Date: Wed, 6 Sep 2000 22:29:48 EDT From: Storywrightr@aol.com Subject: Why 3-5 Why? Part 3 Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. It contains characters whom you may assume to be real-life people, but this is fantasy and in no way is to insinuate anything about any person, living or dead. Where am I? Oh, this is that street near the old house. Where we all lived together. Josh and Chris and me and Mom and Paul. Where are we going? Wait--who's here? Who's driving? I can't tell who's driving. That's weird. And why can't I ask? Nothing is coming out of my mouth. Do I have laryngitis or something? But why's the driver's head all blurry? Who's driving? The old house. Why are we driving into the driveway of the old house? The new people aren't going to like this. Unless they asked us to come back for some reason. But why am I here if I'm sick--I must be sick or why wouldn't I remember how I got here. Why wouldn't I be able to talk? Good. Someone's opening the back door. Getting something out of the back? WHOA! Why are they pulling me out the back. Where am I now? Oh. The backyard. By those bushes that never grew right. Why'd they leave me here just lying on the ground? I don't understand. And I still can't talk. Help! Ouch! They don't have to shove and kick. Who is it? Why can't I see. Whoa! I must have fallen five feet. What is this? God--it's like a . . . a . . . grave. I'm in a grave. Whose footsteps? Who's coming? Mom? Paul? Chris? Lance? Joey? . . . JC? . . . Why are they all looking down at me in this hole. Why aren't they getting me out? What's going on? Shovels? Why shovels-- [BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP] Ugh! God. What's going on? Oh, alarm clock. What? Where am I? Hotel. Hotel. New York. Hotel. Leaving today. But what was that . . . a dream? Too real. Too real. Feels like it was real. It's not going away. Too real. Oh God, please make it go away. Why do they all want me dead? It was a dream. But why do they all want me dead? Was it a dream? They all want me dead. Out of the way. Before I do something to embarrass them too much. Get rid of me. Only way. Or I could just help them and just leave. Or really leave. Leave it all. [BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP] Snooze bar. Where am I supposed to be? When am I supposed to be? [RINGING PHONE] "Hello?" "Hey Justin. Heard your alarm through the wall. You awake yet? Sounded like it was going off again and again." "Oh sorry. No. I'm okay. Thanks Lance." "Bad night?" "No. Or yes. I don't know. Not real clear on what was real and what wasn't." "Huh? You lost me." "You ever have a dream that seemed so real you can't remember it's not real? You keep thinking it was real. Keep thinking it happened. Or maybe it's going to happen. Or something." "Yeah, I guess. You've had a lot on your mind, Just. Get in the shower and meet us for breakfast. You'll feel better. You'll know you're awake then." "Yeah. I'll try." What does it all mean? I'm no shrink. How'm I supposed to know what it means? I just wish it didn't feel so real. I wish I didn't feel so scared to be around these people. I have to remember it wasn't them that pushed me into that hole. Were going to bury me in that hole. What did I do that was so bad? Why do they want me dead? How do I get help? Who will help me? Britney. She wasn't there. She doesn't want me dead. I don't think she wants me dead. I'll call her. Where is she? She's someplace. What time is it there? I don't know. I just have to call her anyway. "Hello?" "Brit?" "Yeah. Jus? What time is it?" "Where are you?" "Florida." "Oh, good, then it's like 7:30." "What's wrong?" "I'm not sure." "What do you mean?" How can I tell her I called her to save me from a dream? "I called you to save me from a dream. At least I think it was a dream. But I don't know if it was just a dream. Maybe they all hate me when I'm awake too. Maybe they all want me dead." "Justin. What are you talking about? Did you have a bad dream?" "Yeah, I guess that's what it was. Is that what it was?" "What happened in it?" "Um, just . . . just that . . . everyone . . . everyone . . . " "Everyone what, sweetie?" "Everyone, um, wanted me, um, dead." "What? What are you talking about? Who is everyone?" "All the guys. And Mom. And Paul." "What happened?" "They pushed me in a hole. Like a grave. I looked up and saw all of them looking down into the hole. Looking down at me. They all looked like it was exactly what they wanted." "Sweetie, it was a dream! Nothing but a dream. You have any ideas why you had it? I mean, you know, dreams are supposed to mean something, you know?" "Yeah, so what does this mean? That they all hate me?" This isn't working. I'm feeling worse every minute. "Maybe it means you're afraid