Seventeen.

Chris woke up slowly, his body feeling heavy and his head clouded. He didn't quite have a hangover, but he could certainly feel the fact that he'd been drinking. He shut his eyes again and rolled over, one arm automatically reaching for the warm body next to his.

"Alejandro…" he mumbled.

"Uh… no? Chris?"

Chris sat upright, his eyes going wide. "Richard?" he demanded, staring in horror at the boy next to him.

Richard sat up, looking equally horrified. "Um… did we…"

"God, I hope not." Chris shuddered. "No offense, but I have Alejandro. And… Why would I… Why would you, for that matter?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "I don't know, but since that's your underwear on the floor, I'm guessing we did."

"Oh, shit." Chris buried his head in a hand. "I mean. Shit."

"Yeah…" Richard trailed off. "Um, I didn't mean for that to happen." He groaned. "I really, really didn't."

"Do you think Alejandro knows?" Chris asked hesitantly. "I… I don't want to lie to him, but if he knew he'd be so hurt… I don't want to lose him. Damn it, what happened?"

"I was drunk." Richard shrugged. "I think you two were fighting, I remember you were complaining about that."

"Yeah, yeah, we had a fight. So I was avoiding him, I remember sharing a flask with you. We went to go get something else to drink and ended… up… here."

"Yeah." Richard groaned. "Chris, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I never meant for this to happen. I really liked you two together, you know that."

"Don't say that like we aren't still together!" He glanced over at the pile of clothes on the floor, then hurried out of bed to start dressing. "I have to go find him, I have to find out if he knows…"

"What if he does?"

"I don't know," Chris said. "I just hope… I mean, I wish…. I think groveling."

"If he doesn't, are you going to tell him?"

Chris didn't answer, just finished pulling on his clothes and started out of the room. He couldn't have answered if he'd wanted to. He didn't know.

Chris hurried in to the house, his hair unbrushed and his clothes rumpled. He wished he'd had time to shower, but he wanted to get to Alejandro as soon as possible. Even if he still smelled like alcohol and his head was a little fuzzy.

Nick was at the kitchen table, his cell phone in front of him. He seemed to be staring at it. "Hey, what's up?" Nick asked, not looking up.

"Is Alejandro home?"

"In his room, but I wouldn't… I mean, if I were you. Have you heard from Ryan?"

"Why would I have heard from your boyfriend? …What's with Alejandro, is he okay?"

"He slammed the door shut last night and hasn't come out since. I got the feeling you two weren't getting along. Seriously, has Ryan called you?"

"No, Ryan hasn't called me, I don't think he even has my number. Alejandro seems mad?"

"Must have been a pretty big fight." Nick reached for his phone. "I'm calling again. He'll pick up. Right? He'll pick up."

Chris half-wondered what that was about, but didn't care too much. All he really cared about was Alejandro. He took a deep breath to try and compose himself, then walked up the stairs and to Alejandro's room.

The door was shut. Chris knocked, got no answer, and knocked again, louder. "Alejandro?" he called. "Alejandro, it's me. Are you there?"

No answer, but the light was on inside; Chris could tell by the sliver under the door.

"Alejandro, I want to talk to you. Can I come in, please?"

Nothing.

He hesitated, then turned the knob anyway, and the door opened. Alejandro was sitting at his desk, back to the door, pouring over a giant textbook. He had a highlighter in one hand, but was clutching it tightly enough that the skin of his knuckles was white.

"Alejandro, please. I want to talk."

Alejandro didn't move, and he didn't speak. Chris waited, feeling a little ill. He hadn't known what to expect, but certainly not this.

"Alejandro…" he said again, weakly. "I don't know what… Please just tell me why you're upset. I mean, I know we were fighting and all but I'm sorry. I was a real dick, and you were right, and I'm snotty and spoiled and… and everything you said. And I'm so, so sorry. You're the most important person in the world to me and I really want to talk this out… Alejandro, please."

