles the nineteen-year-old's locks. "Eat up, now. You're goin' to the city to pick up that boy- what was his name?"

"Shane Gray," Eric nearly spits. "Snotty li'l brat. I'll whip 'im into shape."

Jason smiles slightly before nudging Andy and asking, "Pass me the syrup." After smothering his flapjacks with the sickeningly sweet goo, the southern child piles strawberries on top.

"Damn, Jason," Andy says loudly. "You tryin' to kill yourself?"

Shrugging slightly, the teenager sits silently.

"Y'all boys stop," Aunt Cindy replies loudly when she enters the room with a coffee pot. She pours Jason's first, saying, "Here you go, Baby."

"Thanks Aunt Cindy," Jason responds before taking a mouthful of pancakes.

"Eat up, now. Remember you gotta do your chores b'fore we go get Shane."

Nodding, the teenager swallows his bite of food without chewing.

This is definitely going to be an interesting six months.