Ah, October. Beautiful month, huh? I know, I know. My chapters used to come out every week. Now its every month. I can't help it. I guess it's a miracle its even ready right now, I don't know. And yesterday, I actually got to see the sun: our studio was cancelled, and I literally had nothing left to do on my model, because I have to wait for the god damn art supply to restock. My friends were like, "Whoa, dude, you are actually going to go out tonight?" Granted, I had to get back by nine thirty so I could type up my chem. lab and finish my computer modeling assignment, but it was still nice to play football while the weather is still nice. Anyway, I'm way off the subject... thank you to everyone who wrote, I greatly appreciate hearing from new people, and I know I'm kind of late with replying, but I at least read everything in my box, so give me some credit.
Now, as for the story, let's get right into it, shall we?
Do not read this if you are unsure of the meaning of the word fiction, or feel it is your moral obligation to infect the world with hate. (That should cover anyone under 18, objected to gay material, and anyone assuming I know anyone from N'sync, or any of their intentions/personalities/orientation etc.)
My poor Josh. It was just too much for him to handle, especially on practically no sleep, no food, and a rough day yesterday. How would you handle someone screaming at you. At 7:30 in the morning. After no sleep?
How much time passed, after I had pulled Josh out of that chair, and sat him in my lap, and held him? Two minutes? Twenty? Two hours?
I couldn't tell, but I was guessing that it was closer to half an hour. Josh pulled back away from me to look at me, blinking away tears that I hadn't realized had fallen with his face pressed into my shoulder.
"God look at me, I can't believe I broke down like that, I'm so sorry," he said, wiping his tears away and trying not to look so upset. I wasn't fooled.
"I know, I know, you're going to tell me that its his fucking problem, and that I shouldn't care what he thinks, I know, I know," he continued, even though I hadn't said a word.
Being somewhat experienced in the comforting department, I let him get it all out and off his chest, and just held his hand while he continued.
"But it's just so...god, I don't know. It's like hearing...hearing him say those things...it just...it just makes me think of my family, and how they are going to react when I tell them," he said. I bit my lip.
"Its not...well, its just...damn it, how do I say this?..."
Finally, after a few more minutes of beating around the bush, Josh just opened his mouth and started talking, letting out a tirade of all his frustrations, everything that was bugging him. Chris's childish name-calling was just the tip of the iceberg, and as close as Josh and I were, even I didn't know about half the stuff he blurted out as stressing him.
"I know my family, and I know that they are good people. I don't think that they are going to act like Chris. I would actually be glad if they did that, it would be so much easier to deal with, I could just ignore them. But they won't do that. They are going to act just like Joey and Lance, too tactful to say that they really are uncomfortable, and instead giving me this bullshit about "being ok" with it, to save face, then treat me like some sort of alien creature. And I don't want that crap, I can't handle knowing that my family will feel one way, but tell me something different, and just thinking about my family, and Lance, and Joey and everyone, its just too much to deal with! Especially now, Johnny's been on my ass about the four day rehearsal delay, and then that bitch network executive from MTV calling to say that they want us to work on Sunday, too... ...the fucking delivery people not getting their shit together... ...and then James yelling at me on Monday for not remembering that stupid two-step move he was showing us... ...and then, to top it all off, Joey and Lance, "Oh, you're gay, Josh? Well we're ok with gay people, I mean my second cousin's best friend's niece is gay, so I totally know what you're dealing with," and you might not have noticed, but they are both totally acting differently, not just to me but to you too. They aren't ok with it either, not really, nobody is. But they say it anyway because they have to. Only Justin's really been on my side, for the most part, but because you two were fighting so much, I thought I was going to have to choose, and I just don't want to have to do this anymore! I am tired, and stressed out, and I can't even hug my boyfriend without everybody watching me, and saying go ahead, JC, we know you're gay, we always knew it, too, you were the gayest one, we've always known, and by the way, get off my ass about me being hungover at every single early morning rehearsal. We know that if we fuck up, Johnny will take it out on you, we don't give a fucking shit, and we really don't care what happens as long as you make sure that everything goes ok so that we don't have to worry about it. Well I have had it, I am tired of being so fucking taken advantage of and used, and taken for granted. I am tired of being Johnny's bitch, and having to run around like some fucking temp whenever he wants me to do something. I'm tired of being the fall guy and having to cover up for their sorry asses. Like when Chris slept with that fifteen year old, and when Joey got stoned the night of the Grammy's, or when Justin decided to celebrate his seventeenth birthday by getting so fucking wasted, he puked all over an expensive limo, and I had to pay the fucking company out of my own pocket. No more god damn it, I am tired of being the one with no life, who stays home when the rest of them are getting laid, and when I finally have someone, a life outside of working like a fucking dog every damn day, everyone just fucking says, oh, you're GAY, you're one of THOSE people, like just being gay makes me a completely different person, and that everyone except for assholes like Chris have to say "oh we're ok with it" to be politically correct, when they really think I'm some sort of freak that they have never met before."
I blinked at Josh following his explosion. I didn't know what to say. Josh started up again.
"I am not mad at you, and I'm sorry that this all had to happen just when we were starting to get closer. It's just, hearing Chris, and then Lance and Joey just standing there, not saying anything and then saying oh, don't say that, Chris, we aren't allowed to use that word, just keep your opinions to your self, it just makes me sick. And then when he started in on Justin, I just broke down. I don't know why, I just couldn't take it, I couldn't take all the insults, and seeing you and Justin, ready to kill him, and it was just too much. I had to either get out of there, or get Chris out of there. And since you were all fighting next to the door, I just closed off. I'm sorry, Austin, but when I shut down, I shut down for everything ok, even you, the sweetest, most adorable man in the world. Even for the man who is the reason I want to still wake up in the morning, and the one I'm thinking about when I sing, and the one that I know is going to be there when I come home after being treated like shit all day and he's the only one doesn't expect anything from me. He doesn't want me to do something for him, or sign something, or take care of something because he's too fucking lazy to do it himself. He just wants me, to hold me and talk to me and love me, and it makes me so happy to know that I still have that when I have almost nothing else. Austin, you are that man, you are the one that makes me feel special, and I love you more than anything."
Ah shit, he got me to cry. Word to the wise, never date a songwriter, or you'll be in tears so much you'll be waterlogged.
