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aruan
From the Madame Tussaud's unveiling of their wax figures on December 11th, 2002. Recounting Lance's audition for the group, JC said something along the lines of, "He started singing and we didn't let him go." Lance may have been their fifth, an eleventh-hour replacement without the training or experience of the others, looking for a moment to be the caveat of the entire group. He may have continued to be the odd man out for his dancing, but they believed in him then and nobody doubts the decision now. I've no doubt that each of the others was somehow instrumental in helping Lance make the transition into well-earned popstardom.
An appropriate little day-in-the-life - being a cultural icon isn't all sparkly clothes and swank parties, even when you've made it.
Run Through by Synchronik
"I," he says finally. "I just wanted to say thanks. For today."
Joey thinks back. For today? For a stupid chicken joke and little else. He stares at Lance, who is still not looking at him, still staring at the floor.
"Um, sure," he says, putting one hand on Lance's arm. "No problem, man."
He's not sure what does it, exactly, maybe his hand on Lance's newly bony shoulder, but suddenly Lance is trembling, and Joey realizes that he is not looking up because he's crying again, and is probably embarrassed, and probably wants to bolt, which is what Joey would want to do if he'd lost thirty pounds in three weeks and ended up having a nervous breakdown with two more days of hell to go through.
First story I ever read by him, fell in love immediately. To me, his Lance (whenever in the timeline he's writing him) is always as canon as you can get without actually knowing him. His Joey is warm and compassionate and not at all the inconsiderate, oblivious caricature some tend to fall back on. This is the Joey/Lance pairing in my head, and of course Lance gets stronger and more confident as things happen, but this is what it would've been like, when nothing was for sure for him which was a lot longer than any of the others or the group.