Alejandro capped the highlighter and dropped it on the desk. Chris waited, and finally, Alejandro slammed the book shut too, stood up and spun around to face him.

"Alejandro—"

"Get. Out."

Chris swallowed. "Please…. You don't mean that. I'm so sorry… All I want is to fix things. All I want is you."

Alejandro stared at him, his face a mask of anger. He didn't move or speak.

Chris nodded. "Okay. But… when you're ready to talk, please… I'll be here, okay? When you want to talk."

He hurried out of the room, and shut the door behind him. It wasn't until he was back in his own room that he realized he'd probably lost the best thing that had ever happened to him.

When Nick's phone rang at 1:30 that afternoon, he had never been so relieved in his life. Like he knew it would be, the screen lit up with a picture of Ryan grinning at him, flashing his name and number below. "Babe, hi, what happened? Where'd you go last night, I called you a million times."

"Yeah, I noticed. I have nineteen missed calls from you and seven from CJ."

Nick laughed nervously. "I thought maybe… you were avoiding me?"

"Sweetie, if I was going to avoid you, I don't think I'd answer CJ's call, either."

"You were avoiding me!"

"No! No, not at all! They stole my phone."

"Who?"

"Sean and Jack. They, uh, stole it. I just got it back when I threatened to key Sean's car. I was serious, too, I had the key ready to go when he finally gave it back."

"Why did Sean and Jack steal your phone?"

"'Cause they kinda… walked in on us talking. And when I wouldn't tell them who I was talking to… They kinda wanted to see my outgoing calls list… And when I wouldn't show them…"

"Oh, babe." He paused. "You couldn't have called me from someone else's phone?"

"Well, I was going to, but they locked me in the garage."

"They what!"

"So, um, Sean wasn't too thrilled about the whole… me and you thing. It was for my own good, Jeremy said."

"Wait, Jeremy locked you in the garage?"

"He more locked Sean out of the garage until he calmed down. Hence me being in perfect position to key his car if he didn't give my phone back."

"Oh, sweetie. I'm sorry you had a rough night."

"Well, I guess it was worth it… They know now, no more hiding. Except from the press, I mean. And our fans."

"Well, of course. So… Is everything okay?"

"Well, I have a black eye and Sean's got some claw marks. And to think, he makes fun of my manicures. Jack tried to get between us and got elbowed hard enough to bruise his stomach, and Sean kind of went after Jeremy when he suggested that maybe us dating isn't the end of the world…"

"Is Jeremy okay?"

"The doctor said minor lacerations."

"Oh my god!"

"Kidding! Uh, bloody nose, but he pinned Sean down on the floor for long enough for me to get in the garage, and he looked okay just now…"

"Where was Tony through all of this?"

"At the bar down the street."

"Sounds like Richard." Nick sighed. "So you're all right now? Things in the band okay?"

"Well, Sean's not talking to me, and he and Jeremy aren't talking, and he and Jack aren't talking, and Anthony pretty much hasn't come home from the bar yet, and Jack's pissed off, and Jeremy's scared that if he's caught talking to me Sean will jump him again, so… yeah, it's all normal here in the Uptown Boyz home."

"Have you ever considered moving out?"

"Every single minute. But then I've got you leaving me nineteen adorable voicemails, and things look a little better. I love you, you know."

"I love you too. I was so worried…"

"Hey, Sean's got a sweet car; I slept in the back seat. It wasn't so bad, except I knew you'd be worried so I was worried."

"You shouldn't have."

"Well I couldn't help it. How can I not be worried when I never stop thinking about you?"

"Oh, you," Nick laughed.

Ryan laughed too. "It's nice to hear someone sounding happy. Everything at your place is cool, then, I take it?"

Nick hesitated. "Good question." A door slammed shut loudly upstairs and Nick winced involuntarily. "I'll have to get back to you on that…"

"Something wrong?"

"I think there's some trouble in paradise. I gotta go check that out."

"Okay, call me later."

"I will. Love you, babe."

