Why? Part 6
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.
Mmmm . . . Am I awake or asleep? I guess if I can ask the question I must be awake. Mmmm . . . Oh . . . ugh. Almost had a minute of okay there. Almost felt good. Almost forgot. Almost forgot . . . Josh. Life. Misery.
Am I depressed? Is this what that means? Does it matter? A moment of feeling good . . . I miss those moments. Why can't I have them back? Will I? If Josh looks at me? If he smiles at me? If he tells me he loves me--even if it's not the way I want him to mean it?
Guess I'm pretty easy if that's all it takes. And that is all it takes. God I'm a mess. I hate being so fragile. Josh smiles--I'm happy. Josh is gone--I'm sad. Josh loves someone else--I want to die.
I have to get hold of myself. Have to do something. Have to call someone. Something. Something. Lance. Lance said friends can share pain. I just wish I didn't feel so guilty about not being there for him. But I will be. I promise you, Lance, I'll be there for you next time or whenever you need me. I promise. I want to help anyone who feels like this. No one should ever feel like this.
[BANG BANG BANG BANG]
Guess the day is starting. Am I already late for someplace? I don't even know.
"JUSTIN! GET UP!"
There he is. Is he my angel or my devil? Is he here to save my life or finish me off? Do I have a choice? No. If he wants to do something will I say no? No. Whatever he'll throw me, I'll take. At least today. Hiding from him does no good. I might as well get a dose of him. At least while I'm there, it's good. Or better. This must be what heroin is like.
"JUSTIN!"
"YEAH, COMING. . . . Hey."
"Hey. Come on, we don't have to be anywhere till late afternoon. Let's get out of here."
"Um, okay. Where we going?"
"Not sure yet--but out of here."
"What do I wear?"
"Just throw on some jeans or something."
"I need to shower."
"You showered after the show last night. Just put something on and come on. No one is going to be smelling you." No . . . no one will be that close to me, will HE?
"Okay--give me a minute okay?"
"What? Modest all of a sudden? Like I've not seen you in your boxers?" And never cared once about it either, did you?
Jeans. T-shirt. Hooded thing. Sneakers. What? Is he staring at me? Why doesn't he watch TV or something?
"Want to turn on the TV?"
"We're out of here in a minute, right?"
"Yeah. Gotta brush my teeth."
Closed door. Out of sight. A minute to try and get hold of myself. Can I do this? Do I want to do this? Guess if it gets too bad I can always get away and come back here.
"All set?"
"Yeah--still feel kind of grungy."
"That's okay--you do grungy well." Thanks, glad you noticed.
"So really, where we going?"
"Rented a car. Thought we'd just drive out in the country. There are these little towns with shops and restaurants and just countryside that's really pretty. You know--quaint and quiet and stuff." Trapped in a car with Josh, visiting precious little villages. It's either heaven or hell. Please God, make it heaven just once more. Just once more that I can remember what it was like to feel so good with him. So comfortable. So . . . loved. "Where you going? Bathroom again? You feeling okay?"
Got that door closed just in time. Jeez Justin--don't start crying in front of him. You have to hold it together. Glasses-- get some glasses on before going back out there.
"What was that about?"
"Forgot my glasses."
"You went diving for the bathroom door because you forgot your glasses?" Yeah, you're the sensitive one, all right.
"We out of here?"
"Sure."
Why? Part 7
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.
"This has been really nice. Thanks for coming."
"You did it all. I just rode along."
"Yeah, but you were here--really here."
"Huh?" What's he talking about?
"Just seems lately that when we are together we aren't together. You know? Not like we used to be." Noticed, huh? "I missed that." I didn't get some girlfriend.
"Yeah. Me too." Funny. This doesn't make me want to cry. Why is that? Am I getting numb? Was the day good enough to make up for things?
"You really still don't want to tell me what's been bothering you?" Please, please, please, please don't try to play "my friend" or my therapist or whatever. Please!
"I'm okay. Don't worry about me. It's kind of nice to try and forget everything else today."
"Sorry. You're right. I shouldn't mess up a great day by bringing up other stuff. I just . . . I just wanted you to know that I know and that I'm sorry."
Know what? Know what? What's he talking about? Know what?
"Know what?"
"Know that you're upset. Know that you aren't happy right now."
"Oh."
"But you're right, I guess. Let's just enjoy the day.
. . . . . .
"Thanks Josh, that was the best day I've had in a long time. I really loved it."
"Me too. We have to do these things more. Have to find time just for us." Yeah. Just for us. "Let's just go by the front desk and see about messages, kay?"
"Sure."
