Date: Sat, 15 Mar 2003 09:55:33 -0800 (PST)
From: Brandon Kies <brandonkies@yahoo.com>
Subject: Right For Me - Chapter 2

Author's Note:

This isn't my first attempt at writing or posting to
Nifty, but it's my first attempt at anything for the
boy-band area.  I have to admit it took me a long time
to actually read any of the stories in this area.  I
made some assumptions about the genre that took a bit
to get over.  Once I did though, I couldn't stop.  I
think some of the best writing on Nifty is in this
area, and so I finally decided to join the ranks of
some of my favorite authors and post.  Any comments or
encouragements would be appreciated.  I'm more than
willing to accept criticism or suggestions, but please
no flames.

Disclaimer:

This story is pure fiction.  I don't know any of the
guys from `N Sync and my writings should in no way
imply anything about their sexuality.  Please do not
post this story with out first receiving my
permission.

Story Notes:

Sorry Guys, I guess I should have taken a moment or
two more to edit the last chapter.  Dylan was 19 when
Chad was born.  This means he's 22 now, not 18.

            ________________________

Right for Me -- Chapter 2
____________________

The windows on the jeep were tinted, which gave me a
few seconds to process what I'd just discovered.  And
come to a decision.  They didn't want me to know JT
was Justin Timberlake, fine.  I began a mental
checklist of what I'd need to do to get everything
moved to Colorado as I reached across to un-strap
Chad.  Shaking him gently I began the process of
waking him up.

"Hey, Little man.  We're here.  Come on buddy wake
up."

He was usually easy to wake up, one of those rare
people that can go from dead to the world to brimming
with life in a second.  He didn't disappoint this time
either.  Opening his eyes, he turned to look at me,
and smiled his special smile.  The one that said, "I
love you."  It was heart touching and blinding, and it
always brought a smile to my face, and a tug to my
heart.

Picking him up, I hugged him to me, nuzzling him, and
breathing in deeply that little boy smell that was
part soap, part outdoors, and part a mystery, but
stirred feelings of protectiveness on an unconscious
level.

Raising his head to look at me seriously, Chad said,
"Potty, Dylan!"

Laughing at him, I tosseled his hair and reached for
the door, "Ok, little man, let's get you inside."

Stepping out, my decision about how to deal with
Timberlake firmly in mind, I headed toward the house,
intersecting the welcoming committee.

"JT?"  I asked hesitantly, beginning my own deception.

"Hey!  Yep.  Welcome to Florida, bud."

"Thanks," I said smiling as I reached forward to shake
the hand he was offering.  "I hate to be rude, but
little man here is in a bit of a rush, bathroom
emergency."

"Oh," Justin said as he moved to lead us in the house
quickly.  "Let's take care of that and then we can get
your stuff un-loaded and I'll give you the grand
tour."

"There were a ton of people who wanted to meet you
today, but I managed to hold them off until tomorrow.
I thought you and Chad might be a bit tired still
after that long drive.  I wanted to give you a day at
least to get settled in before the cavalry arrived."

"Appreciate that J.  This last leg of the trip seemed
to last forever.  I didn't think we'd ever get out of
Georgia.  It might have been better to have just
shipped everything and taken a plane.  It would have
been much simpler, and I could have bought a Jeep down
here."

"Tough trip, then?" he asked as he led us down a
hallway to the restroom.

"Most trips with a three year old are tough," I
answered laughingly.  Excusing ourselves, I closed the
restroom door and helped Chad take care of business.
While there, we took the time to freshen up.  Get some
of the grime and grittiness long road trips seemed to
attract off.

I'd managed to calm down a bit, and decided Heather
and Justin's decision to keep his identity secret
wasn't some grand evil scheme.  They had said he was
famous.  They had mentioned his issues with trust, and
the problem he had with potential friends using him
for his fame and money, so I'm not sure exactly why it
was I was feeling betrayed.