they hate you. Or are afraid they might hate you. Especially if you change." Huh? Oh. Oh. "Justin?" "Yeah. Like if I told them the truth about me, this is how they'd act, huh?" "No. This is how part of you thinks they might act. I don't believe it's how they would act, do you?" "I don't know. . . . I don't know." "What was that banging noise?" "Someone banging on the door. I guess I'm late for breakfast." "You going to answer them?" "I guess." God, who's on the other side of this door--I don't want to see anyone--not now--not when I feel like-- "Justin, you okay? Breakfast is like almost over. Oh--you on the phone with your mom or someone?" God he's beautiful. And he looks like he really cares. Is worried even. "That sounds like Josh." Geez, I forgot I was holding the phone. "Um, I'm okay. Just on the phone with Britney." "Oh, Britney. Okay. Well, um, tell her I said hi. Didn't know you guys talked in the mornings." "Just sometimes." Please don't go. Please don't ever go. Please don't want me dead. "Well, when you finish I think Lance wanted us all to talk about some things. Anyway, I'll tell them you'll be over soon." "Good. Yeah. I'll be there in a minute." "He gone?" "Yeah." And I miss him already. "Are you feeling better?" "Am I? I don't know." "Do you at least realize it was just a dream?" "Yeah. But it seemed so real. It's like it's haunting me. Like a shadow of it is right over my shoulder or something." "Maybe you'll get rid of it after you've had your shower. Go do that. But, Jus?" "Yeah?" "Call me if you need to--okay? I'll keep my phone on. If I'm not where I can answer it, I'll be sure Susan has it and knows to bring it to me if you call, okay?" "Thanks Brit. Sorry to be such a big baby. I guess I'm just a mess, huh? Sorry." "Stop apologizing. You're my friend. You're unhappy. I want to help. But Jus? You have other friends--like those other four guys. Try to forget about the dream. Go let them cheer you up. Maybe you can even talk to them about it. You guys may all get to laughing about it." "Yeah, maybe. I'll try." "I love you." "Love you too. Bye." Alone. So alone again. Why do I always feel so alone? It's so stupid. I just want to go back to bed. I just want to go to sleep. Oh no--I can't even go to sleep anymore. It's worse there. I don't want to know they want me dead. "JUSTIN!" I don't want to face him again. I can't just look at him like nothing is wrong. But I don't have any choice. They'll go get security to let them in--like they used to when I couldn't wake up in the mornings. "Hi JC." "JC? You always call me Josh. You are in a strange mood this morning. Trouble with Britney?" Has he lost his mind? Maybe being in love makes him think everyone else is in love. Or at least everyone else should be. With a woman. "What? Why are you staring at me like that?" "Nothing. Just a bad night. Having a hard time waking up." "Bad dreams?" Watch it Justin--don't look so shocked. "Um, kind of." "I hate that." "Yeah, me too." "What was the dream?" "Huh?" Stall. Lie? Truth? Lie. Lie. Lie. "What was the dream about? You think it means anything?" "Hope not." "Huh?" Don't smile like that JC. You just melt my whole insides when you do that. Especially this close to me. Don't be so close to me. Oh, I'm still in the door. Maybe if I back up, he'll leave. No, don't follow me in! I didn't mean for you to come in. "Did I miss the meeting or whatever?" Change the subject. Change the subject. "Lance said it wasn't that important. That we can do it later on the bus or whatever." Oh damn, the bus--or the buses. And I won't even have Lance to talk to--he'll be over with Joey and Steve. I'll be stuck with Josh and Chris. I'll never hold it together with them. "Okay. So what time do we have to be wherever?" "You really are out of it today, Justin. 11:00 we go do some promos, then we're pretty much free until we leave tonight at 7:00. I have no idea why we're leaving then. Lance was working with the schedule though." "Guess it gives us more time in New York. Everyone seems to love being in New York." "Yeah. So you want to do something this afternoon? Shopping or something?" God yes, I want to do anything you will do with me for as long as you will let me be with you. I only wish it was for the rest of my life. "I don't know. Maybe I should try to sleep some more this afternoon." "But you can sleep on the bus." "I'll see. . . . I'm going to go take a shower now. See you at 11:00." "Oh, okay. Hmmm . . . remember when we were two or even three to a room? Running in and out of the bathroom? Having to take turns in the showers and drying our hair and stuff? In some weird way, I almost miss that. Seemed to hold us together more. Make us more like a family." Yeah. I miss that too. "Wouldn't really work anymore