"Good afternoon, sirs. A few messages. Mr. Bass left a message for each of you. A phone message for you, Mr. Timberlake. And, Mr. Chasez, your guest arrived. She's in Room 519."
"Great. Thanks. . . . Justin? Justin? Justin, what's wrong?"
"Gotta go." Where's that restroom? There! Stall. Stall. Ugh! I hate throwing up. Hate it. Oh God, I feel like I'm going to pass out or something. Oh.
"Justin! Jus! You okay? You okay?" Oh God--this must be what they mean by "exquisite pain"--Josh's hand on my shoulder. "Jus? Please Jus!"
"Hey." I better just sit . . . fall into a sitting position. I don't think I can stand right now. I'll just lean against this partition. Oh Josh. Oh Josh, Josh, Josh, Josh. And tears in your eyes. Why? Why? Why do you care?
"You feel like standing up?"
"No. Not yet. Sorry. Give me a couple minutes."
"You ever do this before?"
"No. Don't think so."
"Did you get food poisoning?" Is there such a thing as love poisoning?
"I don't think so. Just nerves, I guess."
"You? Nerves? I know you don't like crowds and stuff, but there weren't crowds out there. And even then, you just like to get away or know they can't get to you."
"Don't know. . . . "
"Justin! Don't pass out. Don't go to sleep here. Please Jus."
"Sorry. I'm okay. You go on."
"GO? I don't think so. I'm not leaving you." You already left me. For her. Some her. Some her who's here now. Back again. Thanks for squeezing me in today before she came. Thanks for the gift. Oh. God. I feel so woozy. "Justin? Justin?"
Where am I. Oh. Still sitting in this bathroom. Nice place. I guess he wanted to go see her. He's gone.
"Hurry, okay? I'm really scared. I don't want anything happening to him. Yeah, the one just near the concierge's desk. Hurry! . . . Hey, you back with me?" With you? Now and forever, I'm afraid. Now and forever--if I like it or not. No matter how much it hurts. "Jus?"
"Now and forever."
"Huh? What'd you say buddy? Don't worry, Lance is coming to help me get you to your room."
Why? Part 8
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.
"Hey buddy. You feelin' better?" My angel's voice. I love him so much. So much.
I can't get my eyes open. I'm so tired. Focus. Try to focus.
"Hey." Did I make a sound? Did I just think that or could he hear it?
"Don't try to talk. You're really weak. The doctor was here and left some stuff for you. You're supposed to drink this stuff--it gives you back stuff you probably lost when you were sick. Feel like drinking some?"
"Mmmm." Sorry, I'm not feeling too articulate at the moment.
"Here. Got a straw. Will be easier to drink."
Oh. His hand on my face. Holding my head up. Just touching me.
I hate loving him so much. I hate this. I just want it gone. I want it over. I want him out of my life.
"Oh Jus! It's okay. Don't cry! You'll be okay. The doctor says it was either something you ate or maybe nerves or something-- stress. But it'll be okay. Oh Jus--don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry."
And I don't want to cry--or to let you see me cry. But I'm too weak to fight. I can't hide it while I feel like this.
Oh God. Not hugging me. Not holding my head against his chest. Not this. Not now. Oh Josh, this will not help me stop crying. It will only make me know why I'm crying. And make me want to cry all the more.
"Please, Jus. Please tell me what's wrong. Please let me help you. I love you more than anyone I know--just let me help you!"
OH! NO! Don't say that! Don't say those words! PLEASE don't do that! I can't stand to hear those words from you--cause I know how you mean them!
"Justin! I'm sorry. Calm down. Oh Jus--you're sobbing so hard. Be careful--you can't breathe. Careful."
I don't want to breathe--ever again. I don't want to. How can I ever face you again after this, Josh? How?
Oh, but I love his arms around me. My face against his shirt. His wet shirt. Sorry about that. I wish I didn't love him so much. How did this happen to me? How did I get here? Why can't I just die? Or just have a normal life again. Why?
"Fall asleep, my friend. Just fall asleep again. That will make you feel better. You need to rest. Please rest. Please get better. Please."
Hmmm? What?
. . . . . .
"Oh God, please. Please take care of Justin. He's the best person in the world. He doesn't deserve to be sick. Please help him. Please let me know what to do. How to help. Please!"
. . . . . .
"Hey Lance."
"How's he doing?"
"Better, I hope--he's sleeping. I think that's what's best for now, you know? At least he'll get his energy back. If he doesn't wake up to drink some of this stuff though, we have to call the doctor back to put in an IV. He has to get something into him."
