Yellow

Hey guys (and gals)! Here's another chapter of "Yellow" for ya... I was hoping to have this out before March ended and... I succeeded. Go me! I think it turned out ok, overall... I jump around a lot (again)... and you might wanna reread chapter 3 if you don't remember it... it's not crucial, but it might help.

I have a question... is anybody reading this thing? Cuz... I mean, I've gotten a few emails about it, and that's really, really cool... and I've TRIED to respond to them, but I suck at email... anyways... if you've emailed me, thanks a lot... I DO appreciate it... and, if ya want, try me again... I'm gonna try and actually get back to you guys this time. If you haven't emailed me, please do... I'm not gonna say that if I don't get emails, I'm gonna stop the story, cuz I don't write it for that... I write it for me... but it's nice to know that someone's reading it and (maybe) enjoying it. So yeah... wrongfulsuspicion@hotmail.com.

Thanks go out to friends (SLJ) and readers...

Disclaimer time... if you're under 18, you're not supposed to read this. Bad language abounds in this chapter... and we all know that if you're under 18, you've never heard bad language...

This story doesn't mean to imply that anyone in NSYNC is gay, has ever met anyone who is gay, or even knows what the word "gay" means.

You guys get two quotes this time, cuz I couldn't decide which one I liked better. I think they both fit the chapter well, so...

"guess I'm doing something wrong never feel right in these shoes a pocket full of matches and a head full of flames got to warn you that I'm bad news"

-eels

"feeling scared today write down 'i am ok' a hundred times the doctors say I am ok I am ok I'm not ok"

-eels

and now (finally)... chapter 4 of... "Yellow"...

I walked into the hotel bar and examined my surroundings. A piano. A bar. Tables. Depressed people. Perfect.

I headed towards the bar and pulled up a stool. Grabbing an ashtray from behind the counter, I lit up a cigarette, watching the smoke curl its way towards the ceiling before vanishing with fascination. It always struck me as beautiful.

Where was I? Kansas? Kentucky? It's one of the "K" states, I think... but I could be wrong. Doesn't really matter.

"Hey kid."

I looked up to see the bartender hovering over me. "Yeah?"

"The lady down there wants to buy you a drink," he said, pointing to the other end of the bar. Through the lingering smoke and dim lights of the bar, I could barely make out a figure, let alone tell it was a woman. I decided to take his word for it. I nodded my thanks to the bartender, stood up, and began to make my way towards her.

"Hello."

"Hi."

She was pretty, I guess. Mid to late 20s, I'd say... but I'm usually not too good at games like that. She had a kind face though. Red highlights in her hair. Black glasses. A little familiar looking. "My name's Evan."

She shook her head at me. "I know that. Don't you remember me?"

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Rebecca Tilson." Seeing no hint of recognition appear on my face, she sighed. "I interviewed you a while back."

"Oh yeah... the chick I stood up a bunch of times."

She laughed a little, swirling her drink around in her hand. "So you DO remember..."

I smiled. "Yeah... sorry about that."

She waved her hand in the air. "It's ok... no hard feelings. I'm used to dealing with you rock star types."

"That's me... Mr. Rock Star." I lit another cigarette and sat down on the stool next to her.

"You want something to drink?"

I nodded slightly. "Yeah... a Coke would be great."

"A Coke? No booze?"

"I don't drink."

She stared at me, seeming to be dumbfounded. "The man who wrote the song 'Alcohol Saved My Life' doesn't drink?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Alright... whatever..." She motioned the bartender over to us, placed my order, and turned back to me abruptly. "So what're you doing in Colorado?"

Colorado? Wow... I was way off. How in the hell did I get to Colorado? I guess I shouldn't have left the map at home. "I dunno... just driving."

"You drove here from North Carolina?!?"

I shrugged again. "Looks like it, don't it?"

"Wow."

"I guess." I suddenly felt uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. I called the bartender back over. "Gimme a vodka."

"I thought you didn't drink."

"I don't."

"Uh... huh."

"So why are you here?"

"There's some local band that's starting to make waves... so the magazine sent me up here to interview 'em."

"They any good?"

"Not in the least."

"So they're gonna be big."

"Yep."

"Gotta love the music business." I swallowed my drink down in one long swing and quickly called for another.

"You're an interesting guy, Evan."

I laughed. It came out bitter. Big surprise. "So I keep hearing."

Rebecca opened her mouth and quickly shut it. I guess she chose to ignore my comment. "Did you like the article I wrote about you?"