I put the move to Colorado on the back burner,
deciding to give this a chance and find out what their
motivation were, but that didn't mean I wasn't going
to stick with my idea of not recognizing Justin, his
music, or that he was a pop superstar.  I wondered how
long they would try to keep his secret, probably until
the boys from `N Sync started making an appearance, I
finally concluded.

Opening the restroom door, I saw that Justin and Jesse
had left.  Retracing my steps, it didn't take me long
to find my way back to the living room, where I found
them waiting patiently for us.

"Sorry about that," I apologized as Justin noticed
we'd entered the room.

"Don't worry bout it.  Would you like the grand tour
before we grab your luggage?" He asked smiling
broadly.

"Sure," I said gesturing for him to lead the way.

"Well this is the living room," he said smirking
broadly.  Glancing around I noticed the high ceilings,
wooden beams, and that the ornate fireplace that had
been hinted at on the outside was featured prominently
in this room.  The furniture was very tasteful, but a
wonderful creamy white; and I instantly worried about
sticky fingers and little boys.  There was a beautiful
full scale black grand piano beneath a wonderful bay
window.  It seemed to soak up the sun that streamed
through the window, inviting those who observed it to
caress its keys.

"It's lovely, JT, but I bet it's a nightmare to keep
clean."

Justin followed my eyes as I looked at the two boys
and grinned at me in agreement.  "Yeah, this is the
`adult' room.  Actually we don't use it much.  Come
on, I'll show you the family room.  That's where we
spend most of our indoor time."

Leading the way, Justin did take the time to point out
some of the house's less significant rooms, at least
as he saw them, rooms like the kitchen, dining room,
and a study.  The kitchen was a chef's dream, and it
took him a moment to break my trance as I drooled over
the gadgets and gizmos he had scattered within.  There
was an actual restaurant style stove and dishwasher in
evidence, and I thought with some satisfaction that
cooking in this room would be a real pleasure.

I noticed a grandmotherly type woman working at the
stove, but since we were doing more of a running tour,
I didn't have time to speak with her.  I suppose
subconsciously I realized she was cooking, but it was
easy to dismiss.  I should have paid more attention to
her; it would have given me some forewarning.

I was almost as impressed with the study as I had been
the kitchen; actually the entire house had been very
impressive.   I made noises of appreciation over his
taste in literature.  I had no idea if he had actually
ever read any of the books lining his shelves, but it
was certainly an eclectic mix: Shakespeare to Stephen
King, it would be very hard not to find something to
enjoy there.

Finally, we entered the family room and I thought
right away that it would become Chad's favorite.  It
was a combination entertainment room, game room.
There was the obligatory big screen TV, with all the
electronic accoutrements that completed a state of the
art system.  The sound system was impressive, with
speakers' recessed and hidden through-out the room.
And if there was a game platform invented it was
proudly displayed.

Racks of CD's, DVD's, and Game's were alphabetized in
rows of techno color jewel cases that lined shelves
along one wall.  There were a couple of comfortable
looking recliners, and I could easily imagine the game
tournaments that must have taken place.

The expression, 'boys and their toys', might have been
created for that room.   There was also a pool table,
air hockey, ping pong table, and a nerf basketball
court.  It was obvious that the room was an addition
to the house, it was immense, but each area seemed to
have its own space which allowed for areas of
intimacy.

Whoever the architect and designer were, they had done
an amazing job.  One area flowed into the next, with
clear reasonable boundaries, but the openness one
first encountered when entering the room was
tastefully maintained.

All of this was ignored by Chad and Jesse, because the
room also was created with `little boys and their
toys' in mind.  A full scale play area had been
designed.  Toys of every description and size were
scattered, along with areas that would foster the
children's creativity.  Finger-paints, chalkboards,
and children books were on display.  It was a losing
battle trying to stop Chad as he squealed with delight
and ran for a nearby toy.

Smiling at Justin with a bit of self deprecation, I
shrugged my shoulders helplessly.  "I think they've
decided it's time to play," I said a bit of humor
evident in my voice.