After we had hugged and cried for about five minutes, I asked Josh, "Why haven't you been telling me this all along, J? All this stuff about work, and...and the guys, you never tell me this, why? Whenever I ask, you always say everything's fine?"
"Because whenever I finally got five minutes to talk to you before I had to be on-call or recording, and you had practice or an intramural, I didn't want to waste it bitching about how hard my life was going. And if we got to talk longer...well, you always made me feel so good after talking to you that I would forget all about work and I wouldn't even think about it until I hung up."
"But Josh, you've had this all bottled up inside of you?!?...You've been telling me all along that I'm not supposed to do that!! You've been helping me get my feelings out, because I'm such an unemotional thug, and then here you are, acting just the same way!" I exclaimed, the irony settling clearly. Josh looked sheepishly back at me.
"I know...it's just, I wanted to hear your feelings more than I wanted to hear myself talk about mine. I was so wrapped up in getting you to come out of your shell, I didn't realize that I have one too."
"When I'm talking on the phone with you, it doesn't seem like you do, you've always been so open and honest with me Josh. But this past week I kind of noticed how you keep distancing yourself from the rest of the group whenever everyone is together. You keep letting Justin answer questions that I ask you. It's like...you don't think your opinion or input means anything, so you don't say it. Even when we're on the phone, you always steer the conversation away from you to me. It makes me feel like you don't trust me to be able to help you, or you don't want me to, because you think I can't," I said slowly.
Josh looked me in the eye, his face set. "That's not it. Look, part of the reason that I didn't want to tell you anything was because...I didn't really think you'd understand what I was really going through. Not because I thought you were stupid," he said quickly. "But because you're only 19 years old. Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't really know the music business like I do. I've been on stage most of my life. And...I'm really worried about what's going to happen to me and the group in the next few years. You still have your whole life ahead of you. I know that we're not going to last forever, and I never really thought about what I was going to do when the band breaks up."
"What are you talking about, the band breaking up. You guys are really popular. You're a pop icon."
"We were pop icons. Two years ago. But our sales are at an all time low. Our next tour, which starts in July, has about a dozen cities less than our last tour, and we still don't think we'll do any sell-outs. Martin Kerwin, the representative from the company that did our last video, says he thinks our band probably has only a year and a half left before we've topped out. Our contracts don't expire until 2005, but they don't think that we have enough cutting edge to make it that far. Our primary audience is now your age, and they don't want to listen to love songs and Teen Dance Pop anymore. And we're too old to appeal to the new middle schoolers now. Unless we start literally making our concerts stripshows and changing our lyrics to be as dirty and suggestive as Britney's we aren't going to make it."
"Josh..." I started to interrupt, but, like he had done to Joey a few minutes earlier, held up a hand to silence me.
"I know I'm a bit more negative than most people. Maybe I'm seeing storm clouds when there aren't any, but you just can't think that we're going to come up with another platinum record every six months, and that people are going to want to hear it."
"I've thought that we've sailed our last media storm two years ago. But then we started making headlines. Not music headlines, sensationalist news headlines. Justin and Britney. Joey and Lance tried acting for awhile. Lance said something to some reporter about wanting to be an astronaut. Then we released Celebrity, and finished our tour with Jay-Z, Nelly, and Jennifer Lopez, and suddenly we were back in the spotlight. I just...you can't trust the mass media, and I've been working so hard to prevent us from being such has-beens that, that I haven't...really...thought about me. What I'm going to be doing. All the other guys have plans for when we stop singing. They all know it won't last forever. I...I don't."
What do you say to that? I'm still stumped. I believe I just held him and said "everything's going to be ok,", but what would you have done?
Sometime later, Joey came down to the dining room. He glanced at his watch, and then plopped down next to us. I wanted to warn him, but my hands were busy, and Josh was too perceptive to be unaware that Joey was in the room.
Before Joey could even open his mouth to say anything, Josh said, "I'm perfectly fine, Joseph. I fell asleep, that's all."
"Fell asleep?" Joey said in disbelief. "Wha-?" I stopped him from saying anything else with a vigorous negative shake of my head.
He paused. "Yeah, ok Josh, whatever," he said, scratching his head. He got up off the floor, looking down at us uncertainly, then started pushing the dining room chairs back into their original places, after they had been scattered around the room following our brawl this morning with Chris.
Josh got up suddenly out of my lap, stood up and brushed himself off. A little hurt, I got up too, but Josh didn't want me to hold his hand or put my arm around his shoulder. He twisted away from my grasp, and stormed out of the room. I heard Joey's front door slam.
"What did I do?" I called after him. I glanced around and saw that Joey was watching me. He opened his mouth to say something.
"Dude, don't," I said.
"Yo," he persisted. "You guys...you guys just sort of caught us all off guard, ok?"
"Whatever, man," I said. I didn't want to hear it. Even though I thought that Josh was being just a tiny bit over-sensitive about being gay, I knew that I would have to take his side anyway. That's how it works. I turned and walked out of the room, heading for the door.
"What the fuck do you want from me?" Joey shouted angrily to my back. I ignored him and kept walking. He knew I wasn't going to answer him, but it frustrated him none the less.
The warm California breeze and the early morning were wasted in the middle of this bad episode of Dawson's Creek. I stretched and yawned, and took note of the fact that despite my best intentions, everyone insisted on being mad at everyone else for one reason or another.
Inside Josh's house, I found him sitting in a leather armchair in his living room, staring off into space, his legs curled up underneath him. I sat on the floor in front of the chair, my back against it.
I knew better than to say anything first. It took a few seconds.
"I can't believe he actually did that, just sat down next to us, just tried to act like nothing happened," Josh complained.
I didn't answer, of course. I didn't realize I was supposed to until he nudged me with his leg and said, "Well? Don't you think that's wrong?"
"Well...sort of," I mumbled. I know I was supposed to take his side, but...
"Sort of? Austin, if he's going to be treating me like some sort of stranger, and just act like nothing's going on, why can't I do the same?"
"I think you're just being a little over-sensitive, I mean you didn't even let him say anything," I said, turning around so that I could meet his eyes.
"He didn't need to. I knew exactly what he was going to say," Josh pouted.
Josh wanted an argument. I can tell when he just wants to pick a fight, and he doesn't even care if he's right or not. I also knew that I didn't really feel in the mood to disagree with him.