"Honestly? I never read it."

"Well... that makes me feel good."

Another shrug. "It's not personal."

"I know." We sat there in silence for awhile, neither one of us knowing quite what to say. She drank. I drank and smoked. She finally stood up, throwing some cash down on the bar. "Well... it's been real, Evan... but I think I'm gonna go get some sleep."

"Ok."

I watched her walk out of the bar. Turning back to my half-empty drink, I lit another cigarette. Halfway through it, I heard a voice behind me. "Why'd you lie to me Evan?"

I looked over my shoulder. Rebecca. "It depends. What did I lie to you about?"

"During our interview. I asked you why you stopped playing. You said it was because you were tired."

"I was. Still am."

She walked back to her stool, standing over me. "That may be. But there's something else there."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm not a fucking idiot."

"Oh."

"Indeed. So... why'd you lie?"

I finished the rest of my drink and turned to face her. "Fuck off Rebecca."

"Fuck you Evan. Now tell me."

Who the fuck did this chick think she was? "Why? So you can write ALL ABOUT IT in your next fucking article? Thanks a lot, but you can go to hell."

"I don't give a damn about my next fucking article Evan... I don't even give a damn why you REALLY haven't played anything in three years. What I DO care about is that I printed a lie, represented as the truth. And that's NOT cool in my book. So just tell me WHY the FUCK you lied, and I'll leave you alone."

My head was pounding. No... that had to be the understatement of the century. My head felt like it had imploded. I sat up in bed, disoriented. Where the fuck was I? And why was the shower running? Did I have sex last night? I looked down. Still wearing clothes. That was a good sign.

I slowly crawled out of bed, my legs wobbly. I looked around the room. It wasn't mine. That I was sure about. This one had a balcony. Why the fuck didn't I get a balcony? I walked towards the sliding doors. Maybe fresh air would help. Sliding the blinds to one side, I felt the sun hit my face. "OH FUCK!!!" I screamed, pulling the blinds back as fast as I could.

"You know, with the amount you drank last night, I'm surprised you can move at all."

I turned around to face the person who was speaking to me. The events of last night slowly clicked back into place (or... at least... some of them). "Rebecca?"

"Bingo." She was wearing a tank top and a pair of boxers. Not mine.

"Did... did we have sex?"

She laughed. "Evan... you're GAY. I slept on the couch."

I sighed. "Thank God."

"Aww... you sure know how to make a girl feel special there, Evan," she said, smiling.

"I didn't... I didn't mean..."

"I know what you meant. Besides... you were so shit-faced last night that I had to have one of the bellboys help me drag you up here. Even if either of us wanted to, I don't think you would have been ABLE to have sex."

I crossed the room and collapsed back onto the bed. "Good to know."

"You're a sarcastic little fucker, aren't you?"

I lifted my head slightly to look at her, ignoring the searing pain in my brain. "Pretty much, yeah." She laughed. Glad I was amusing her.

"Do you remember anything about last night?"

I thought about it. Remembered walking into the bar, remembered talking with Rebecca for a bit, remembered ordering a vodka... remembered her leaving, her coming back... oh... shit. SHIT. I sat up suddenly. Big mistake. Rebecca walked past me to her bag. She searched through it for a minute or so, pulled something out, and threw it at me. Tylenol. Thank God. I swallowed four of them... and then two more for good measure. "What... what did I tell you?

She walked over to the bed and sat down next to me. Her eyes were full of sympathy, and I knew I had said too much last night. "Enough Evan. You told me enough."

I felt the tears drop down my face. Rebecca shifted towards me, wrapping me in a hug. "It's ok. Let it out." I pushed her away after a few seconds and walked across the room. Staring at the blinds which led to the window which led to the world.

"It's not ok Rebecca."

"It will be. Maybe not now, but someday. It will be."

I shook my head. "Some scars never heal," I whispered.

"True. Some scars don't... if you don't let them."

I turned to face her, my eyes red. "FUCK YOU. You don't know what it's like. You can't even BEGIN to comprehend. Every time I fucking look at myself..." I trailed off.

She got off the bed and moved towards me. "Evan..."

"STOP! Don't start! JUST DON'T!"

She stopped moving. We were maybe ten feet apart. She looked me in the eyes and tried again. "Evan, you can't..."