"What about me taking a turn in here? Chris said you sent him away--and Joey too. Let me take a turn. We don't need you getting sick too."
"Nah, I'm okay. I mean, you can stay too, if you want; but I don't need to go anywhere."
"Okay. I will stay a while though. Oh, Bobbie grabbed something to eat with us earlier. I think she's watching TV with Joey and Steve now. She said to tell you she's praying for Justin."
"She's a good friend. Came in to see me, and I haven't even seen her to say hi. But I know she understands. And she likes hanging out with the other guys anyway."
Bobbie? It's Bobbie who's here? It's Bobbie . . .
. . . . . .
What time is it? God, I feel tired and not tired. Kinda good-- kinda bad. Weird. What's that? Jeez! I have an IV! Was I that bad?
Open eyes--try to open eyes. Farther. Farther.
Josh. Sweet Josh. He looks awful! What's he doing here? I've been awful to him. I have to stop all this. I have to get over it all. I have to stop doing this to him. Stop doing it to me. Just stop.
Knocking? Oh, at the door. Josh? He's asleep. Can I talk? Too tired. Too tired.
It's Britney! How can she be here?
"Hey Justin! You're awake! I was told you were sleeping."
Hi Britney. You look beautiful. But don't frown . . . I'm okay.
"Hey." Could she hear that?
"Hey. You got everyone scared, you know? Especially this guy over here. Glad he's finally getting some sleep. Jus, what happened? Is this all stress and nerves? You have to face this thing. . . . I'm sorry, I don't mean to be yelling at you--I'm just worried."
Oh her fingers feel so nice and cool on my face.
"We all love you Justin. You have to know that. And everyone can take anything you have to say. I promise you. You just have to tell everyone. They won't leave you. They won't throw you out."
"Huh? What? What's going on? Huh?"
"Josh, it's okay--it's Brit--and Justin's awake--or sort of awake."
"He is? Is he okay? What about throwing him out? What were you saying? Is he okay?"
"Yes, yes! He's okay. You're okay."
"Hey Jus, you back with us? We missed you."
"Sorry."
"Not your fault! But glad you're back. Really glad."
Oh Josh, don't cry; if you cry I'll never stop crying.
"I'll be back in a minute."
"Sure Josh. . . . Justin, how can you imagine for a minute that that guy doesn't love you more than his own life? He's been here the last 24 hours or more--never leaving your side. I wouldn't be surprised if that was the first time he even went to the bathroom. He loves you. You owe it to him and to you and to all of us to be honest with him."
"I, um, ugh." What's in my mouth? It's all stuck together.
"Here, drink some of this. Here's the straw." Yuck. Warm. Tastes awful.
"Thanks. . . . He loves me--like a friend. I know we're best friends . . . but that's all. That's all."
"Well, even if that's the case, don't you think your best friend deserves to know the truth about what's upsetting you? Don't you think your best friend can take the truth? Don't you trust his love that much?"
"I guess. I'm just so scared, Brit. It's bad not having him the way I want, but if I lose him all together . . . Brit, I couldn't stand that. I just couldn't stand that."
"Then you know how we all feel about you. If you don't start taking care of yourself, we may lose you all together. And we can't stand the idea of that."
Oh Brit--not you too. Why is everyone crying? I just got a little sick--that's all. I'm fine. I promise--I'll be fine.
"Sorry. I'm just tired."
"Where are you supposed to be?"
"Here."
"You know what I mean."
"I'm just doing studio work in Orlando--no big deal. I'm fine. I'll just stay a few days."
"A few days?"
"Yeah--however long you need me to."
"Hey . . . sorry; hadn't made a bathroom run in a while." Yeah, good cover Josh. You might rethink the acting career too.
"I'm going to go tell the other guys that Justin is feeling better. Bye sweetie. You keep resting--and if you want anything, just send for me. And you--you need to sleep! You call me to come sit when you are finally ready to go to sleep--and I mean in a bed, not on a chair!"
"I will. Thanks Brit. I'm really glad you came."
"Hey, you guys are the best--and my best friends. I'm here anytime I can be! See you later."
"She's great. A great friend. . . . I'm glad you are feeling better. I just hope taking you out in the car didn't bring all this on. I'm really sorry."
"Josh . . . it wasn't the car. I've just been really upset lately, and I guess the stress or anxiety or whatever . . . they must have gotten to me."
"That's sort of what the doctor said."
"I'll be okay. I just have to face some things. Deal with some things. I guess even admit some things."
"Well, just rest now, okay? We'll be here for you no matter what! Anything you need to do, we'll be there for you. I promise! I promise!"
Really? Will you be able to keep that promise, Josh?