Date: Wed, 18 Dec 2002 20:02:27 -0500
From: chris _qd <chris_qd@hotmail.com>
Subject: At What Point part 2

Disclaimer:
This story contains homoerotic and/or man-to-man relationship-based
literature. If you find this offensive, it is illegal in your area
or you are below the age to view such materials in your area - please
exit this site now! This means you, if you grew up watching Barney,
and /or he played any part in your childhood!

Said story will center on a fictitious plot line using the members of
Nsync and people associated with them as "characters." This story is
meant as a form of entertainment and should not be understood as any
form of truth when in reference to the actions and preferences of said
"characters."  IE: I know not of their actual sexuality, I don't know
them personally and I probably never will, so the events and "facts"
(unless public knowledge) aren't real -- the definition of "fiction!"

Author Note: So here's part two, hope those who liked part one, like
this as well. Thanks to all those who have given feedback like: Robert,
Scott (he writes "Over" - read it! It's defiantly worth your time!),
and I especially want to thank Justin!


***
At What Point? Part 2
***


Scott awoke to the sounds of Alanis's "You Owe Me Nothing in Return,"
which his cd player had chosen at random.  He felt like hell in the
mornings, that was nothing new, twenty years of shitty sunrises.

"Six-thirty," he mumbled with morning breath. "Stretches, pills,
shower..." Feeling his bristled face, he finished with, "better shave and
get off to 'Kack' before he gets up."

He always woke and planned his action when he got out of bed, he may
not really know what he wanted to do with his life but, Scott always made
sure he knew what he had to do in the immediate future. His morning
routine has always been the same, since he could remember keeping track;
of course there have been alterations with time and age.

But "before he gets up" rang in his ears.  He wondered why he felt the
need to avoid his father but did not take much time to ponder before he
came to the same answer he always did. "I'm not the son he wanted.  So
what else is new?"  He thought that he should be crying.  Scott had seen
enough 'TV Movies of the Week' to know that that's the way it should
work.  But the tears didn't come; in fact they had ended years ago. He
sighed and let the water drip from him as he ended his shower...

"Damn 'Kack' traffic! Apparently no one plans on getting to classes on
time!"  Scott yelled to himself causing the windows to fog.  He had left at
seven, and the campus was less than ten minutes from house, but once
again there was trouble on Rout 51.  'Two cars, one cell phone and a red
light that apparently -came out of nowhere-, all culminated in fucking up
may day!'  He covered his irate thoughts with a smile he flashed at his
GeoPolicts professor.  'Maybe she will for get the point docking thing for
being late... Shit, she's not smiling back!'

Scott's 8-o-clock class, which he had entered a half hour late, had ended
and he knew he had gone to his class at ten, but couldn't remember a
damn thing.  'Finish the day or just leave?  Well lets see, anything due?
No. Can I get notes? Yes. Do I care? - No!' With that thought he headed
to the parking lot.  'So this is college - fuck it, this place isn't even a
campus! It's barely two buildings!'  He blinked and squeezed his temples
as he passed the perpetually empty guard both at the entrance of the
campus's main drag. 'Damn, am I tired...'

Not really knowing what to do with his self appointed 'day off,' Scott
slowly made his way towards Homestead and the Waterfront.  Not that he
had a choice, traffic in Pittsburgh defined slow - PennDOT was always
toying with this or that. He would have to meet Tim, and whatever the her
name was there later in the day anyway.  "I'll just pick through
Barnes&Noble till then.  There's gotta be something worth reading in the
bargain bin."  He said aloud to himself as he pulled into the parking lot;
his sentence being punctuated by the ringing of his cell phone.

"Hi mom."

"What made you think it was me?"

'Cause nobody else has the number for this cellular leash but you!' he
wanted to scream, but his judgment stated for him. "Cause the phone says
so on the display.  You're the one who bought it, you should know."

Silence "... oh yes, right, right... so did you get to class alright?  I
heard about 51."