"You're probably right. We don't need to hear him say how happy he is for us again."
Josh missed the sarcasm. "Exactly. See? This is why we're so right for each other."
I rolled my eyes, but he caught it. Instead of getting mad though, he laughed, and slid out of the chair onto the floor next to me.
"I know I'm being a dick right now, and I'm not being fair to Joey, but I am just so sick of being the bad guy all the time..."
"I know, I know," I said, putting my arms around him and rubbing his shoulders. Josh leaned into me, and we were quiet for a while.
Josh just wanted to be treated like one of the guys instead of like an outcast, but he pushed the other guys away way more than they pushed him away. It was a catch 22. He was so afraid of being rejected by the people he cared about the most, he pushed them away by acting like their boss.
At least, that's what I thought. But I was NOT about to psychoanalyze Josh, and wind up being completely wrong. I would just see what happened.
It wasn't like Josh had no reason to be rude. He didn't want another episode like the one with Chris, so before that happened, he shut out both Joey and Lance, before he saw that they really weren't trying to hurt him at all.
When I got tired of sitting on the floor, I told Josh I wanted to go back to sleep. We had only had a few hours of sleep last night, and this horrible morning. I didn't want him to go to his rehearsal in a cranky mood. Well, crankier than usual.
He suggested we lie down on his couch, but of course, Josh lying right next to me on the couch made it...er, let's just say very uncomfortable to sleep. It was probably even harder for Josh, no pun intended, with my erection sticking into his back. And the coffee Justin had given us prevented me from closing my eyes all the way. Instead, I found Josh's neck very appetizing and began biting it.
"Austin, stop. Remember what happened this morning," Josh said lazily, although not really fighting me. I so wanted to pretend this morning had never happened, and sex was such a good distraction.
I started licking his earlobe. "Can't hear you, babe," I whispered, and he shivered at my touch. My hands found the bottom of his T-shirt.
We both sat up and found each other's mouths, trying to relive what Justin had interrupted earlier. I tried to pull Josh's shirt off, but I also wasn't willing to let go of his tongue, so it just sort of stayed there, ridden up to his neck. As if right on cue, we heard the front door open. I quickly tried to push josh out of my lap, but his leg had ended up underneath my knee, so that we both could do nothing but look at the doorway and squint into the bright sunlight that filled the foyer.
"Hey, Austin. You know what we need? A good work out to get rid of all this tension," called Justin's voice, as he strolled in Josh's front door. He caught sight of us on the couch, and paused. I scowled at him. God damn, Timberlake has the worst timing in the world.
"Oh hey Josh," said Justin, looking surprised. Josh quickly pulled down his shirt. "So, a work out, sound good?" he said after a second. I was kind of expecting him to make some comment about Josh and my predicament, but he was embarrassed too.
"Actually, I think I need to go back to bed," said Josh, scrambling to get out of my lap, unsuccessfully.
For some reason, Justin brightened.
"Yeah, we'll see you at rehearsal," I chimed in.
"Come on, you guys, if you go to bed now, you'll never wake up by ten," protested Justin, that split second of excitement he had had vanished, replaced with a look of visible disappointment.
"Who says we'll be sleeping?" said Josh suggestively, breaking his gaze to look at me. I smiled, then glanced up at Justin, who looked a little hurt. At first I thought he was totally pretending, you know just fucking around, but he really seriously looked hurt.
"Uh, ok, well, I guess I'll go then," he said hollowly. His initial cheerful attitude seemed to have vanished.
My emotional antennae went up. What was wrong with Just? Did seeing us just remind him of how bad his love-life was?
Josh's emotional antennae are always up, and he easily picked up on Justin's dejected attitude.
"Hey wait Justin, we were just kidding, we'll go to the gym with you, wait up," he said, finally springing up out of my lap and pulling me by my hand over to the entry way. Justin had left the door open, and sunlight was streaming through, birds singing in the new morning.
"Really?" Justin answered hesitantly, looking at me. "Both...I mean really?"
"Sure, I haven't been to the gym in almost two weeks," I replied. "Let's check one out."
"I'll go get my stuff," said Josh, as he turned and ran upstairs.
"Uh, heh heh, ok," Justin sort of answered awkwardly. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he wouldn't look me in the eye.
"Justin...," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You ok?"
He glanced at my hand on his shoulder, and I let go of him. Something was definitely wrong.
"I'm fine, bro," he answered, then turned and walked outside into the sun.
Strange morning, I thought to myself. Taking a cure from Josh, I trotted back upstairs and found something suitable to wear: a sleeveless white T-shirt and a pair of trainers. I know Josh had wanted me to wear his outfit, but I didn't want to ruin it, sweating in the gym. I decided to put it on a hanger and when we got back to the house I'd put it back on. No big deal, right?
I grabbed my smallest bag, threw in a comb, some deodorant and a towel, and, as an afterthought, tossed in my Japanese textbook. Maybe I could study my vocab on a tread. It was already Wednesday, and I had hardly done any of my homework. Well sorry, but who could concentrate with all this crap going around?
Downstairs, Josh had changed into a white beater that perfectly showed off his thin athletic body and long blue nylon Nike basketball shorts, that perfectly complimented his thick, athletic calves. I nearly dropped my bag looking at him.
Josh reciprocated the reaction, and looked me up and down appreciatively, although I was far less flattering in an oversized sleeveless Ky Beta Tau T-shirt.
"Ready to go?" Justin said, snapping me out of a fantasy I was having, involving me throwing Josh against the wall and licking his entire body.
I blinked at him for a second, because I had forgotten that he was standing there. Justin was still wearing what he had on earlier, a black sleeveless T-shirt and those dark blue jeans that have the thighs purposely faded. What are they called?
"Yeah, sure," I answered, my eyes reverting back to Josh. Josh had a similar lustful look in his eyes. His eyes hadn't left me. It was so cool knowing exactly what he was thinking.
While Justin trooped out the door ahead of us, we wasted no time plastering our lips together. I roughly grabbed Josh's waist and slammed him against me, as I felt his arms circle my neck. He choked me with his tongue, and I felt his hands massage the muscles of my shoulders, tracing their way down my back...
We couldn't get any further than that. We stopped for breath and saw Justin watching us, uncertainty in his eyes. I blushed, and josh nuzzled his head against my neck, my arms still locked around his waist. Justin abruptly turned away, and headed for the parking garage. Josh and I followed him, our arms still holding onto each other, completely and blissfully unaware.
