Gray Room
For once the walls in the green room were actually green. Pale green, a nice shade actually. Soothing. He knew it would have been carefully chosen for the appropriate psychological effect. Calming, but not too calming. After all, it wouldn't do to have your guests actually falling asleep on you. It was hard enough for everyone to stay awake as it was.
Justin slowly turned his mug in his hands, warming them as the scent of the peppermint tea washed over him. He liked tea, especially at 7:15 in the morning when he was sitting waiting to go out and have to be live and cheery at far too early. And he paused, staring into the pale brown liquid, feeling vaguely guilty for that thought. Sure, they had to get up at 6 to be there today, but he could vaguely remember reading somewhere that Katie Couric got up everyday at something insane like 4:00 in order to start her day. He counted back, realizing that she would have to go to bed at 8:00 at night in order to get decent sleep. And he doubted that happened too often. So really, there was no reason to be snippy about having to get up early to do this.
He relaxed into the couch, letting his head tip back, his eyes dropping almost completely closed. He learned back in Germany that from this position he could still see but anyone looking at him would assume his eyes were shut. It was one of the few advantages he had ever found to having long eyelashes.
He glanced around the room, slowly surveying them all. Joey was slouched on the couch across the room, nearly asleep. Joey was running especially ragged lately, trying to balance baby and them and acting and everything else. He took his sleep where he could. And Lance was over talking quietly to someone; he wasn't sure whom, in the corner. He thought it was someone who was an intern on the movie who now was a PA here. It was hard to remember though. Lance was so careful to try to remember everyone he worked with, reminding them gently when they teased that you never knew who could end up helping you. But Justin knew that wasn't the real reason. Lance just liked having someone, anyone he knew and could call by name in all these places they found themselves. It made Lance feel less like he was always alone.
Justin leaned forward and carefully placed his tea on the low table in front of him, not wanting to spill any on his clothes. That would not be good. He nestled deeper into the corner of the couch, smiling slightly as the sound of JC's voice caught his ear. JC was turned into the other corner, humming under his breath, his eyes slightly unfocused. Justin knew that JC was getting nervous again, concerned as always at his inability to articulate under the harsh demands of 10 second answers. He often thought it wasn't fair that the time constraints for their public appearances were always so tight. It wasn't that JC wasn't articulate; it was that his thoughts took time to develop. And television simply didn't allow that luxury.
The humming was soothing and he had to fight not to let his eyes completely close. He rested his head on one hand, letting his other idly pick at a thread on his jeans. Chris was standing over by the craft services table, battling with Lance over whether or not he could have another cup of coffee. He had to fight to hold back a laugh; he knew full well that Chris was drinking mint tea that morning too. Chris's throat was sore and he was of the firm belief that peppermint tea was the best possible ward to a cold. Of course, he was drinking his out of a coffee mug. Without the bag. And closing his eyes and sighing out "ahhh, caffeine" loudly. And bouncing on the balls of his feet. Justin was always amazed at the lengths he would go to for jokes only he would ever know about.
Not that he was going to complain about getting the chance to sit here and surreptitiously watch as Chris vibrated with energy and life. Justin plucked at the thread as his eyes followed Chris across the room, noting the way Chris really couldn't stay still. They joked about it a lot, but it was true, Chris hated to be still. He could never sit quietly in the corner and simply survey the world around him. It wasn't part of who he was.
"Two minutes to air, gentlemen." They all nodded and murmured thanks and Justin shifted a little, trying to work up the energy to go out and project that air of utter confidence he was always supposed to have. He blinked a few times, running his tongue over his teeth and briefly wishing he remembered to bring some Vaseline or something to slick over them so that his lips wouldn't stick when he smiled. The studio lights always sucked every bit of moisture from his body.
"Hey, about time you woke up." The couch bounced as Chris threw himself onto it, his arm automatically draping over Justin's shoulders.
"Wasn't asleep," Justin smiled over at him, warmth easing through his body from the familiar weight.
"Sure looked it, thought I was going to have to come over here and poke you with a stick to see if you were still alive. C'mon." Chris sprung to his feet and held out a hand to pull Justin up. Justin took it and let Chris tug him to his feet, only helping a little. He grinned at Chris's grunt.
"Very funny, trying to get the old man to throw out his back." Chris hit him in the stomach as JC, Lance and Joey moved to stand next to them.
"One minute to air. Gentlemen, if you could please follow me."
They stood bunched tightly together as they stood in the wings, Chris pressed tightly against Justin's body. He could smell makeup and mint and the faint deep musk of Chris's scent. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. He opened them as they began to move forward, the cheering from the audience their cue. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as they made their way onto the small set. He hoped that would hide their shaking.
Gray Room
Although you sit in a room that is gray,
Except for the silver
Of the straw-paper,
And pick
At your pale white gown;
Or lift one of the green beads
Of your necklace,
To let it fall;
Or gaze at your green fan
Printed with the red branches of a red willow;
Or, with one finger,
Move the leaf in the bowl - -
The leaf that has fallen from the branches of the forsythia
Beside you . . .
What is all this?
I know how furiously your heart is beating.