Gerard recognizes him, and that's not weird, but a little bit, because he was pretty sure the only boyband member he would recognize on sight was Timberlake and only then because of the whole "wardrobe malfunction" thing and whoa did that kid ever not pay his publicist enough. But Gerard does, the letters of his name sliding into place as he watches JC's eyes crinkle in laughter, watches him fold over with it—a surprising lack of grace in a man who made a good chunk of his career out of dancing. Still, Gerard thinks he can see where it might come from. Gerard knows he's nowhere near as enthralling when he doesn't have a microphone in his hands.