While Justin unlocked the garage door, I grabbed Josh's head in a headlock, and we wrestled our tongues together.
Justin, oblivious, walked in and turned on the lights, then I heard him take a quick gasp. Josh and I both quit our game of tongue tag and followed him into the garage.
"No wait, don't come in," Justin said quickly, but it was too late. We had seen.
Josh's car was totally wrecked. The driver's side door and the hood had been brutally dented in, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to the Jag. The windshield had been smashed, broken safety glass littering the dash and crumpled hood, and the white leather interior and the turned down hood had been viciously slashed and ripped. The side mirrors were broken off and dangling against the sides. The tires had been slashed, and the rich emerald green finish had been severely scratched; it looked like it had been done by a garden tool. Someone had daubed "Pussy Fag" in white dripping letters on the concrete behind the car.
The three of us looked at it in shock, no doubt in our minds as to who had done it. Josh dropped the sports bag that he had been carrying.
"You know what, I really don't feel like going to the gym today," he said, in a high, funny voice that I knew meant he was on the verge of tears. He tore out of my grasp and ran back to the condo, me hot on his heels.
Josh ran all the way back to the apartment, burst in, ran upstairs, and slammed his bedroom door in my face. I heard the click of the lock.
I immediately hammered at the door. "Josh open this door right now." Justin thundered up the stairs just then, a few seconds late, and he ran over and hammered on the door as well.
"JC, that fucking little weasel is going to pay, ok?" he snarled, trying the doorknob, even though we both knew it was locked.
"JC?" Knock knock knock. "JC don't do this to us, you can't lock us out."
"J? We talked about this, remember, you're not supposed to keep things bottled up, now open this door and talk to me." Knock knock knock.
"Go away!" Josh shouted, sounding like he was in bed, under the covers.
"Josh, running away and hiding from your problems is a very bad idea. You should know, you were the one who used to tell ME that!!" Justin yelled.
"You told me the same thing, Josh. You told me that I needed to let other people know that I need them, even if I think that I don't! Right now you need to talk to me about this!" I shouted.
"And me!" chimed in Justin. I looked at him. His face was right next to mine, I didn't even realize, but he had the same worried, but determined expression on his face that I'm sure was mirrored in mine.
"Especially after what happened earlier!" I added.
"Go away," Josh shouted again, but this time much softer, with much less conviction.
"Josh don't make me bust down this door," I threatened, twisting the knob so hard my hand hurt.
"I'm going to kill that mother fucker. Why would he do something so insane, so...," Justin grumbled, slamming his fist against the door in anger.
"Josh!" I hammered on the door so hard it rattled in its hinges. "Josh open this door and talk to me. Am I not important enough to you? Huh? We talked about this, don't I deserve to be in there with you right now?"
"Listen to the man, Josh. Open this door and everything will be ok."
I listened. Silence.
"Josh?" I said again.
"Austin?" I heard Josh answer faintly and emotionally.
"I'm right here, buddy, are you going to open the door?"
"I need to be alone. I'm not pushing you out...I just need to be alone. Go to the gym with Justin. You need to stay in shape for baseball."
"I'm not going anywhere until you open this door!" I insisted, jiggling the knob.
Josh stayed quiet.
"Josh? Do you hear me? Now open this door right now!!" I shouted.
"Maybe we should leave him alone," Justin said. I turned to him, exasperated.
"What?!?" I hissed at him. He was supposed to be helping me get Josh to open the door, and now here he was, giving up already?!?
"Josh sometimes needs time to think. He's just one of those people that needs time, and I know that he isn't going to come out of there for a while," he said, pulling on my arm to get me away from the door.
I pulled my arm out of his grasp easily. Hammering on the door again, I said, "Josh I am going to give you to the count of three before you have to call in your contractor! Do you hear me?!?"
Justin sighed, and Josh stayed quiet.
"Josh? I'm counting. One..."
"You're wasting your time..." Justin said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall next to the door.
"Two..."
"I thought you guys knew each other better than this. You should know that Josh deals with stuff in his own way. Obviously, someone doesn't know his partner as well as he thinks he does."
Wanting to slap the superior smirk off Justin's face, I kicked the door in anger.
"So what...I'm just supposed to leave him in there, locked up in his own little world? I'm not letting him shut down emotionally again, like he did this morning."
"He's not going to shut down. If anything, he writes his best songs when he's locked in his room." Justin stared me down, challenging me. Our eyes locked for a few minutes, as I furiously tried to decide what to do. Justin wasn't going to help me, so...
"How do you know he's not going to break down? He needs help!" I retorted angrily. I began cracking my knuckles in frustration.
"Look, I didn't really know how to help him before, when he was acting all weird in the dining room, but I know what to do now, because I've done this before. We know when to give him his space, and let him become all antisocial. Its what he does. It's not that he doesn't still love you, it's just that he needs some space. Can't you respect him enough to give him that much?"
What he said made a lot of sense, I guess, if this were an isolated incident. But because we still hadn't really gotten past what happened this morning, just ignored it for an hour, I didn't feel comfortable leaving Josh like this. By himself. He needed someone to talk to. And if it couldn't be me...maybe someone else. But he shouldn't be by himself. That's a given. How did I know this? I don't know...common sense. When you have a problem, you talk about, you deal with it. You don't push it all away and lock yourself away from the world.
"Josh?" I said, quieter than I had a few moments ago. I had to see what he thought.
I saw Justin glance at his watch, which ticked me off. Maybe he hadn't really gotten to see Josh all huddled up in that chair, and hadn't seen his empty, expressionless, soulless face. Then again...maybe I was worrying all over nothing.
Joey too hadn't seemed to think anything was out of the ordinary. Josh had rudely cut him off, and he had just accepted it, just like that. Was that what I was supposed to do?
I weighed my options. I could sit outside josh's door until he felt like talking to me about his feelings, which would probably take a while. Or, I could try and convince Josh to get some professional help, but that would be like trying to win the NCAA Western Division final conference, and the Pac-10 finals in the same year.
Third option, let the people who know Josh the best handle it. His friends. I didn't like leaving Josh like this, but I would get out of the way for a while if it was the only way that Josh could finally get some emotional stability. I didn't like it, but I guess there was no other way. Justin seemed positive that giving Josh some space was the best way of handling the situation, and he has known Josh for years.