"Yea, looks that way, let's leaves them to it for a
bit while we get your things inside and up to your
rooms."  Motioning for me to follow him, Justin led me
back down the hall.  Stopping at the kitchen, again,
he entered this time and introduced me to the woman
who was busily setting out glasses of milk and plates
of cookies.

"Helen this is Dylan Carlton, I told you he and his
brother would be living here.  Dylan this is Helen
Adams, grandmother to everyone, and the real boss of
the house," he said winking at me mischievously.

"Now there'll be none of that, Justin," she admonished
humorously as she pointed a chocolate milk covered
spoon at him.  "Don't you be thinking you're too old
to turn over my knee," she harrumphed.  Glancing at me
and smiling broadly she continued, "Welcome home, Mr.
Carlton, I hope and Chad will be happy here."

I nodded my head graciously at her and said, "Thanks,
Mrs. Adams, I'm sure we will be, and please, call me
Dylan."

"Of course dear, and you call me Helen or Bubbers,
everyone does!"

"Bubbers?"

"Jesse started it, I don't know why, that boy must
have decided I looked like a Bubbers, and it's stuck
ever since," she explained.

"Ok," I agreed hesitantly.

"Helen," Justin said interrupting us, "Dylan and I are
going to get their things out of the car, could you
keep an ear out on the two monsters?"

"Harrumph," she exclaimed!  "Monsters my eye.  I'll
just be taking them home with me if you're gonna be
calling those cuties monsters!"

"Of course I'll keep an eye out for em.  I was just
fixing to take them some milk and cookies anyways.
The two of you scoot and let an old woman get back to
work."

Since I'd sent most of our things ahead of us, there
were actually only a couple of suitcases to bring in.
Pulling them out of the back, I turned to Justin and
asked, "Where should I park the Jeep?"

"If you follow the drive around to the other side of
the house, you'll see a garage.  Just pull it there
for now.  We'll get you a garage door opener and you
can use one of the bays after this."

As I walked around to get back in the Jeep, I noticed
the other buildings on the property and turned to ask
Justin about them.  He was already headed back to the
house, so I filed my question away to ask later.  The
garage was impressive as the house, with four double
doors framed nicely with the same impressive brick
work that had been used on the house.  There was also
a basketball court here, and remembering some of the
things I'd read about Justin, I figured it wasn't just
for show.

Walking back to the front of the house, I stopped to
pick up the luggage that Justin hadn't grabbed and
headed back indoors.  Although he hadn't shown us our
rooms yet, I figured by process of elimination they
were upstairs.  That was the only place he hadn't
shown us.

I made my way tentatively down a hallway, slowing when
I heard a muffled voice.  Approaching quietly, I
realized Justin must be on the phone.

"Yeah, he's been here about an hour now."

"No, he seems really nice."

"He hasn't said anything so I'm not sure if he knows
who I am or not."

"No, he didn't ask what Helen's job was."

"Yeah, I know I'll have to explain it to him soon."

"Fuck Josh, I don't know!  I just thought we could get
to be friends and shit first before the fame and crap
got in the way."

"Yeah, Yeah, I know.  I'll tell him ok?"

"Listen, I better get off, he's probably looking for
me."

  I'm not proud of the fact I stood there and
eavesdropped.  But I defy any of you to suggest you
wouldn't have done the same.  This not knowing what
was going on was kind of fucked up, and this
conversation sort of helped clear up some of the
questions I had floating around in my head.  And it
made me feel guilty enough that I decided it was
stupid and immature to be playing these games and I
was going to let him know I knew who he was.

"Justin," I said confronting the issue head on, "how
long am I suppose to pretend I don't recognize who you
are?"

"Shit!" he exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," I said, "but it really seems pointless to
keep up this charade.  I'd have to have been living
under a rock not to recognize Justin Timberlake when I
met him.  If my knowing who you are is going to be a
problem, let's get it dealt with now."

"It's not a problem really," he said sighing.  "Come
on let me show you your room and we'll talk."