"I love you too."

"I love you more."

"No, I love you more."

Nick and Ryan started laughing at the same time, and Nick made a kissy noise into the phone before he hung up. He sighed, dropped his phone in his pocket, and started for the stairs. Something was wrong, and he had the feeling it had ended up as more than a minor fight. Richard still wasn't home, and Chris had been totally disheveled… There was no yelling upstairs, but the door slam was ominous.

He started with Alejandro, figuring he was easier to talk to for the most part. He knocked and there was no answer, so he called, "Alejandro? You wanna talk?"

There was a pause, then finally, "Come in."

Nick let himself in. Alejandro was lying on his side on the bed, looking miserable. Nick sat down in the chair and waited.

"I really don't want to talk."

"What happened?"

"Chris…" He trailed off, then shrugged. "He slept with Richard."

"He what!" Nick gaped.

"Yeah," Alejandro said. "So, um, I don't feel much like talking."

"He cheated on you?" He paused. "With Richard?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure?"

"They were naked in bed when I walked in, so, yes. I'm pretty sure. Nick, I really don't want to—"

"Excuse me." Nick stood up. "I think I have to go kick Chris's face in."

Alejandro rolled over to stare up at the ceiling. "Have fun," he muttered.

Nick hesitated, torn between trying to comfort his friend and wanting to go kill his other friend, and decided that it would be easier to massacre Chris than it would be to comfort Alejandro, and let himself out of the room. Chris's was a short stomp down the hall, and he let himself in without bothering to knock.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded, crossing his arms and slamming the door shut.

"I have a headache." Chris was also lying on his bed, curled into the fetal position and clutching a pillow to his stomach. "And if you think you can make me feel any worse, well, you can't, so just leave me alone."

"No, I don't think I will. What the hell were you thinking!"

"You already said that!"

"Well?"

"I don't know, okay? I was pissed off and drunk and Richard was there and I didn't think anything was going to happen and I didn't mean for anything to happen, and after we broke into the minibar my memory is a little fuzzy so I don't even know what happened, all I know is that when I woke up this morning I'd screwed up my life, so just leave me alone."

Nick shook his head. "I don't get you," he said. "First you hate Richard. Then you hate Alejandro. Then you and Rich are friends and all you want is Alejandro, and then you get him and you screw him over by screwing Rich!"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Chris yelled. "I just want to die or something."

"Yeah?"

"No. What I want is for Alejandro to come bring me aspirin and kiss me and tell me it's okay. But that's not going to happen, so I'll settle for lying here on my own and feeling like crap."

"Good," Nick snapped.

"Hey," Chris snapped back, as Nick started out of the room. "Don't forget to be this nice to Richard when he gets home."

"You can count on that. If I slam the door, will it hurt your head?"

"Yes."

"Good." Nick slammed the door.

Richard felt a little ill all over again every time he looked at Chris. Not that Chris wasn't attractive; he was. Lots of people would have killed to sleep with him. But he was Chris. He was like Richard's little brother.

Chris was also, notably, not speaking to him. But then, neither was anyone else. He was only comforted by the fact that they weren't speaking to Chris either, so at least the snubbing was equitable. But that didn't make up for the fact that Alejandro's eyes were bloodshot and he wouldn't even look up at anyone. He hadn't spoken a word that Richard had heard.

"I get the feeling you're not all really here today, hmm?"

Richard looked up at Denton guiltily. They were having a fairly important meeting; Denton had worked out their schedule for the next few months, and they were supposed to be discussing what they wanted for the upcoming Nobody's Puppet tour, which still hadn't dropped off Billboard's top ten list.

"Sorry," Nick said, speaking for the band. "So what're we up to?"

"Well, the way I see it, if you guys are willing to get intensive about this, we can get the tour ready to go in a month. It'll mean doing full time choreography, but you've all done that before."

There was a round of nods and a murmur of assent, so he continued, "We'll be working with a few guys on the choreography; you all said you wanted a little more variety in your dances. The combination should be pretty killer."

