Date: Fri, 21 Apr 2000 21:58:43 GMT
From: Dave McGrath <dragon_reborn88@hotmail.com>
Subject: Utopia (chapter 7)

   This story is purely fictional and it's not suggesting anything about the
sexuality of either N'Sync or Backstreet Boys. I'm not trying to imply that
either one of the band members is homosexual or bisexual. I also do not
suggest this story to anyone who is offended by erotic homosexual stories or
who is under the age of eighteen.

   I know it has been months since I updated the story, but I had to stop
and figure out where I want it to go. Thanks to all who e-mailed me with
compliments and critics, I like to know what kind of people find my story
interesting. I apologize to people who complain about not being able to
follow the plot, but I have no intention of changing it. I'm not going to
change it so it would fit people's expectations. That's not the reason I
started writing in the first place.
I also can't promise that I'll continue writing or that story will have an
end. I write when I feel like it and I stop when I have no more inspiration.
Once again, thanks to the people who sent me e-mail and their comments. I
never get tired of reading them.

          **************************************************

   She walked down the hallway with books in her hands and ice cold
expression on her face. The hallway was empty and quiet; it looked dirty and
usual, like every school hallway across the world, with dirty yellow lockers
on one wall, and big posters from ice hockey game on the other.
Long red hair gracefully curled on her shoulders, making her blue eyes seem
like two large sapphires in the winter fire. Her steps were strong and her
head lifted up high, like she was above everything and everyone. The clothes
she was wearing were also perfect, while there wasn't one thing on her that
looked out of place. It seemed almost as you're looking at one of those
mannequins from the windows of the rich clothing stores; too perfect to be
human. She looked cold and untouchable, while her steps echoed in the empty
hallway and seemed to give her even more confidence.
Stopping by her locker, she exchanged books and took her leather jacket out,
throwing it on over her black sweater. Then she picked up her books, and
shutting her locker maybe little too quickly, turned around to leave right
away. Tall figure in school sport jacket blocked her way before she managed
to make one step. His jacket read "Ice Hockey Knights" on the front, with
picture of crossed hockey sticks below it. He looked strong and perfect;
looking at them across from each other it seemed like they could be the
couple of the century. While he smiled, her face stayed cold and
untouchable. His voice was deep and harsh; the kind you wouldn't like to
hear after midnight:
"Hello April, I didn't see you at a game today. I expected to see you
cheerleading with the rest of your friends. I hope you're not quitting the
team for real."
She gripped the books in her hands and mumbled through her teeth:
"Get out of my way."
The grin on his face became wider as he showed no intention of moving:
"I see you haven't changed that terrible attitude of yours. Maybe we can do
something about it, what do you think?"
His hand extended to touch her cheek but she moved away before it could
touch her:
"Don't touch me. I have no time to go wash my face throughly now."
The smile disappeared from his face as he moved closer, making her back into
the locker:
"You're one little bitch...no actually, you're one frigid bitch. Maybe
you're just a lezbo, I mean, it seems like it runs in your family and
everything..."
"Shut up," her voice was barely audible. Knowing that he touched a painful
subject, he kept digging and enjoying her facial expressions:
"It's gotta be hard having a brother who is a faggot, and still managing to
stay straight. Maybe now that he's not living with you any more, you'll
finally be able to admit to  that you're lezbo..."
Her face was getting white like the walls of the hallway:
"Shut the fuck up."
"Where is that queer of your brother anyway? I heard he moved to New
York...maybe he finally found his long-hidden passion for working on the
street corners. I can just see him being fucked over by every fag in New
York..."
"Shut up!!!"
Making an attempt to run for it, she tried to push him out of the way, but
she ended up being pushed herself, and hitting hard the locker with her
back. His voice came as a cracked whisper, but strong and overpowering in
the same time:
"Listen you little whore...you can pretend all you want, but the whole
school already knows all your dirty secrets. You might think you're all
that, but you will never be anything more than a freak. Just look at your
screwed up family; your daddy is a dishwasher and your mom just got off the
street corners. Don't even get me started on that fairy you call your
brother...or should I call him a murderer?..."
That was the last drop in already full glass. Her hand connected with his
face in an instant, and a loud slap threw his confidence off the balance.
Using that in her advance, she pushed past him him and almost managed to
escape. Just when she thought he won't try stopping her, she felt a hand
gripping the back of her neck:
"You slut! I should mess you up real good for that..."
Trying to get his hand off her throat, she shoot her elbow into his stomach.
Just as his grip became weaker, someone's hand grabbed hers and pulled them
away from each other. Her first reaction was to scream for help, but when
her eyes fell on the person in front of her, she let out a sigh of relief.
The calm face of an old, half-bold man had an indescribably calming effect
on her. He gave her a small but cold smile:
"You know the routine Miss Winslet."
She just nodded and started quickly walking down the hallway. Her legs were
slightly shaking but she didn't even notice it, happy to finally get out of
there. As she was walking away, she could hear man's angry voice echo the
hallway:
"Mr. Parker, you can get your ass into my office. Now!"