Pointing out the restroom that separated his room and
the next, he opened the door and gestured for me to
precede him into the room.  The room was cluttered
with the boxes I'd shipped ahead, but even with the
disorganized mess they created, I could tell the room
was as tastefully furnished as the rest of the house.
The full size bed looked comfortable, and for a minute
I considered asking Justin if we could postpone our
discussion while I took a nap.  The colors where warm
and inviting, shades of autumn, with rich golds, reds,
and browns.

Placing the luggage near the walk in closet, I turned
back to Justin, "Thanks Justin, this room is as
impressive as the rest of your house.  It's obvious a
lot of care and thought went into decorating."

"I have Chad set up to share a room with Jesse.  We
can move him to another room if you want, and we
definitely will as they get older, but I thought for
now it would be easier for them to bond if they
shared," Justin said as he moved to sit in a chair
that had been placed under the windows to catch the
sun.

Leaning back against the wall, I folded my arms and
searched Justin's face.  I'm not sure exactly what it
was I was looking for, maybe some sense of what he was
thinking.  "Will we still be staying?  It seems you
have this entire situation worked out.  But most of
your criteria seem to be predicated on the fact that I
not know who you are.  How long should I pretend that
I haven't recognized that you're Justin Timberlake?"

"I realize you have trust issues, Justin.  I mean I do
get that.  And I'm not saying those issues aren't
valid.  But starting a friendship within a framework
of deception just seems to me to be a recipe for
disaster.  Who is Helen?  Why were Chad and I really
invited to stay here?  What's really going on Justin?"

Sighing deeply, Justin rubbed his eyes for a moment.
He looked tired as he slumped back in his chair and
examined me.  "You know," he began, "I own a couple of
your paintings."

I looked at him in confusion, not sure exactly how
that was relevant to the conversation.  Nodding in
acknowledgement, I waited for him to continue.  "When
did you figure out who I was?" he asked.

"When we first arrived.  As soon as I saw you."

"Most of what we told you was the truth, Dylan.  It
wasn't that we were trying to lie to you exactly.  I
just wanted us to get a chance to get to know each
other without any preconceptions.  I was hoping I
could be your friend, not Justin Timberlake."

"I don't think anyone that doesn't live our life can
really understand what fame does to you.  It warps you
a little.  People telling you what they think you want
to hear, not necessarily what you should.  Pretending
to be your friend, when what they're really interested
in is record or movie deals.  You become jaded after
awhile."

"Your perspective changes and you begin to look at
everyone suspiciously.  You begin to see ulterior
motives in every conversation.  And you begin to
examine and second guess every interaction you have
with people you think are your friends."

"I admit not telling you who I was, asking Heather to
not tell you, was completely selfish of me.  But I was
getting desperate."

"I wasn't lying when I told you I wanted Jesse to have
as normal a life as possible.  Unfortunately, my
celebrity status has been fucking with that.  Parents
are forcing their children to play with and be nice to
Jesse because of who I am.  It's not healthy for him,
it's not healthy for them, and I haven't known how to
fix it."

"How is this situation really any different?" I asked.
 "I mean you completely orchestrated this for the
express purpose of introducing them so they would
become `best buds'.  Aren't you just as guilty of
forcing or scripting a situation as those other
parents are?"

"I admit I set up the meeting," he conceded, "but I
have no intention of forcing them to do anything.  I
hope they become great friends.  But if they don't,
they don't."

"Won't that be awkward?  Having us live here if they
don't take to each other?"

"Dylan, they're three.  I'm sure they are going to get
into some arguments, but what are the chances they
won't play together, won't become friends?  They are
going to be friends."

"Which brings us right back to the original question,
how is this any different than what those other
parents were doing?"  I asked.

"Shit!  It's not is it?  I've just been kidding
myself.  Fuck!"  He exclaimed as he stood up and began
pacing.

"Justin, calm down.  It's not that bad.  Demented and
sad..."

"Hey you stole that line from Breakfast Club," he said
turning to interrupt me.

