This is yet another story about those hunky boys of the Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync written by a straight woman. Therefore, please excuse my writings if they appear to be a bit screwed due to my lack of knowledge. This story is a work of FICTION (note the term FICTION- I can't stress this enough) and is purely written for the sole purpose of entertainment and enjoyment. Yes! Entertainment. That's all... think of it like a movie. You watch for entertainment and you read for entertainment. These events did not happen to the best of my knowledge and therefore actions taken in this story do not reflect the true nature of the characters involved. This story does not imply anything about the sexuality of the person(s) involved. And if you're an underage teenie or do not wish to read about male/male sexual relationships, this is now the time to shut your lap-top as there will be sexual explicit scenes throughout. Proceed with your own risk. Enough with the warnings, now on with the story.
A TALE OF TWO BOYBANDS
Free at last. Free at last. Justin was now free, skipping along the paved road. With his luggage in hand, Justin trekked away from the country house with the peach orchard he loved. He had walked several miles before he realized he was lost and clueless, but free nonetheless. Not even getting lost could damper his euphoric mood at the moment. Unfortunately, the moment went and gone.
He saw the sun beginning to descend below the clouds. In no time, it would be dark. Justin began to curse himself for not preparing himself for this excursion he was taking. He was quite aware this day would come sooner or later. It was inevitable. Yet, he was completely unprepared. He should have taken a look at a map of the town at the very least. Instead, he spent his locked up days playing with stray cats and challenging Ted to games of basketball. Now, he was lost. There he was- alone in a strange town. All the settings were unfamiliar to him.
As he strolled from street corner to street corner, he could feel eyes weighing heavily on him as they stared down on the stranger, who was trespassing their lawns. A good looking guy in expensive clothes as himself must have come from one place and one place only- the country estate belonging to Kevin Richardson and Brian Littrell. He quickly flashed his million-dollar smile with little success. A wrong turn could be his last. It was now dark. Oh the Lord would never be on his side. He was standing in the corner of Wilson Way and Charter Way. At a distance, he could see some lights. He picked up speed and rushed to the building trimmed with neon lights on the corner. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. He lifted his head only to be faced with a bar. A bar, of all places, he stopped by. However, at least, there was bound to be a phone for him to make a desperate call. He picked up his pace and walked into the bar.
The bar was dark with smokes emitting from each corner of the room. A single pool table stood in the middle of the bar. Off the right was the actual bar. And to the left were some arcade games. He could smell the beer intoxicating the air. It was making him nausea already. His head hung low. He didn't want anyone to notice he was there. Just his luck, someone had spotted the clean-cut, pretty white boy with blonde curls in his vibrant red DKNY sweater among the leather-clad patrons. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Justin ignored the nuisance that had breathed on his neck at the bar. Eddie Joe, as the man introduced himself, offered to buy Justin a drink, but he refused. The man insisted, again, and finally Justin accepted. Justin got a whiff of the strong brewing alcohol and knew very well if he were to take even one drop, he would not be able to walk out of the bar. He excused himself from the bar after receiving directions to the pay phone from the bartender. Justin managed a weak smile in the direction of his new friend. He walked past a few more bodies to get to the pay phone. As he walked, he could sense he was being followed. He heard more footsteps after him. Why on earth did I come here, again? He picked up speed, but it was useless. A man intercepted his path.
Justin was dragged several yards back to the main bar. He was tossed roughly onto the pool table. Immediately he was surrounded by a group of men. They pulled on his limbs, stretching his arms and legs. He was held in place on the pool table by four strong men. Eddie Joe, obviously their leader, launched forward to greet him.
"Hey, friend. I didn't even have a chance to ask your name." He hissed.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Justin shrieked.
"Such foul language from such a pretty face." The man chastised. "I hate all you pop stars, making so much money doing nothing while the rest of us have to work our asses off."
"What are you going to do?" Justin stammered.
"I'm going to make a porn star out of you." The man answered.
Justin surrendered to his fear. He began to cry to himself, hoping that the man would pity him and give him mercy. He was wrong. The man glared into Justin's tearful eyes. His gaze trailed along Justin's lengthy body. His eyes soon met his hand tugging Justin's leather belt. He expertly removed the belt and with a knife, severed the button that held Justin's pants.
Justin let out another whimper as he felt the rough hand invade his boxers. The man temporarily abandoned his task to tend his new friend. He leaned over Justin, turning Justin to face him.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" The man asked.
"They're, they're not going to watch, are they?"
Justin sighed with a little relief that the man had some decency to not involve his entire troop.
"They're not observers, Justin. They're participants."
The man returned to lay his body on top of Justin. He whispered reassuringly to Justin, who remained bound by his four friends.
"I'll try to be gentle." The man told Justin as he worked on removing his sweater. "But if I get a little rough, just think of me as JC."
"How do you know JC?" Justin asked.
"Do you always ask questions?"
"No. If you do know him, you'd know that JC's a gentleman." Justin managed to utter.
The man stopped at Justin's comment. He tossed a glance at his friends, who immediately released Justin. Justin grabbed his wrist, rubbing them.
"You're right. I can be a gentleman, too. How silly was I?" The man grabbed Justin's wrist, dragging him off the pool table. "Let's go upstairs instead. There's a room for us."
It was hopeless as Justin felt his body dragged up the stairs to the second floor. The man stopped momentarily half way up the stairs. Not once did he release Justin from his grip.
"Boys, take a number." The man stared down at the struggling boy who whimpered helplessly. "When I'm done, I'll send in the next in line."
The drunken bastard tossed Justin on the bed. Justin barely had enough time to adjust to the stench-ridden bed before the man got on top of him, pinning him down, and grabbing anything he got his dirty hands on. Justin struggled as unwanted hands groped him. He couldn't push off the heavy weight that trapped him. He turned his head. His eyes focused on the lamp on the nightstand. He stretched out his arm, successfully gripping the lamp. He now had a choice in the situation. Either lay here on the bed for this man to rape him or muster all his energy and courage to strike the man in the head.
Both men screamed out in pain as the man tore at his sensitive testicles leaving Justin with little choice, but to strike the man in the head. The man toppled over onto the side of the bed. Justin quickly got on his feet and fixed himself up before realizing the blood staining across the man's face.
Justin felt his heart skipped a few beats. Sweat poured profusely from his pores. He had just killed a man. A man was lying on the floor with blood over his face because of him. He heard footsteps rushing upstairs. Still feeling the shock of having killed his first man, Justin managed to open the window and climb out. Expecting to land softly on a balcony, Justin was surprised to find himself flying out of the second story window. He instinctively covered his face with his hands and landed with his two hands planted on the ground. Quick thinking, Justin. Don't want to ruin that gorgeous face that grace the cover of every teen magazine. Of course, not.
Justin slumped forward, grabbing onto his injured leg. He limped across the street, only to fall flat in the muddy water. His face only submerged for a brief second, but it was enough. More than enough filth on him. In the distant darkness, he could hear heavy animalistic footsteps galloping towards him. Just great. Is this how the legacy of Justin Timberlake will end? Raped and beatened on some filthy street corner overlooking a Baptist church? The irony was too great to decipher. He shook the morbid thought and gathered all his strength to throw himself to the next corner. Only, he overestimated his strength and landing right in front of a driving car.
***Will Justin make it in time to celebrate Lance's 21st birthday? Will Brian make it to finally get his way with Justin? Tune in next time for the next installment of "A Tale of Two Boybands" to find out. Until next time, thank you for the continual support. You guys are awesome! Even those who don't email me. Take care. ThanksJ