Justin woke up in Lance's bed.

He looked around, and didn't see Lance.

There were a lot of things that he thought he remembered, a lot of wonderful and frightening things, a lot of bullshit and colors of the rainbow that didn't exist. But now, with the sunshine back and one huge mothefucker of a hangover, things seemed quiet. Calm.

He got out of bed, and went to take a piss. Halfway through, he looked down at his hand, and saw a word tattooed on his thumb, on the back of his hand. It was in no language Justin had ever seen, no script that was familiar. He could read the word. It read "barbelith".

Justin blinked, and in that instant, his hand read "pop" in plain english. He shook himself off, put on some sweatpants, and went out into the hall. He heard Chris say, "and there's no way?" and Lance reply, "she's busy, and not interested."

Justin stood in the hallway, frozen, and Chris replied, "he'll be disappointed. I think he has a crush on her."

Lance snorted. Justin held his breath. Lance said, "well, he'd be biting off more than he could chew. Could you imagine, the second she brought out any of the real--" and they turned the corner, and saw Justin, and clammed up immediately.

Chris wrapped his arms around himself, and said, "Hi, J." Lance nodded to him. Justin surreptitiously covered his hand.