I didn't want to panic. What had really happened this morning? Josh just shut out everything that was happening, and concentrated on something else, so hard that he forgot we were all there. Then he had recovered, and had seemed fine, after getting a bunch of stuff off his chest. Up until we saw his car, I had the old josh again. Now, barely an hour after Chris's stupid little lynching speech, Josh was hiding out again. I knew from my own experience with psychology that this was called a defense mechanism. Josh pushed his problems away and then later forgot about them, or pretended they didn't happen so that he could have some stability. I also knew that it wasn't healthy.
But what could I do? Josh called back from behind the door: "I want to work on some songs right now. It's about hate. Don't come back until you've been to the gym," he said.
"But Josh..."
"Don't but me. I'm full of anger and rage right now, and I'm not going to waste it yelling at you. I need it for this song. Now get the hell out of here!"
I gaped open mouthed at Justin, who was positively beaming, obviously pleased with himself for being right, and that we needed to leave.
"Justin, take him out of here," Josh shouted. Then, suddenly, loud music burst from Josh's room; loud annoying pop music.
"No prob, buddy. C'mon Austin. You said yourself we needed to get away from all this drama." Justin, said, putting his hand on my back and literally pushing me away from the door.
"This isn't over, Joshua! We are going to talk about this as soon as I get back!!" I screamed over the music. If Josh heard me, he didn't react.
I descended the stairs slowly, barely conscious of Justin's hand still clasped to my shoulder, as I furiously tried to decide what to do next.
Josh needed help. His insecurities about being gay, his irrational fears about how the world is treating him, his inability to handle criticism and ridicule, and his authoritarian attitude and possessive nature all stemmed from the same problem. What that problem was, I didn't know, and I needed someone with a ph.D in psychology to help me figure it out.
Josh wasn't crazy, but he had a lot of issues to deal with, and I didn't want our relationship to suffer because of it. I'm a pretty flexible person, but even I have my limits, and the tensions in our relationship we had been having lately were a byproduct of Josh's fears and inability to deal with certain situations.
So leaving Josh by himself was a very stupid idea. It wasn't solving the problem, it was simply dismissing it as part of Josh's personality, which it wasn't.
I didn't realize this until Justin was pulling on my arm to get out of his Bentley, which was now parked in front of a ritzy gym and spa. I hadn't even realized that we had left yet. He had parked this car outside the parking garage, so that we wouldn't have to go back in there, and it was just as nice as his other car. I had vaguely heard Justin chattering away to me on the ride, and I remembered getting in the car, but the rest was a blur.
"We're here already?" I said, looking up at the white plastic-looking building.
"Yep, this is like the most exclusive club you can belong to. A lot of famous people use the trainers that the club recruits," said Justin, popping his trunk and pulling out a red Tommy sports bag. Justin had apparently already packed to go, even though I hadn't seen him.
The front of the spa featured a large, landscaped shallow pool of water edged in stonework, surrounded by gingko trees and ferns. It was full of lily pads and lotus flowers, and had a distinct Eastern feel to it. Thin wooden bridges crossed the pool at intervals, giving the area a very tranquil, naturalistic feel, even though we were in the middle of the desert.
I followed Justin, who, as usual completely ignored the surroundings, as if he had been here a million times before, and we walked into the main lobby, which was painted almost pure white. A long, low white counter stretched across the back wall, which was entirely made of glass, and a beautiful back garden in the same Oriental landscaping was visible. The only other thing in the two story lobby was a humongous splashing waterfall that completely covered the right wall, which appeared to be made out of some sort of stone. The water splashed off several rock outcroppings in the wall, and was a very soothing sound.
Behind the counter sat an absolutely gorgeous woman. Dressed all in white (That seemed to be the theme), her honey blonde hair was relatively short, to about her chin, one strand in a thin braid dangling stylishly over her left eye, the rest of it loose. A model's face, with high cheekbones, beautiful full lips and big captivating brown eyes topped a body any girl would kill for. Her skin was so darkly tanned it perfectly accentuated the white of her clothes, which consisted of a very tight pair of tennis shorts and a white polo that looked like it had been painted on her very voluptuous chest. As my eyes traveled southward, I saw the longest most magnificently supple legs you can find, with a gold anklet on her right foot, and those same white tennis shoe-slip on things that Lisa wore that one day.
My tongue pretty much dropped out of my mouth. And, I actually thought I saw her eyes briefly check me out, but she quickly confirmed her dissatisfaction by thrusting her nose into the air and adopting a cool, aloof expression I recognized all too well.
The girl stood up, and walked around the counter, where she stood right in front of us, her feet spread apart, and her hands on her hips. "Welcome back to Tranquility," she said in a soft, dreamy voice, her eyes repositioning themselves on Justin. She gave him the full once-over, with an appreciative smile, and I felt a twinge of jealousy. What the hell? I was a lot better built than Justin.
"It's been a while since we've seen you, Mr. Timberlake, but you seem to be just as physically fit as when I last saw you," she said, and I rolled my eyes.
"Yes, I know. I've been working with my own trainer for a while. But I brought my friend here to show him some of the perks of being me," said Josh, his attitude suddenly changing from decent person to his old stuck-up celebrity persona that I totally despised.
"Very well," the girl answered. She snapped her ankles together and put her hands behind her back. "What can we interest you...and your...er...friend, to this morning?"
"I thought we would start with a little massage?" Justin said glancing at me. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that ok with you?"
"I thought we were going to a gym...you know, to work out...not to sit around with cucumbers on our eyes and get massages," I said.
The girl looked expressionless, but I saw her roll her eyes. She and Justin exchanged a knowing glance.
"Well, perhaps we can arrange one later, then," he said, nodding to the girl. She nodded back.
"If you want to go directly to the weight room, I'm afraid Augustine has fallen ill today. We have a new trainer. He's relatively young, but I think he'll be adequate, Mr. Timberlake," said the girl, again addressing Justin and refusing to even glance at me. Thank goodness she had those killer looks. What a snob.
"That will be fine. Thank you, Nicolette."
Nicolette nodded again with her hands behind her back, and retreated to her position behind the counter.
Justin gestured with his hand for me to follow him, and I was very hesitant to comply. What sort of freakshow had Justin brought me to?