"FUCK! Are you a fucking IDIOT? GODDAMMIT!" My head fell, my eyes boring holes in the ground. And I made a decision. I raised my head back up, meeting her eyes once again. "You wanna see what I have to see every day? Do you? Fuck... will that get you off my fucking back? Well, FINE." I quickly pulled my shirt over my head and threw it across the room. "Happy now?"

She gasped. Pulled her hand over her mouth, which was hanging wide open. "Oh... Jesus."

"SOME SCARS DON'T HEAL."

Rebecca shook her head. "Evan..."

"What Rebecca? WHAT? Every fucking day, I have to see this... and it's a reminder. A reminder of that night. And I'm supposed to get over this? Not a chance in hell. NOT A CHANCE."

"I ran away."

"What?"

I looked up at Rebecca, who was sitting across from me. She was slouched down in the booth, picking at her salad. "I ran away. That's why I'm in Colorado."

"What did you run away from?"

I took a bit out of my hamburger and shrugged. "I dunno. Life, I guess."

"Evan..." she began, before she trailed off, hesitating.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know the Eels?"

"Of course."

"You know 'P.S. You Rock My World'?"

"Yeah..."

"'And I was thinking 'bout how/ Everyone was dying/ And maybe it's time to live.'"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She leaned forward, elbows on the table. "I dunno... maybe... just... it's time for you to start living."

I looked down at my plate, staring at my half-eaten lunch. She was right, of course. But... but I didn't know how. How sad is that? I didn't know how to live anymore.

"Evan?"

I looked back up at her. "I don't know if I can."

"You're a strong man Evan. You can."

"I wish I were as sure about it as you seem to be."

She sighed. "You only get one life Evan. You might as well use it."

I sped down the highway, headed east. Back home? Maybe. Not too sure yet.

I kept thinking about what Rebecca had said to me. She was right. I knew that. But what I didn't know is if I was strong enough. I didn't FEEL strong enough, that's for damn sure.

I knew that I had a lot to make up for, a lot of work to do if I was gonna get past this. I sighed, keeping my eyes peeled for a hotel and, more specifically, a phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"EVAN?!?"

"Yeah."

"Where the FUCK are you?!?"

I sighed. "I'm... not too sure. Somewhere in Iowa... or Illinois... one or the other."

"Why are you way the fuck out there?"

"Aaron... look... I'm sorry."

A pause on the other end of the phone. I could almost hear the anger building up. "You're sorry? YOU'RE SORRY?!? Do you KNOW how FUCKING worried I was about you? DO YOU? Christ Evan... I had your family, my family, friends... the fucking POLICE looking for you!"

"I'm sorry," I said, almost whispering.

"I mean, fuck... you just up and leave TWO WEEKS ago without a word to anyone..."

I jumped in, interrupting him before this got any worse. "Aaron look... I know that what I did was pretty shitty. I know... I know that a lot of things that... I've done... have been pretty shitty. I just needed... I needed to think about stuff."

Quiet.

"Aaron?"

"Like what?"

"Like... I dunno... STUFF!"

"That's real descriptive there, Evan."

"I just... I don't know what to do anymore... it's like... I'm being pulled in two directions... and either way I go just... sucks."

He sighed. "Evan, I hate to mention this, but... you're the one who trapped yourself into that situation. It didn't have to come to this."

"I know. I know."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Either kill myself or live happily ever after... haven't decided yet."

A pause. I could hear Aaron take a deep breath. "If that's a joke Evan, it's a really shitty one."

I felt a wave of guilt overtake me almost immediately. "I'm sorry."

"Let me try this again. What are you gonna do?"

"I dunno. I think I'm gonna stay on the road for awhile. I think... it's good for me not to be at home. Away from... things."

"Ok."

"Ok."

"Look... Evan... I'm still really fucking pissed at you... you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"But... if you need to talk... about anything... you know you can call me, right?"

"Yeah."

"Ok."

"I'm gonna go now."

"Wait! You need to call Justin."

Justin?!? "Why do I need to call JUSTIN?!?"

"Because... when you disappeared... I called a whole bunch of people, trying to find out if you had mentioned anything to anyone... and JC and Justin were two of those people. They're both really worried about you. So call Justin."

"Why not JC? Why do I have to call Justin?" I was whining now, I'll admit it.

Another sigh. "Because you know Justin a lot better, and it's only fair. He's worried Evan. Call him."

I felt all the fight ease out of my body. "Ok."

"You promise?"

"Yeah."

"Ok."

"Anything else?"

