Date: Sat, 23 Dec 2000 07:07:37 -0000
From: Dave McGrath <dragon_reborn88@hotmail.com>
Subject: Utopia (chapter 8)

   This story is purely fictional and it's not suggesting anything about the
sexuality of either N'Sync or Backstreet Boys. I'm not trying to imply that
either one of the band members is bisexual or homosexual. I also do not
suggest this story to anyone who is offended by erotic homosexual stories or
who is under the age of eighteen.

            ******************************************

   Stumbling up the stairs, Lance almost tripped and fell flat on his face
more than once. Luckily, Joey was right behind him, holding him up every
time Lance tried to fly up the stairs. Right behind Chris, I had no urge to
run faster. If some type of accident happened right then, or if that Justin
person just happened to die the same day I got there... I shivered at the
thought. Of course, no one could blame me for anything. After all, they were
all right there with me when someone's yell startled us. But still, the
whole thing would be too much publicity... my name would come up. If these
guys were a band like they claimed to be, then it was un-excepable.
All of the sudden I realized where my thoughts took me. Cursing myself, I
tried hurrying after Chris as much as I could without actually stepping on
him. Nice bodyguard would I make. Supposedly protecting a person, but
already planning an escape if the person died. The truth is, I didn't want
him to die... whoever he was. At that point, Justin was my only way of
surviving, with the things being the way they were.
Panting like he ran a marathon, Lance stumbled through a long hallway, and
almost broke the last door on the right rushing through them. Joey and Chris
ran in after him, and I stepped in last, careful not to attract too much
attention. As long as they didn't all stare at me like they wanted me dead,
I had enough time to scan the whole situation. The same second I stepped
into the room, I took notice of the temperature which had to be close to 70.
The large bed had at least 5 blankets on it... and maybe just as many
pillows. The plate with something that was probably called a 'healthy lunch'
and in the truth was overcooked vegetables, laid untouched next to the bed,
with glass of milk. The rest of the room looked untouched too... like no one
really lived in there. Then I saw JC trying to wrap a blanket around a tall
blonde boy. The boy kept trying to shake him off and push him away, but I
assumed that JC was not so easy to get rid of. The boy turned around, and I
the ground under my feet disappeared. It was the angel... my dream... my
fantasies... everything became such a blur that I couldn't figure what was a
reality, what memory, and what a dream. Then his eyes went past Lance and
the other guys... and I felt my face burning. Before I could curse at myself
again for acting like 13-year old schoolgirl, he smiled widely, and pushing
startled JC out of his way, started towards me. Lance was trying to grab
JC's arm and get his attention:
"JC... what happened? What was that yell about?..."
JC spoke clearly, but from the nervous beating of my heart in my ears, his
voice seemed like a distant murmur:
"He was sitting on a open window... apparently, he just wanted some air, but
it looked... it just looked..."
He didn't have to say more. The others understood him perfectly. It looked
like Justin was about to jump off. The small thought flashed in my mind
'Perfect mess I got myself into... handling suicidal children'. But Justin
was far from a child. He was incredibly beautiful boy, with hair like gold
and eyes deep as only the ocean can be. His smile blinded me... literary
blinded me so I couldn't see anything beyond his face. On the verge of
shaking my head to clear up my mind, I knew I had to do something...
anything that will stop me from just standing there and gaping at him. So I
smiled, and said as calmly as I could manage:
"You must be Justin. I'm Kevin... it's good to finally meet you."
His smile grew warmer, if that was even possible, and he extended his hand:
"The pleasure is all mine Kevin... I'm glad you're finally here. I hope no
one gave you any trouble."
Accepting a handshake, I looked quickly over to JC and Chris; they were both
looking somewhere else, or maybe pretending they didn't hear. Returning a
smile, I cleared my throat:
"No, no one gave me any trouble."
When I let go of his hand, I could have screamed at myself. No matter how
composed I managed to look and sound, that still didn't change the fact that
my hands were unusually cold and shaky. When a quick flash of surprise flew
over his eyes, I knew he noticed it too. It disappeared as fast as it came
though, and his eyes were back to their comforting warmth.
Pushing my hands back into my pockets- I didn't want to risk anyone else
noticing my nervousness- I felt a twinge of sadness. There was this guy,
this boy, who barely even knew me... and the things he knew were my biggest
life mistakes. And what does he do when I show up at his door? He greats me
with a warm smile and an open heart... something people I had grown up with
never did.
If Lance hadn't cleared his throat, I would have never noticed him standing
next to us:
"Listen Justin... since I assumed that Kevin will be staying here... at
least for a while... I thought that maybe, you know, since JC has been so
stressed out lately... that maybe Kevin could work as a bodyguard. If that's
ok with you of course."
I expected Justin to be shocked with the idea... or at least surprised if
nothing. However, he just stood there with his expression barely changing,
like he already had the same thought. JC didn't share Lance's opinion. His
sharp voice echoed the walls seeming to grow louder with ever sentence:
"Bodyguard?! You want him in the same room with Justin? Are you out of your
mind?! Every time I think you are done with your idiotic ideas, you manage
to come up with something even more absurd!..."
Justin's smile disappeared, and he turned to face JC. I could see his hands
stopped half-way from forming fists, and his voice had a dangerous edge to
it:
"Don't you think this is my choice JC? Maybe next time, you won't be so fast
when walking up to my room... you wouldn't like to see that window open
again, would you?"
It seemed like the air in the room all of the sudden grew cold to the point
of freezing. Joey dropped on the edge of the bed, his eyes large and scared,
while Chris was simply gaping at Justin with his mouth half-open. Lance's
reaction was probably the strangest one; he moved as if to take a hold of
Justin's hand, but stopped himself the same second... his eyes flickered
from guilt, to pain, to the worst misery I have ever seen. His face seemed
to lose the last drop of blood from it. JC took a second to recover from
shock, while voice was still angry with a touch of desperation in it:
"Justin, listen to me... he's a murderer!..."
As soon as those words were out of his mouth, I could see the drastic change
of everyone's expression. All eyes turned to JC... eyes full of shock and
disbelief, and for the first time, I was sure it wasn't because of me.
I didn't even make an attempt to understand any of it. Eventually, I would
know more then they would even want me to, and more then they could ever
think possible. But I enjoyed watching their expressions which gave away
almost everything about their personalities.
At JC's words, Lance seemed to turn even whiter, while his eyes now burned
with contempt and shock:
"You bastard! How can you even!..."
Justin waved for him to be quiet, and Lance's mouth snapped shut. But the
hate in his eyes didn't lessen, in fact, it seemed to grow with every
second. I couldn't look away from Lance no matter how hard I tried. From his
usual coldness, I already figured that I'd live and die without ever seeing
a 10th of the emotions he carries inside. Seeing him this upset was
something I would have never expected. That urge to hug him and hold him
seemed to grow stronger, despite the fact that to him, my existence in the
room was long forgotten. Forcing myself to look away, I focused my eyes on
Justin.
He just stood there like a statue, without the slightest sign that he felt
anything. His eyes stared through the walls.
JC looked like man who committed the worst crime in the world, and was
regretting it with his whole being. His voice was barely audible:
"Justin... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..."
Justin's voice, emotionless as his face, cut him off:
"Forget it... I want you all to leave. Now. I want to talk to Kevin."
I had a feeling what he wanted to talk to me about, and I knew it had to
happen sooner or later. Bitterly realizing that I had hoped it wouldn't
happen at all, I knew I had no idea what to say to him.
Not even noticing the rest of the guys quietly leave the room, I was once
again mad at myself. Since the first moment I walked into that house, I have
been more confused, irritated, and softhearted then in all of my life.
Whether that was Justin's fault or not, I couldn't afford to lose control
over myself.
Still when the door closed shut and I realized Justin and I were alone, all
of my thoughts seemed to simply disappear in thick fog through which I could
helplessly search for days, without finding anything of any use.
Justin turned to face me again, and smiled. It was still warm and
comforting, but his blue eyes were in pain, and he seemed to be doing his
best to hide it. Pushing his fingers through the golden curls, he gestured
towards the chair... or perhaps towards the bed:
"Make yourself comfortable."