He walked down the left hallway, down a windowed corridor, and I saw on the right hand side a Zen garden, which is basically a large field of nothing but crushed stone.
We walked to the end of the hall, where we were greeted by a young guy, barely a few years older than us, who was just as strikingly gorgeous as Nicolette, for a guy. He had the chiseled good looks of a model, with a square jaw, high, defined cheekbones and a completely perfect face, with curly blond hair, cut very short and neat. His small white uniform polo strained against his obviously well-defined body, tucked neatly into tight white pants that were practically painted onto his thick, athletic legs. The short sleeved polo revealed well muscled biceps, and strong forearms. This guy was quite a hunk. When he saw Justin, he smiled, showing off two even rows of brilliantly white teeth.
I felt like Homer Simpson next to him. I glanced down at what I had chosen to wear, and realized I practically looked homeless. My T-shirt was one I had gotten at a rush party freshman year, and was so worn out, it looked like I had had it since childhood. The Greek letters had faded away, and the seams where I had cut off the sleeves were frayed. I only wear it to work out in. My training pants were old, and they made my legs look like shapeless black columns, with a vertical stripe along the sides.
The guy said, "Welcome back, Mr. Timberlake. We were afraid you had found someone else." He ignored me just like the girl did, but he didn't compliment Justin like she did, or check him out. Obviously he wasn't gay...no guy that good looking could possibly be gay.
"Well, I needed a quick warm up before today's rehearsal, and I thought I would show my friend Austin around," he said, as he lazily handed him his sports bag. The guy gave me the same stoic snob look that Nicollette had given me, obviously expecting something, and, missing the cue by a few seconds, I realized that he wanted my bag. I handed it to him, and he sighed, then turned and walked down the hall in front of us.
Justin let out a low whistle, and licked his lips, giving me a conspiratorial wink.
"What?" I said, missing the joke.
"That guy's name is Chet. He's one of the main reasons I keep coming here, because the rates are ridiculous for what you get."
"Oh, is he like a personal trainer?" I said. Justin looked at me funny.
"No, he's like an equipment person," he said.
"But you just said he's one of the reasons you keep coming here. Does he train with you or something?" I said.
"No, he doesn't do anything," He narrowed his eyes at me, as if I were retarded.
"Huh? Then why is he the reason you keep coming here?" I dared to ask.
Justin looked to the ceiling for help. "Because he's fucking hot, that's why."
"Ohhhh...," I said.
"God, Austin, you are so dumb sometimes. Cute but dumb." That last part was under his breath.
"What?" I said.
"Nothing."
"Are you ready, er...uh...Mr. Timberlake?" said a voice behind us. We both turned around. Another hunk in a matching white uniform stood before us. But instead of the cool detached attitude of Nicollete and Chet, this guy looked like he was tripping all over himself, obviously star-struck. This must be the new guy Nicollette referred us to.
He kept wringing his hands, and his eyes were as wide as saucers. I was of course, completely ignored. To his credit, the guy was very good looking. He had a dark olive complexion, with a well-built body and a chiseled jock facewith long, wavy jet black hair that was in that stylish, disorganized way everyone wears on TV.
He kept stuttering, but Justin took it in stride, and even signed something for him. Justin said he wanted to lift some weights, and the guy led us over to a room that he had to unlock with a keycard, that was full of obviously very expensive machines.
After more stuttering, Justin finally got him to leave by handing him a huge wad of bills. Then he turned to me and said, "I'm going to go change. GO ahead and do whatever and I'll catch up," he said.
And he left. I whipped out my cell phone and hit speed dial #1. It usually rings four times before Josh's voice mail service comes on, and it wasn't until halfway through the fourth ring that Josh answered.
"How did I know you would call?" he said before I could say anything.
"Well, what, did you actually expect me to forget about my boyfriend, alone and hurt, and just go off and play?" I answered sarcastically.
"I know. But I told you. I'm fine. I'm talking to Lance and Joey right now."
"You are?" I blinked in surprise. Josh made it clear that he wanted to have some time to himself. And...here he was, completely changing his mind, and talking to Joey and lance.
"Well...they took a cue from you and took the door off the hinges."
"I'm coming home right now, as soon as I find Justin," I said, quickly walking over to the door.
"Ok. I'm sorry I pushed you away like that. We really need to talk, and it has to be face to face." No shit sherlock.
"I know. We all need to talk. No more pretending that this all has to do with stress about the concert, we need to get it all out. We'll feel a lot better."
"I love you so much."
I smiled. "Not as much as me. I'll see you in a half an hour, tops."
"K. Later sexy."
"Bye," I said, clicking off my phone. Relieved that Lance and Joey had done what I couldn't do, and glad that it seemed everything would be back to normal soon, I put everything back in my bag and waited for Justin. He came back in the room wearing a very revealing baby blue tank top and red and dark blue basketball shorts. He had a red headband tied around his head.
"Ok, we have to go back." I said.
"What?" Justin said, completely bewildered.
"Josh finally admitted that we need to talk, all of us, you included, and that we are going to stop pretending that this is all because of that stupid concert on Saturday. Joey and Lance somehow reasoned with him."
I didn't wait for an answer, and headed out into the hall where Chet had taken our bags, and found him standing there like a British soldier.
"We want our stuff back," I said. He smirked at me, then completely ignored me and looked at Justin.
"Austin, no, we're not leaving. We didn't even do anything yet!"
"So? Josh wants us all to have another meeting right now, as soon as we can get back."
"Right now? But I just barely got changed." Justin pouted.
"Then change back. Yo, get our bags," I said again to Chet. He didn't move, the prick.
"I wanted to work out this morning. Can't we have the meeting later?"
"The one you had this morning sucked balls because all you did was act like nothing was happening. This time, we're going to get it all out in the open. Well, what the fuck are you still standing there for, dicklick, go get our bags!" I said to Chet. He frowned and narrowed his eyes at me.
"Wait a second, Chet." Justin countered.
"Justin, what are you doing? Don't you want everything to go smooth for you guys?"
"Yes, but..."
"And how is everything going to go smoothly unless we all band together against that asshole Chris? Let's just get it all over with now. You can come back and drool all over that blonde on your own time." Only Justin knew which blonde I was referring to.
"Austin...," Justin said with a warning glance. I smiled back at him.