Richard managed not to groan at Denton's attempt to sound hip. Killer?

"And Wayne has also signed up; he's eager for a chance to work with you boys again."

Richard glanced at Chris, expecting a reaction, but Chris didn't say anything. Richard didn't, either, though he wanted to complain. After all, Wayne had stolen Shawna from him, and if he and Shawna hadn't broken up, he and Chris would never have slept together, and Chris and Alejandro would still be together… But complaining would hardly have been professional, and Denton seemed to consider them actual businessmen who would do what it took to stay on top. So they would, they just wouldn't like it.

Richard certainly didn't like it. Not when it brought Wayne back into their lives.

"So…" Denton said. "I'm judging by the silence that you're all either hung over, or something pretty big went down last night. Which is it?"

Nick cleared his throat. "Both, but don't worry, we'll be ready to work."

"Well, good, you start work tomorrow. Any questions?" No one spoke. "Okay, well, I'll be in my office if you guys wanna rap or anything."

Richard glanced over at Chris, who also didn't react to Denton's attempt at slang. And Chris not laughing at other people was not a good sign.

Denton left them alone, and it was the first time that day the five boys had been in one place. No one moved, but no one spoke.

Finally, CJ said, "Well, this sucks."

"That was eloquent, thanks," Alejandro muttered.

"That's what I'm here for, buddy."

"Look," Richard broke in. "We screwed up, we know that. We all still have to work together."

"With Wayne," Chris muttered.

Alejandro rolled his eyes.

"With all of us," Richard said. "So I just want to say that I'm sorry, and I get that everyone's pissed at me, and you all should be, but I'll… Do my best to still be a professional, and everyone else should, too."

"Out of everyone here, you think it's your place to talk about professionalism?" CJ snapped.

"I'm trying to be mature about this—"

"Good, you be mature, the rest of us are pissed off. Except maybe Alejandro, who's heartbroken. So fuck you," Nick said.

"Hey," Chris said. "He was right about being professionals, okay, so—"

"Chris, you really don't want to be the one to tell the rest of us how to behave today."

"I'm sorry!" Chris yelled. "Jesus Christ, I have never been more sorry about anything in my life! And I'd take back everything last night if I could, but I can't so until I figure out some way to fix this, we're still going to have to live with each other."

"No, we don't," Alejandro said softly, the first time he'd spoken up; the first time he'd said a word to Chris at all. "One of the nice things about winning our lawsuit is that we can afford to live wherever we want. And I really don't want to live with you right now."

"Alejandro—"

"I'll get an apartment in town, and I have a car; I'll be here on time in the mornings and will still work just as hard. It won't matter."

"It matters to me."

"You'll understand if I'm skeptical about that."

"Alejandro, please," Richard said. "We don't want you to feel like you can't stay here, this is your home."

Alejandro gave him a dull stare, and the knot in his stomach began to twist painfully.

CJ cleared his throat. "This sucks," he repeated. "But we'll support you no matter what you choose, okay, Alejandro?"

Alejandro nodded.

"And we'll keep working together as a group, and smiling for the cameras, because we don't have a choice. It doesn't matter who did what when we're in public. Right?"

More nods.

"Okay. Hey," he turned to Alejandro, "if you want to later, I'll go apartment shopping with you."

"Thanks," Alejandro said, and though he probably meant it, he didn't sound like he was looking forward to it. He sounded miserable.

Chris swallowed. "I meant it," he said, "when I said I'd find a way to make this right."

"Good luck," Nick muttered.

"Maybe it would be easier if you'd mind your own business."

"Maybe I'd mind my own business if you didn't just upset one of my friends."

"I thought I was your friend."

"You were."

Chris shut up abruptly. Richard's gut began to hurt again. "Excuse me," he said. "I have to go puke."

"Is the hangover worse when you've been drunk for three months straight?" CJ called after him as he hurried out of the room. Richard pretended he hadn't heard.