              ******************************************

   There was this uncomfortable silence again. I was seriously getting
irritated. All three of them looked like they have no clue what to do next,
while I felt like the dumbest person in the world; just standing there and
waiting for some response from either one of them.
I felt sorry for Lance. Although his facial expression was cold and seemed
completely unaffected by anything that has happened, I still couldn't help
but thinking how humiliated and hurt he must have felt. His hands were still
buried deep into his pockets and his shoulders slightly shaking, although
the room was anything but cold. In one flashing second, I wished that I
could just hug him and make him cry on my shoulder. Pushing that thought
away, I almost laughed to myself. That was the most bizarre and impossible
wish I had in the last 10 years; not only that it was impossible, but it was
stupid too.
Joey kept looking from me, to Lance, to Chris, and then back to me, like he
was expecting one of us to say something any minute. The silence was
becoming unbearable, and I even thought about saying just about anything to
break it.
Then the phone rang. Joey jumped up and picked it up, before anyone could
manage to move. After maybe a couple of seconds listening to the voice on
the other end, he covered the receiver with his palm and turned to Lance:
"Dude, it's someone named Paul or something...he says he knows you and that
it's urgent. Should I just tell him to go to hell?"
Not even letting Joey finish his sentence, Lance grabbed the phone from his
hand and answered it in half-angry voice:
"Paul? What the hell!? Do you have any idea what time is it? Why are you
even calling me on this phone?!"
The shocked expression on Joey's and Chris' face showed that it might be
better if I kept quiet. Joey looked at Chris and mouthed suspiciously:
'Paul? Who the hell is Paul?' Chris just shrugged his shoulders, but it was
obvious that his curiosity grew with every passing second.
Lance's voice changed from angry, to worried, and then to complete shock:
What?...When!?...Do you know who he is?...Are you kidding me?!...No...that's
impossible, how come you didn't know about him?...I though you had
everything covered...Yeah, are you ok?...That's good. Damn! What am I
supposed to do now?!...I know, I know...k...talk to ya later...Yeah, see
ya."
Lance hung up the phone and looked at me with blank expression on his face:
"I have to talk to you. In private."
Chris was the one first to jump up:
"Oh, no. I don't think so, you're not hiding anything from us any more. I
think we have a right to find out what the hell is going on."
Joey jumped in right after Chris, looking at both Lance and me in the same
time:
"I think we have a right to know too. You can start by telling us who the
hell is Paul?"
I looked at Lance not knowing what to say and caught him looking at me with
the same expression on his face. I could see that he was hesitating to tell
them, and gave me a quick look, like he was asking if it's OK for him to
bring my life up. That kind of threw me off. I mean at first he hired a guy
who did his best to take my life apart and study every little detail about
it, and then he turned it up-side down in less than 24 hours. After all
that, he was standing in front of me, and asking if he can bring up, already
so obvious parts of my life in front of just two people.
I gave him a simple look that said: 'Do whatever you want...I don't really
care.' Nodding slightly, he turned to Chris and Joey who were still waiting
for him to start talking. Not looking directly at them, he cleared his
throat, and started:
"Well, um...first of all, Paul is my friend, and he works for me. He's
my...um, private investigator."
Joey was staring directly at him like he didn't understand one word of what
was said:
"Your what?? Private investigator? Since when do you have a private
investigator?"
"Since last year..."
They were both staring at him in disbelief, while he was bitting his upper
lip and staring through the walls. I wanted to leave.
I could see Chris getting really pissed off, and I immediately disliked
him...he had a too short of a temper for my taste. His voice got a cruel
edge cutting the quiet atmosphere like a knife:
"Last year? You had a private investigator since last year and no one knew
about it? When were you gonna tell us that? Or let me rephrase that...were
you ever gonna tell us?"
Lance's voice was quiet and soft; he knew he messed up:
"I was gonna tell you, I just never got around to it...it's not that big of
a deal or anything."
"It's not a big deal?! First you get a private investigator without telling
anyone, and then you hire just a random stranger to bodyguard Justin?!
What's next? Are you gonna tell us that you have a husband and a kid
somewhere too, and you just 'forgot' to tell us about it?!"
As soon as the last word let his mouth, Chris realized what he said and
looked at me in panic. Lance was staring at me with this indescribable fear
in his eyes, with no trace of the cold attitude he had earlier. I knew I was
supposed to react but there wasn't much to say. I smiled calmly and nodded:
"I guess my gaydar was right again."
At first it seemed like Lance didn't really register my words; then he
smiled warmly. I couldn't help but smile back, and let myself get lost in
his eyes. What was I supposed to do? Standing in front of me was a perfect
gay guy, and he was smiling at me...and not just smiling, but letting me see
him beyond ice attitude and cold face; way beyond that, and all the way into
his soul.
I started sweating; I really wasn't ready for that.
Chris let out a sigh of relief:
"Dammit Lance, why do you make everything so complicated?..."
But there was no anger in his voice any more. The atmosphere of the room
immediately got less thick and the air was easier to breathe in.
Lance didn't wait for Chris to remind him to keep talking:
"Well, Justin read this thing online...this short story that really got to
him, and he wanted to meet the person who wrote it. Paul helped me to find
that person...and now he's here. Since Kevin is pretty good in Martial Arts,
I thought he could work here instead just hang around for free."
Joey was scratching his head:
"That seems reasonable. Why did that dude Paul call you though?"
"This is more about Kevin than us, so I don't think we should get into
it..."
Chris interrupted him: "Well, if Kevin is gonna work here, then I think we
have a right to know."
Both Lance and I were in slight shock. We both had a pretty much the same
idea what was going to happen after this whole discussion; he would get
blamed for everything for the rest of his natural life, and I would be
shipped back on the first plane. What Chris said surprised us both. I guess
Lance felt that he shouldn't say anything about it just yet, and I of course
kept quiet and let him talk.
"Someone attacked Paul this morning while he was sleeping. Apparently it was
a guy looking for Kevin...he took Paul's money and his gun too. He's on his
way over here..."
I mumbled under my breath not even noticing it: "Shit...shit!"
Getting ready to be attacked with hundreds of questions that I'll regret
answering, I looked to Lance for help, but before anyone could say anything,
someone's yelling from the floor above interrupted everyone's train of
thoughts.
Lance froze and mumbled: "Justin..."
That was enough for both Chris and Joey to jump up and run to the door.
Sighing deeply I took off after them. I had a feeling my work there was just
about to start.