though, you know? Especially with Joey or whoever having girls stay over and stuff. Can't really do that in a group, I guess." Wipe that look off your face Josh. Just answer me or just leave. Please. Please leave. This is getting painful. "Okay. See you at eleven." "Yeah. See you." Why? Part 4 Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. It contains characters whom you may assume to be real-life people, but this is fantasy and in no way is to insinuate anything about any person, living or dead. "It's about time!" "Leave him alone JC." "What's with you Lance? We're late getting away cause he's been-- wherever he's been. I'm tired and want to get going." "That all your stuff?" "Yeah." "You taking it on the bus or you want some below or in the truck?" "I'll take it." I have to wake up. I can't believe I was asleep again. Seems like all I want to do--sleep. And now I have to be wide awake to be on the bus with Josh. Great. "Just?" Where's he leading me to? "You want to ride on the bus with Joey and me? There's room. I mean, if you don't want to be on the bus with JC." Sweet Lance. Why have I let our friendship get so strained? He really is a good guy. "Thanks Lance. I really appreciate it. I don't know if I want to start something--you know, be so obvious or whatever. But maybe you and me can talk more later? I really appreciated that yesterday. I'd like for us to spend more time together--if that's okay." "Sure." What a great smile. "I'd like that too. Let's see what the schedule allows tomorrow, kay?" "Yeah." Tomorrow. How'm I getting through tonight? "You sure you don't want to ride in our bus for a while?" "No--it'll probably be more lively than I feel like being. Maybe at one of the stops along the way, I'll see if you are awake or whatever. That be okay?" "Sure. I'm not feeling too sleepy yet." "It's so different from the old days when we were all on one bus." "You mean squeezed on one bus!" "Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess it was pretty tight. Had to take turns and vote on what movie to watch or whatever. But still--we were all together then." "Things change, Just. It doesn't mean they are worse--just different. Listen, I think they are ready to leave--we better get going. I'll talk to you later. Hey, remember, you can always call me on my cell phone." "Yeah? That would be great. Maybe I'll do that." "Okay. If you get the voice mail it's cause I have gone to sleep--I usually turn it off when I go to sleep--and when the others go to sleep." "Oh, okay. I won't call too late--if I call." Just have to keep my options open. Can't keep calling Brit all the time. Don't want to wear out Lance, but he did offer. I just wish I was okay by myself. Maybe I'll find a book or a movie or something. "Hey Curly, where you been. Busta! Come here! Want to watch a movie?" "Um, yeah, maybe. What are you going to watch?" "There are a bunch in here--see if JC wants to watch, then we can decide." Oh great, I have to ask JC. "Josh? You in there?" "Hey Justin, what's up?" "Chris wanted me to see if you wanted to watch a movie. You interested?" "What are you watching?" "Don't know yet--we were going to decide after finding out if you wanted to watch." "Yeah, if I can lie down--then I can just go to sleep there if I get too tired. Justin, why aren't you looking at me? What's going on?" So much for an acting career. I can't even pull off a night on the bus. "What are you talking about Josh? I'm not acting any way strange. You must be imagining things!" "You don't have to yell at me!" I guess I had gotten kind of loud--and kind of angry. "Sorry." "What's wrong Jus? If something's bothering you, why won't you tell me? You always talk to me when something's wrong. Why not now?" God that voice. That concern. He really does care, doesn't he? Just don't look up Justin--you see those eyes and you'll just totally lose it. "I'm okay. Maybe later. I just got things on my mind." "Is it Brit?" Are you stupid? "No. Brit's a great friend--she's just helping me figure some things out." "Oh, didn't mean to pry into your love life." You ARE stupid. "Josh, Brit has nothing to do with my love life." "Oh, sorry; I just assumed, you know? I mean you do go see her when we have breaks. And all those rumors and stuff. And you were on the phone with her this morning." And I thought you were the smartest guy I knew. "Rumors? You reading the magazines about us now?" "No--NO! I just . . . I don't know." "And who do they have YOU with in the tabloids these days? Anyone I know? Anyone I should know?" Let's see how honest you're going to be. "I don't know. No one I guess. They know I just work and sleep." "Not all the time. You don't sleep all the time. Least not alone." "What was that? You're mumbling. What did