"Yeah, I got - I'm here.  It was just a lil bit of a delay."  Fumbling with
the phone he wondered if she had caught that and how she knew about 51.
He was half temped to look over his shoulder as he got out of his car to
see if I was followed.

Oh, that's good honey - have to run, work, work, work - you know how it
is. Love you..."

Before Scott could say anything he heard a click than static. 'Honey - my
ass!  I doubt she could pick me out of a line up.  I don't even know what
downtown building she's working at this week.  And -work- now there's
an idea. What the hell does she do?  A -motivational economist- that's
what she calls it.  Tells other people how to do things with a cheery
disposition but offers no idea how do to actually do what she recommends.
What a load of BS...'

Scanning the barging bin, he bought a cheap book on database engineering
for delivering practical applications over networks to user end computers.
Scott sighed. 'Or, in other words: How to build toys for the web if you are
a net nerd or just a complete loser.' He walked to the counter to buy the
Fruitopia he had picked out based on color, not really caring what the
flavor was.  Skipping though most of the paperback textbook till he
reached the part on game building, he began to read.  All he really wanted
to do was throw together a net based chess game that he and his cousin
could play, and that would keep track of the movies and win and losses.
'God, I need a life...'

For the second time Scott was snapped out of his thoughts by his 'leash'.

"Sup Huffman! Where you at?"

"Hey, Tim.  I'm already at The Waterfront."

"Cool, cool.  Meet us in front of the Loews - 'k?"

"Yeah, um what time?"

" 'round six, six-thirty.  That cool?"

"Yeah, oh what's her name again?"

"Who?"

"Well that isn't a good sign!  Your new girlfriend I'm supposed to meet.
Hence, the point of meeting up!"

"Damn, sorry!  Its Pamela, goes by Pam."

"Ok, I have to go, my battery is dying."

" 'k - later."

His cell was fine; he just didn't feel like talking with Tim anymore.
'I wonder how long this one will last.  Nope. Better question.  How much
longer will this job last?  When will he learn when you screw every co-
worked with tits and then fuck them over that your job security goes to
hell?  I swear he's making a tour of the food service jobs of the south
hills
from his bed!'

Stopping outside the of the bookstore with text in hand, he thought out
loud.  "Shit, he said six and it's only three.  Now what?"  With those
words he headed into the open-air mall that filled the gap between the
Barnes&Noble and the theater, which would be his end destination.

Filled with stores like the Gap and Abercrombie, he felt out of place and a
slight grimace fell upon his face.  But he roamed the complex anyway, for
the sake of burning time. His expression worsened slightly by the bitter
chill that ran down his back - Pittsburgh would have snow that evening.

Scott walked past a line of windows and pondered, as he did when he was
alone.  It wasn't that he hated the clothes themselves, some were ok.
Although, he couldn't understand paying such a high price for some of it.
'Cheap cloth and construction - only to shell out cash for the right to be a
walking billboard' he thought as he passed one of the overly lit window
displays.

It was getting colder and a choice had to be made.  "Freeze my ass off out
here, or go into one of the stores."  The people who passed he gave him an
odd look - then he realized he had said that out loud, with a blush. 'New
Wave PGH or the Ye old Wax Shoppe?  Well let's see, the -hip and
modern- clothing store or asphyxiate on bad berry candle fumes...
clothing it is!'

Walking in, he aborted the much needed heat. It was a misnomer, at least
for humans, that 'blubber' was insulating.  His eyes were assaulted but
stark white walls and in adverting his eyes downward, Scott was blinded by
the
obsessively polished floor that reflected the powerful stage-like lighting
that hung above him.  As the spots dissipated from his field of view, he
notices that there were very few clothes on display and none that could
just be picked up and bought.

'God, did I pick the wrong spot to warm up.  I don't think they have a shirt
in here bigger than a medium, let alone size -fat ass-.  Ok, now how can I
get out of here before a sales clerk sees me.... Shit too late!'