"Yes Justin?" I smirked. He looked worried that I might slip that he was gay in front of the hot equipment manager.
"It's also important to stay in shape before a rehearsal. I always work out before every rehearsal. If we go home now, I won't be ready."
"You can come back. But I need to get back, because I want what's best for you guys."
"The studio is thirty minutes away! If I left now, took you back to the condo, it would already be nine o'clock by the time I got back. I'm supposed to be onstage at nine thirty to get my costume and makeup done, so I would have to leave almost as soon as I got here!"
"Can't you work out at the studio? Don't you have a gym there? Why do you have to go here?"
"Because I have a membership here, that's why. I can trust these people."
I considered this. "Do you HAVE to work out before the rehearsal?" I asked hesitantly. Justin eyes bugged out. "No shit, you idiot. Do you think it's easy to pull the moves we make?"
Annoyed, I replied, "I could fucking care less about your stupid moves right now. Why do you have to be so god damn selfish Justin? You can't even go one rehearsal without working out so that you can help out Josh. That's low, man."
"Josh is fine! Did he sound psycho to you on the phone?"
"Don't call him psycho!" I yelled.
"You know what I mean," Justin said angrily. "He sounded fine, right? Just wanted you to come back, right? Did he say I have to go?"
"Well no...but he said I do, and since you're my ride, you have to, too.
"Call him and tell him that you can have the talk after the rehearsal."
"Why?"
"Because, I don't have time to drive you back!"
"Call one of your bodyguards then, you selfish asshole. I'll wait outside. Are you going to give me my bag or do I have to go in your little secret holding room and take it?" I said to Chet, who had been listening amusedly to our whole conversation.
"Certainly...sir," he said, the sir very sarcastic and nasty.
As he turned around and headed for the equipment place or whatever, Justin had a change of heart.
"Wait, Austin. Look, I'm sorry. I do want to help Josh, its just I also wanted to spend some time with you."
"Huh?"
"Last night...it meant a lot to me, and well...I was sort of hoping that we could go a day without fighting with each other and actually act like friends." Hump. I guess I couldn't be too mad at him.
"Well, you need to learn to tone that snobby attitude down a notch."
Justin smiled. "I know. It's kind of...my way of fitting in over here. Everyone's a snob in the hills, you just have to do it too or they treat you like shit."
"No kidding. The way that Chet guy looks at me, I thought I had grown another head or something," I agreed, glancing back down the hall to see if he was coming back.
Justin laughed. "Yeah, but he has quite an ass, right?"
I laughed. "I refuse to say, dude. I have a boyfriend."
Justin smiled thoughtfully. "Look... ...can you try and call Josh and tell him to have the meeting later? It's not that I want to work out. I wanted to work out with you, you know, like a buddy."
I sighed, considering it. "I have an idea, how bout you tell him?" I said, not about to get into another argument with Josh this morning if I could help it.
"Fine," he said, pulling out his own cell phone and ringing Josh.
Chet came back with my bag, and he dropped it rudely on the floor next to me.
"Pick that shit back up, unless you want my friend here to ok your dismissal," I said.
"I'd do what he says, man," Justin chimed in, as he waited for Josh to pick up. Suddenly I had an idea. Maybe we could toy with him a little, using Justin's celebrity status, as revenge for him being such a little bitch.
The asshole scowled, his hands tightening into fists.
"Today, loser! Do you have any idea who I am?" Total bluff.
Suddenly, the guy stopped scowling, and his eyes widened, his jaw dropping. He looked visibly perplexed, possibly wondering if maybe I was somebody famous, or maybe someone famous's son. For all he knew I could have been. I mean, I obviously knew famous people, I was standing here with Justin Timberlake.
"You don't know who your messing with..." Justin said in a sing song voice, catching on to my game. His eyes told a different story, as they were kind of blatantly staring at Chet's body. I would have to warn him about that. If he wasn't careful, he'd get caught.
"I...well, of course I know who you are," Chet backtracked. I grinned. "Didn't recognize me? I should blackball your ass, who's your supervisor?"
"No, no, wait!" the jerk suddenly said, panicking, losing his cool. This was fun!
"Then what do you say?" I teased, enjoying this little authoritarian thing.
"I'm sorry sir, here's your bag," he said, dropping down and grabbing it. Justin got a great view of him bending over, and he flashed me the thumbs up. Chet handed me my bag, and I snatched it out of his hand,
"Alright, now get the fuck out of here." I said. Chet glanced at Justin, who put on a stone serious face, and he fled back out of the hallway.
Justin and I giggled and laughed as he left until tears fell from our eyes.
"Oh my god, that was so much fun, you should have seen his face!" Justin huffed out.
"He actually believed me! You could tell he was thinking oh shit...who is he?"
"Oh man, you ought to be an actor, that was hilarious!"
"You know, when we're not fighting, we're actually a good team," I said, throwing my arm around his shoulders. Justin stiffened a little, but relaxed soon after.
We laughed a little while longer, then I realized that Justin still hadn't called Josh yet.
"Dude, why didn't you call Josh?"
"I was having too much fun seeing you fuck with that guy," he answered. "I'll call him right now."
Justin dialed the number, then waited for him to answer. I realized my arm was still around his shoulders, so I pulled off.
"Josh? Yeah, we're kind of in the middle of a work out right now. I know you wanted Austin to come home and talk, but I'm not going to be able to drive him all the way down there and make it in time for rehearsal, so..."
"He's... ...in the pool right now. Yeah, well I also thought you wanted your space or whatever, right?... ... ...well, you know Tranquility. Once you check in they expect you to stay. Yeah, that's where we went, its kind of far...But don't worry. We'll be back by nine fifteen, and then we can talk, or we could all go out to lunch after rehearsal and talk then? Sound good?...ok, I'll tell him. Bye."
Justin flipped the phone back.
"Why did you lie and say I was in the pool?"
"He wanted to know why you didn't call him. What was I supposed to say, that you didn't want him to get all upset again and freak out because you said no?"
"That's not why I wanted you to call him."
"Then why did you want me to do it?"
"Because...Josh was kind of mad at me for practically spending the night at your house last night without telling him, and he still thinks it's a little weird that we're trying to be friends. I didn't want to make think I was abandoning him, so if I let you make the call, he gets mad at you and not me."
"Bastard," said Justin. "Alright then, let's hit the weights, huh?"