Richard had been staring at the TV for the last couple of hours. He didn't know what was on and really, he didn't care. He was only hanging around their living room in the hopes of managing to speak to Alejandro.

By the time he'd emerged from the bathroom after retching until there was nothing left in his stomach, the meeting had broken up. Chris had apparently holed himself up in his room, Nick was busy on the phone with Ryan (or so he assumed by the constant cooing), and CJ and Alejandro had left to go apartment hunting.

Richard had really, really wanted a drink – just a little something, anything to make him feel less wretched – but he wasn't letting himself touch alcohol. The way he saw it, drinking had gotten him into quite enough trouble already.

Just as he was starting to consider working up the energy to reach for the remote control in the hopes that there was something on more entertaining than Full House, he heard the sound of the front door opening and closing again with a quiet snick. It sounded like CJ and Alejandro were back, and they were trying to be as silent as possible.

He waited, knowing that they would have to walk through the room to get to the stairs. It took a couple of minutes – evidently, they noticed that someone was in the room watching Full House, and neither one particularly wanted to deal with that. However, they didn't have much of a choice, and after a long moment, CJ poked his head into the room.

"Hey," Richard greeted him awkwardly.

CJ nodded in return.

"Um, how was apartment hunting?"

"We found a couple of decent places." CJ shrugged. "Nothing definite yet."

"Oh. Uh, okay." Richard paused. "So… Uh… Do you think Alejandro would talk to me?"

"Hmmm. No."

Richard exhaled, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. "Well, he's going to have to walk through here sooner or later… Unless you're stalling for time while he shimmies up the drainpipe."

"Rich, he just doesn't want to talk, okay?"

"Can he listen?"

"You should back off," CJ said quietly, but not without a hint of warning in his voice.

"For the love of…" Richard trailed off. "Look, CJ, Alejandro's a big boy. Can he at least tell me himself that he doesn't want to talk to me?"

"I thought he'd made that pretty damn clear earlier."

"Okay, well, we're going to have to talk sooner or later. If he never wants to talk to me again after this conversation, fine, but I want him to hear what I have to say."

There was an irritated sigh from behind CJ, and Alejandro stepped into the room, still avoiding Richard's gaze.

"Well?" he asked, arms folded. "You've got something to say, say it."

"Right. Well, uh…" Richard reached for the remote quickly and shut off the TV. He'd rehearsed what he wanted to say, but the words came out too quickly and a little garbled. "Uh, first, I know how I felt when Shawna cheated on me, so I'm really sorry, and I can't believe that I would ever do that to a friend. I really am disgusted with myself here."

"If you understand that, then you also understand why I don't want to talk to you."

"I do, I – Yeah, but just hear me out, okay? Not letting Shawna apologize was one of the stupidest things I ever did – last night excepted, of course – and really, looking back at it, I would do anything to have worked it out and to have listened to her so, uh, from experience, you really should talk to Chris."

"Well, clearly you didn't learn anything else from experience, like, say, oh, I don't know, sleeping with someone in a relationship is bad."

"I was getting to that!" Richard said, attempting somewhat unsuccessfully to not whine. "I know, I was wrong, but you need to keep in mind that I was wrong, and it was really all my fault. Really. Chris was just, uh, well, he didn't know what to do when you were mad. I was the one who gave him the drink and the one who brought him to the hotel room and the one who… Uhhhh… Theonewhostartedthings."

Alejandro stared at him.

"I mean, obviously I was smashed out of my mind too, or I never would have done it, but I need you to know that I've decided to stop drinking and I haven't had a drink all day, even though I really, really wanted to. And I barely even remember what happened. I just know it was my fault so you should consider that and hate me and forgive Chris."

"That's a nice thing you're trying to do for him," Alejandro said flatly, "and I appreciate you being honest, but… Chris cheated on me. There's no way around that."

"But it was my fault! I was as – as bad as he always accused Wayne of being, with my 'come here, innocent little boy, I have alcohol!'"