"Busted," I agreed as I laughed with him.

"Unfortunately, it's also true.  God, how does
everything get so fucked up?  Dylan, you have to
believe me, my motives where altruistic when I came up
with this scheme.  I really did think it solved both
of our problems."

"Why us?" I asked.  "I believe you, but why Chad and
I?"

"I told you I owned a couple of your paintings.  I
know this is completely insane, but I can relate to
something in your works.  Visually, they are how I
think music would look if it could be quantified in
that medium.  I just felt anyone that could do that
kind of work was someone I wanted to know.  I hoped
you would be someone that could understand me and my
work."

"Justin, about Jesse, I don't remember ever hearing
about a son."

"It's a long story, and I promise, we'll get into it
at some point, but let's get this mess cleared up
first."

"Ok," I agreed changing the subject.  "How did you get
Heather to go along with this?  How did you and she
meet?"

"You haven't pieced together who she is?"

"No, not really.  Should I have?"

"Heather Chasez?  Sister of Josh Chasez?  JC Chasez?
`N Sync?"

"Ok, smartass," I said pretending to ignore his
laughter, "that still doesn't explain how you got her
to go along with this."

"I'm not sure if I can explain it so you can
understand.  Hell I don't know if I understand."

"Heather has talked about you a lot over the last few
years.  I know she's your friend, but beyond that,
she's also a fan.  She's consistently hawking your
accomplishments when she's home, keeping us informed
of your latest achievements, showing your press
clippings from one of your shows.  You should
seriously consider hiring her for public relations.
She certainly has no compunction about bragging about
you."

"She was worried about losing you.  Afraid that if you
moved to Colorado your friendship would fade over
time.  You know she loves you right?  But more than
that, she respects you."

"She told me you'd see right through this.  She didn't
give it a snowball's chance in hell of working.  But
what did she have to lose?  You were already moving to
Colorado.  The worse that could happen would be that
you still moved to Colorado after figuring out we'd
manipulated you a bit."

"And you don't need me to cook do you?  That's Helen's
job isn't it?  Does she even know I was scheduled to
invade her kitchen?"

Blushing bright red, Justin turned away to look out
the window.  I felt bad that he was embarrassed, being
caught in a lie sucked, but I still didn't know how he
figured he'd get away with it.

"No, she just knows you both lost your parents.  I
guess I just figured I'd be keeping you so busy you
wouldn't have time to think much about cooking."

"How'd you plan to do that?"

"I cleared out one of the offices next door to set up
a studio for you to paint in.  I figured between the
boys and painting, cooking would be pushed on the back
burner."

"And I wasn't kidding when I said the cavalry would be
descending tomorrow.  Chris, Joey, JC, and Lance are
all planning on showing up in the afternoon to meet
you.  And my mom is stopping by for lunch."

"Checking up on me to make sure I'm not a
mass-murderer," I said smiling at him as I recounted
the question I'd asked during our very first telephone
conversation.

"Something like that, at least in mom's case.  The
guy's just wanna meet you.  See if you're at all like
the person Heather's been describing all these years."

Looking around at all of the unpacked boxes Justin had
placed in the room I came to a decision.  "Look
Justin, I'm gonna be honest with you.  I don't like
that you and Heather tried to manipulate me.  But I
guess in a warped sort of twilight zone way it makes
sense.  So..."

"Ummm... Well, I guess we can give this a try.  I'm not
sure if Chad and I will be able to fulfill this
expectation you seem to have.  This may fail simply
because you have expectations, expectations that you
can't even quantify.  But I understand what you've
been trying to say.  And like you said once before, if
it doesn't work out, Colorado is still going to be
there."

"Just so we are straight from this point on.  No more
lies.  I don't care which one of us it is.  If we
can't agree to be honest with each other, then this is
a complete bust and Chad and I will just be moving
along."

"Deal," Justin said as he rushed over and grabbed me
in a quick hug.  "Now come on dude.  You have to see
Chad and Jesse's room.  He's gonna love it!"