So Justin and I worked out for a while, and talked and joked. We had a kind of easy camaraderie that reminded me of what I had with my friends back home. He was actually a pretty cool guy, and now that we knew each other's personal stuff, we sort of flowed into a natural, easy friendship.
As a spotter, Justin spotted a little more than was necessary. I kept noticing him give me these looks, and as I was getting off the bench press, his hands sort of stayed on mine long after he had placed the bar back. I didn't think he was attracted to me, I think he just sort of...wanted a relationship with someone. He needed a girlfriend, or a boyfriend. I decided that before I left, I would try and hook him up with someone.
We finished our reps at around eight forty five, so we still had forty five minutes to kill before we had to back at the studio. Justin wanted to get a massage, but the masseuse was a dude, so I said no way. Instead, we stopped at a mall on our way back to the condo. Justin wanted to grab something to eat, and I wanted to get some souvenirs for my dad. I was only going to be in LA for another day before I was heading off to Mexico, and I wanted some proof that I'd been here, besides the pictures of Josh that I had taken and the Disneyland ticket stub.
Most of the stores were closed that early in the morning. Only like three stores, and the Banana Republic and a Starbucks was open, both of them right next to this huge thing called the Galleria, which was a two-story arcade and amusement park in the mall. Since it was Spring Break here in Cali, the place was swarming with teenagers, even this early in the morning.
We passed up Starbucks, because Justin had already had enough coffee and doughnuts this morning, and we just headed over to the other stores that were open, a tacky California wear shop, a jewelry store, and a department store I didn't recognize. Something called Mervyn's.
I can't stand to shop, and I didn't really know how to buy for people. Especially my dad. Every Christmas and Father's Day, I get him the same dumb ass things. Last year, for his birthday, I got tickets to a Seahawks game. The year before that, I got him an Elvis Costello CD, his favorite singer. So creative, I know.
But today, I actually found something interesting in sporting goods. One of those Boggle Head dolls of some Dodgers player I'd never heard of. I bought it anyway, since it was all I could find in my price range, and at least had something to do with baseball, so maybe my dad would like it.
Justin didn't seem to like shopping much either, but it might have been because we were in a "regular mall" with "regular stores" that didn't cost $1,000 for a T-shirt. He bought a couple things anyway though.
While we were in the store however, I was looking at this sweater I thought might look good on Josh when I heard somebody yell, "oh my god, its Justin Timberlake!!!" And I had no idea where I had left Justin.
I heard a bunch of girls shouting and yelling, then loud thuds of racks and mannequins being knocked over, and I sprinted over to the main floor, where I saw two dozen or so girls all piled on top of each other.
"Get the fuck off!" I howled, as I grabbed two thirteen year old girls by their wrists and threw them away. "Get off!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs. "That's not Justin Timberlake!" I said as loud as I could. The girls, about twenty of them, stopped yelling and got up off of Justin, looking confused.
"It isn't?" one of them said.
"No, that is my friend, what the hell are you doing to him?!?" I said, pushing my way through the crowd.
The surrounding girls hadn't really seen him, and they believed me and back off. There were still a couple little twinks still latched onto him on the ground, and I roughly yanked them off, squealing, and told them to get the fuck out of there.
Some of them tried to pull an attitude, like thirteen year old girls do, but they looked at me and thought better of it. They left, still glancing back at the guy who really looked like Justin Timberlake.
I offered my hand to help Justin get to his feet, and he tried, but fell back to the ground in pain, clutching his ankle.
"Oh, fuck!!!" he yelled. I glanced around and saw store security sprinting over towards us.
"What's wrong?" I said.
"My ankle, fuck it feels like someone shattered it!" he howled, his face stretched in a painful grimace.
"Can you walk?" said one of the security guys who had rushed over. He helped Justin sit up.
The others set up the two racks of clothes the girls had knocked over, and started talking into their walkie talkies.
"I don't know..." groaned Justin, still full of pain.
My eyes wide with worry, I helped him to his feet, and he leaned all of his weight on me as he tried to move his foot.
"I can walk on it, but it hurts when I bend it," he said after testing it.
"It's probably been sprained," said the security guard.
"We need to call an ambulance," I said, reaching for my cell.
"NO!!" Justin screamed so loud, everyone stopped talking.
"We don't need an ambulance, Austin," he said.
"Why not, you look really hurt!" I said.
"It's just a sprain," he said, walking a step to prove he was fine, but wincing in result.
"You don't know that. You're no doctor. We have to go to the hospital..."
"NO, no goddamn hospital!!" Justin yelled again.
"Why not?!?"
"Because...what are we going to tell everyone? We were at a public mall in the Valley without a disguise or a body guard? They'll kill me!"
"You'll kill yourself if you think you can go through rehearsal on a sprained ankle. And you're supposed to be there in ten minutes!" I said, glancing at my watch.
"I'll go after rehearsal." Justin said lamely.
"Are you nuts?!"
"No, but I'm sane enough not to go tell my manager that I was in public without a body guard."
"So you forgot, it's not your fault, but we have to get this checked out."
"I can't just cancel rehearsal Austin. Do you know how much we have been preparing for this? Do you have any idea how much money the company is pouring into this MTV thing?"
I was silent. I didn't know.
"A lot. And I am not going to cancel it all because of one lousy ankle. Now come on, let's get back to the car."
And with that, he half walked, half stumbled out of the store.
I talked to the store manager and security personnel for a minute, then followed him out to the car. We were going to be late.
"You drive," he said, handing me the keys.
I was too worried about Justin to even realize that I was driving one of the nicest cars I had ever seen, and it took me a long time to find out where the studio was, but we made it there by 9:40. Justin flashed his badge to the security guard in the booth, and we parked over to the side. I could see Lance and Joey cross the parking lot, aiming for us, both of them looking furious.
"Ok, now I want you to promise me this Austin. No matter what, nothing happened. If they ask, we only went to the gym, that's it," Justin said.
"What? Justin..."
"We only went to the gym." He repeated, before Joey and Lance reached us and began yelling.
To be continued...
This chapter I am officially calling "JC's story", where I reveal JC's personality more than anything else. I've done this before, just like how the beginning of chapter 12 was a little bit of "Lisa's story", and chapter 15 of course 'justin's story'. Any comments can be sent to scottiescot@hotmail.com.