          ***********************************************

   The car was hot like fires of hell. She kept her hands crossed like she
hoped to protect herself from whatever was about to hurt her. The older man
with unusually dark hair for his years, sat in the driver's seat. There was
this cruel line in-between his eyebrows, that gave away how deep in thought
he was.
When he spoke, she couldn't help jumping up slightly; his voice was strong,
like it could shake the windows:
"So April, what did you do this time?"
"I didn't..."
"Don't sell me that crap, this is third time this month that you were sent
home from school. Now what's the problem, huh? Do I need to send you to an
all girl private school or something?"
She was shoving her nails into the jacket without even noticing it:
"I didn't do anything dad...this guy just attacked me in the hall..."
"He just attacked you? Out of the blue? C'mon April, do you think I'm dumb?
What did you say to him to get him mad?"
"Nothing dad I swear!...He stared saying stuff to me..."
"Like what?"
She but her lip; no matter how much she tried telling herself that she won't
let him get her cornered, it happens every time. He stopped on a red light
and looked at her with cold expression. Almost sarcastically grinning to
herself, she realized that his expression, cold and mean as it is, was the
only one she ever knew:
"He started saying stuff about Kevin, and making fun of him..."
"That's enough!!! This is the same thing that happened last time, April damn
it, I thought you'd get smarter by now!"
The light turned green and he angrily stepped on the gas leaving black tire
marks on the street:
"I told you that I don't want his name mentioned any more!!! He's not my son
or your brother! As far as we're all concerned, he was never born!!
Understood!?!"
She wanted to scream, cry, break something, or shove her nails deep into his
skin. Instead she just sat there, and blankly stared into the space.
"Did I make myself clear April!?!"
"Yes dad."
"Good."
Her nails made a hole on the sleeve of her jacket but she still didn't
register any of it. While houses moved by her in such a speed that they
turned to a blur of color, she closed her eyes, and wished she was dead.

               End of the chepter 7