Alejandro blinked. "What?"

Richard gestured helplessly. "Never mind. Just… It was my fault, it really was. If there's anything I can do…"

"I think you've done enough." Alejandro paused. "If Chris had actually loved me, no matter how drunk he was, he would have said no."

"Are you sure?" Richard asked desperately. "I mean, he was really, really drunk."

"Yeah. I'm sure. But I appreciate you being honest."

"So…" Richard stared at the floor. "Are you never going to talk to me again?"

"At some point, probably," Alejandro replied. "Just… give me a while."

"Whenever you're ready. But I really am seriously done drinking for a while."

"Good." Alejandro nodded, then resumed his walk upstairs.

CJ, who had stood silently while Richard and Alejandro spoke, now cleared his throat.

Richard wearily glanced over at him. "Gonna yell some more?"

"No, I think you've been yelled at enough." CJ almost smiled. "For today, at least."

"Gee, thanks."

"Well…" CJ shrugged. "You tried."

It was four days later when they first met with Wayne, and the previous night was the first one Alejandro had spent on his own in the new apartment. It had been lonely and he'd had trouble sleeping, but at least he wasn't bothered by people wanting to talk, and the haunted looks Chris kept giving him every time he walked down the hall. Of course he still had to spend most of his day at the house, but it would probably be a little relief in the evenings.

Wayne had grown his hair out a little and had it gelled back, but the sweat was basically counteracting the gel and it kept falling in his eyes. "Hey, can I borrow a bandanna tomorrow?" he asked Alejandro during a five minute water break.

"Sure."

He glanced around. "Everything okay around here? You guys usually talk more than this. And joke and stuff. I mean, I know Richard, uh, hates my guts and hopes that I die, and Chris has never liked me for some reason, but usually you guys seem to be all… brotherly."

Alejandro shrugged. "Times change."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"I really wish people would stop asking me that."

"Okay, I get it." Wayne nodded. "Whatever it is, it's screwing up Chris's rhythm."

"What rhythm?" Alejandro muttered to himself.

Wayne laughed. "So you and Chris have a fight? Some of the things I hear through the grapevine about you two…"

"Well, if the grapevine was Shawna, she needs to keep her mouth shut. And her legs closed, but that one's none of my business," Richard said from over Alejandro's shoulder.

Wayne rolled his eyes. "I think that's our cue to get back to work," he said, giving Richard a very bright, very fake smile.

As they worked on their routine in the mirror, Alejandro learned it easily and found himself glancing at Chris's reflection. Wayne was right; Chris's rhythm was off. It wasn't just the dance steps, which he was having enough trouble with, but he seemed to have forgotten how to count to sixteen. But Alejandro shrugged that off; if Chris was too upset by other things, it was his own fault.

When they were finishing up for the day, he caught up with Wayne as Wayne began to tie his sneakers to head off.

"So how're we looking?"

"Well, you're some kind of prodigy, and everyone else… It's just the first day, they'll get it."

"So they didn't manage to drive you off?"

Wayne laughed. "I'm getting paid enough money to put up with Richard and Chris."

"Must be a lot."

"Uh, yeah."

"Enough to take a nice guy out to dinner?"

Wayne stared at him for a second, then nodded. "Yeah, I think I could probably cough up for that. Why, you know any nice guys?"

"I've got a new apartment and haven't had anyone around to see it yet. If you wanted to do dinner, I could give you the grand tour afterwards."

"Well, you've grown up since we last worked together."

"Yeah, I have."

"So… sure, what the hell. We should both go shower, but I'll meet you wherever you want downtown."

"Great." Alejandro smiled as they made plans and walked out together, seeing Chris's reflection in the mirror behind him. And he wasn't proud of how satisfying it was to see Chris staring after him, heartbroken.

But Chris didn't say anything when Alejandro and Wayne arrived together for work early the next morning, with Wayne driving and still wearing the clothes he'd left in the previous day.