"Sir, I don't think we can help you here. This establishment specializes
in..."

Scott stopped listening.  'She is actually telling me to fuck off!  Oh, of
all the...'  His face was growing red.  "Ma'ma., Miss or whatever they call
you in the Ninth Ring of He..."

But before he could finish his boiling tirade the "acquisition coordinator,"
as it said on her lapel pin, turned and quickly covered the distance between
the door and the dressing room, after being summoned by someone wearing a
baseball cap and sunglasses.  In one swift action she summarily dismissed
Scott's existence.

"Fucking figures! Go help the pretty-boy with the thirty-two inch waist!"
Scott left the store screaming.  Not that he could see the actual waist size
if the guy in the back - it just sounded good at the time.  'Time to meet
Tim
and, um, and, Pam, anyway. And I yell at him for forgetting!'

Trudging over to the Loews, he spotted Tim and his new toy. 'As always:
small, petit, and top heavy.  Maybe the boy should just buy a Barbie?!'

"Hey Scott, this is Pam.  Pam this is Scott.  Now let's go; I'm freezing my
ass off!"

"You could have waited in the lobby.  I'm not blind, I could have found
you!" Scott said slipping into a rather sarcastic tone.

"I tried to tell him that..."

'Damn she sounds like a two year old' Scot thought as his eyes darted
over towards Tim. 'Cradle-robber, damn near pedophilia...' And as if Tim
could read him, he flashed Scott a smile.

"We need to get you a date." Tim directed to Scot as he held the door for
Pam

"Sure have anyone in mind?" Scot smirked at the idea '...how about that
stock boy you worked with at Wal-Mart?  I'd love to see what's under that
blue vest.  I bet he...'

"Earth to Scott!" the toddler's voice snapping him to reality.  "What
movie do you want to see?"

"You and Tim can decide. I'm not that picky."

Scott was now regretting that statement. The 'couple' had picked a sappy
romantic film which only gave them an excuse to make out, cuddle, and
otherwise grope each other in the dark. 'Ok time to get out of here.  The
last thing I need to see is one of my best friends impregnate a toddler in a
movie theater - I'm mentally damaged  enough as it is!  And its pill time
anyway.'

Making his way out of the theater he stopped at the water fountain and
afterward decided to hit the bathroom.  God knows what traffic will be
like and the last thing he wanted was to be stuck on 51 having to 'go.'

'First time I have been here where there is no line - then again I am
leaving in the middle of the movie - I wonder if Tim will be pissed?'

Scott finished washing his hands and headed for the paper towels by the
exit.  As he did the door to the hand-capped stall swung open and before
he could react, Scott was struck in the face and set off balance, falling
backwards to the hard marble floor. He felt his head hit once, bounce and
hit
again. He instantly reached up to feel if there was blood. Feeling wetness,
but not sure, he tried to rather himself. Looking up he saw that the man,
who had rushed from the stall, was now approaching him...

'...hat, .... glasses...' he was feeling a nauseated now.  "Pretty boy..."
was all Scott could mutter before his vision  blurred and the world
disappeared.

"Wha-What? Are you o..." the other man stuttered in a confused state of
concern. But stopped when he saw the other mans eyes flutter and close as
he lay still on the wet bathroom floor.  He then bolted from the scene, the
door swinging violently in his wake.

tbc

***
End note: Yeah I know, its a "cliffhanger."  When I decided to write this
story I promised myself that there would be no "cliffhangers" but I lied!
Oh well.  And yes the next chapter will finally reveal which member of
*Nsync is involved; I just have a hard time making up my mind. (I want
to thank Justin for giving me a fan/readers insight) And the chapters will
be be getting longer too, since i'm on winter break. That's all for now!

Feedback:  chris_qd@hotmail.com
Website: http://www.cranmikey.com/ctbyte/ffa/awp/
(It has links to information about most of the things and places mentioned
in each chapter)