you say?" "I better go pick a movie." "Wait--just wait a minute!" Ouch, that hurt. "You don't have to grab me like that. What's with you?" "What's with you? You're acting like . . . like I don't know what." And you used to be so articulate. "Why are you just looking at me like that? Like you are staring right through me?" Seeing you for the first time, maybe. "I don't know what you mean." "I see the difference . . . You used to look at me like I was your best friend. Now you're just looking at me." Oh God--how can he read me like this? And I can't stand how hurt he sounds. Even if he hurt me, I can't stand to have hurt him. He doesn't deserve it. He's been a great friend--he can't help it if I want things that can't be. "Justin? Look at me, please?" You can do this Justin. You can do this. Just slowly turn. It'll be okay. Oh God, that face. That beautiful face all full of concern. "I'm sorry Josh--I'm sorry. It's all my craziness. Nothing anyone else needs to worry about. I'll get over it." "If it bothers you, it bothers me. You're my best friend--I love you, man. I can't stand to see you unhappy." Stop! Stop crying. He'll be able to tell even from behind me. OH! Oh God . . . yes . . . Josh holding my shoulders. If only it meant what I wish it meant. "Justin, I'm so sorry you're so upset. What can I do?" Just keep holding me forever. But lean in and really hold me. Maybe nuzzle my neck. But none of that will ever happen. "I'm okay, Josh. And thanks. It means a lot that you care. It really does. But I guess I just have to get through the rest of this alone." Alone. Always alone. Or always feeling alone. Oh don't let go. But I guess you have to, huh? "Jus, please talk to me whenever you want--whenever you need to. Okay?" "I'll try." "HEY YOU GUYS! YOU COMING TO WATCH A MOVIE?" "Yeah Chris--in a minute. You coming?" "Sure." Might as well. Some form of escape. Something to take up time. Why? Part 5 Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. It contains characters whom you may assume to be real-life people, but this is fantasy and in no way is to insinuate anything about any person, living or dead. Where am I? Oh God, I must have gone to sleep watching that movie last night. Oh my head hurts. "He's still asleep, I think. Let me look." Don't move Justin. Don't let him know you're awake. "Yeah, still asleep. He's been sleeping so much. I'm worried about him. Think he's sick? Should we get a doctor?" No answer. Oh, he must be on the phone. But with who? "Mmmm . . . Yeah . . . I know. But I just want to help, you know? I want to be able to do something. He looked so sad last night. So sad." Thanks for noticing. And thanks for caring. But none of it matters anymore. "What do you mean? I've been around. . . . What? What do you mean?" What's going on? "I've been around. Justin knows I'm here anytime he needs me. I haven't been away." Is it Britney? Who else could it be? She better not say too much. All this could blow up in my face. "Well, I don't know what he was talking about. I haven't been away. I've been here everyday, every rehearsal, every performance. . . . I'm not getting angry, I'm just worried and I don't know what to do about it." Oh God, this is really getting to be a mess. "Okay, I need to go too. Justin slept in front of the TV all night. He's probably going to be sore. I better wake him up and get him going. . . . Thanks Brit, I appreciate you talking to me." Ah, it was Brit. I'll have to call her later and see what I missed from their conver--OH, did he just sit down by my legs? Calm your breathing Justin. Calm. Steady. Calm. "Mmmmmmfff." I hope that sounded real. Like I was just moving in my sleep. Had to move--had to do something. He touched me. I couldn't just jump--he'd know I was awake. What's he doing? He's stroking my leg. God if only he meant it the way I wish he meant it. The way I'd mean it if I ever had the chance to do it to him. Oh I'd make love to that leg. Feel the muscles. Play with the hair. That sexy way it grows on his calf right down to his ankle. Ahhhh . . . both legs. Pushing up my sweats. This is getting to be more than I can take. And it's probably just going to make it all the more painful when it's over--when he goes back to just being Josh. When he goes back to that girl. "Justin? Time to wake up. Jus?" There go the hands. Probably never to be felt again. Just hang on to the memories Justin. The sweet, sweet memories. "Yeah?" "It's time to wake up. Sorry--you slept on the couch. You're probably going to be sore." "I'll be okay. But thanks." "Okay. I'll leave you to get up. I think we get in in about an hour or so. Come join us up front for some breakfast." "Okay, will after I go to the bathroom." Oh Josh . . . what am I ever going to do with you?