He paused. "Evan... take as much time as you need... just... keep in touch every now and then, ok?"

"Alright."

"And... I hope... I hope you find what you're looking for... the... the answers that you need."

I felt the first tears begin to well up behind my eyes. Aaron was way too good of a friend. "Thank you Aaron."

"No problem. Now go."

"Ok." I hesitated before speaking up again. "I love you Aaron."

I laugh... one that sounded to be expelled through tears. "I love you too, you big dumbass."

"Say hi to the wife for me, will ya?"

"Yeah."

"Bye Aaron."

"Goodbye Evan."

"Hello?"

"Hey Justin."

"Evan?"

"Yeah. It's me."

Silence. I think... I think he wanted me to say something else. What? I have no idea... so instead, we sat. Me in Illinois (or Iowa), him in... wherever... neither wanting to be the first to break the silence. I guess it finally became to much for him, because after like five minutes, he spoke up again. "Where are you?"

"I dunno... somewhere... a hotel... I think Illinois. Maybe Iowa. One of those 'I' states."

A sigh. "Why'd you run away?"

"It just... I dunno... I just... couldn't take it anymore."

"Couldn't take what?"

I shrugged involuntarily. "I guess... just... life."

Another pause. "Why are you calling me?"

I thought briefly of lying, but decided against it. "Because Aaron told me to. He said that... you were... I mean... you and JC... were worried about me."

"We were."

"I'm sorry for that."

"Ok."

"Really."

A small laugh. "I believe you Evan."

"Ok."

"What happened Evan?"

I sighed. "Justin..."

"I know, I know," he interrupted. "Just thought it was worth a try."

"Ok."

"Why... why didn't you just talk to someone? Aaron or... whomever. Me even. Someone could have tried to help you. Running away... doesn't solve much."

"I didn't know... what to talk about."

"What do you mean?"

"I wouldn't even know where to start, Justin. It's just... it's all piled up, so high... it just seems like there's no way to get into it." Damn. I was being really honest. I had forgotten how easy Justin was to talk to. I could feel myself slowly letting down my guard with him... again... the wall that I had taken so long to build up.

"I guess that makes sense. But... but there has to be something somebody can do to help."

I sighed again. "Probably... but that would involve a whole lot of talking and a whole lot of listening... and even if I figured out how to get into it, I dunno if I have the energy to deal with it." Unless I'm drunk, I remembered bitterly, thinking of Rebecca.

"Let me ask you something Evan."

"Ok."

"Do you like who you are right now?"

"Not particularly," I answered, so softly that I could barely hear the words come out of my mouth.

"Well... then... all I can say to you is... find the energy. Find the strength. It wouldn't hurt anything to talk about it."

"I know."

"Ok."

"Ok."

"I guess... I'll let you go then."

"Alright."

"Thanks for calling."

"Yeah." My mind was working overdrive. Why did he have to be so damn smart? Why did he have to have all the answers? I mean... I don't know what I mean. It's just... he was SO easy to talk to... and, as much as I hated to admit it, I didn't really want to hang up. There was just... something... about him. I remembered the first time I met Justin. And I remembered how close I had come to telling him. I mean... I had known him for like... less than a day... and I wanted to spill my guts to him. He was just... a really nice guy. And he was concerned about me. Even I, in the truly fucked up existence that I called my reality, could see that. And so, like all the decisions that I ever made... I made up my mind quickly and suddenly. I needed to say the words before I chickened out. Say them, dammit. "Justin?"

"Yeah?"

Here we go. Deep breath. "Where are you?"

"What?"

"Where are you?"

"Ummm... St. Louis. Why?"

"For how long?"

"I think... another day... then... Memphis. Why?"

Another deep breath. "I'm coming to see you."

Yeah yeah... I'm just teasing you now. Next chapter will be out... eventually. Before April's out, I think. I'd hope so, at least. The song quote in the story is by the Eels, in case you didn't catch that. Incidentally, we're nearing the end of what I like to call "Phase 1" of the story. There are 3 phases, overall (and in case you're thinking, "Wow... that was quick," know that not all the "phases" are the same length... the next one could be 9 chapters, the third one could be 94... I would doubt it, but who knows? The point I'm attempting to make is that the story is NOT almost over). Just wanted to make you guys aware, cause things are gonna begin to change for our friend Evan soon... will they be good or bad? I dunno... we'll see what happens together. Email... wrongfulsuspicion@hotmail.com. Until next time, don't let the man get you down!