              ***************************************

   The plane started taking off as soon as Brian sat down. With his head
in-between his knees, he whispered a soft prayer with his hands griping each
other until they turned white. When the plane finally straightened, Brian
picked up his head. His face was white, and eyes wide, attempting not to be
scared. He hated flying... he hated everything that involved not having
strong ground under his feet.
Desperately trying to avoid looking through the small window on his left, he
shut his eyes and tried to sleep. Since the flight was barely 45 minutes
long, it would give him the time to rest before he faced his enemy. Enemy he
needed to kill... to kill mercilessly, like he killed Brians brother.
Brian's mind wandered away... from ways to kill Kevin, from ways to torture
Kevin... to make him beg for mercy...
Brian couldn't see it though... he could still feel that warmth of body
pressed against him, and the kiss so soft and gentle that he would beg for
more.
Almost screaming at himself, Brian shook his head quickly and opened his
eyes. Tears streamed like diamonds down his tanned face, and his hands shook
violently. Whispering to the window, he still cried:
"I'm sorry Daniel... I'm sorry... don't worry he will die... he will die..."
And at that, the sobs were unstoppable.

         ************************************************

   April quickly pulled her long hair into a pony tail, and throwing on the
biggest sweater she could find, she grabbed her three bags and taking a deep
breath, opened the door of her room.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
Her father was in front of a fireplace, with Wall Street Journal spread
across his knees. His face was still cruel, but tired... exhausted.
April looked him straight in the eyes and spoke in the strongest voice she
could find:
"I'm moving out."
He looked at her over the large reading glasses. With his face serious for a
moment, it seemed like he's not sure if this is really happening. Then he
laughed, and laughed, and laughed... When he found words, they were
something April never expected:
"You can leave, but if you do, you're not my daughter any more."
Staring at him through the hair that fell out of the pony tail, she
smiled... like someone had said a very good joke, and then she walked by
him. He never said anything, not even when she left and closed the door
behind her. Staring at the space for a minute, he yawned and continued
reading the Newspaper.

   April walked miles to the first gas station, where she fell asleep in the
bathroom... the next day, she was offered a ride with one of the younger
truckers, and having no direction or care in the world, she accepted.
Climbing into the large truck, April shoved her stuff in the back, and asked
while fixing the radio station in the car:
"Where are we going?"
Trucker, Nick, just smiled while his eyes glittered:
"Home... Cape Cod.... I'm going home."
The smile split his face and April grinned back taking her shoes off... then
curled up in front seat.
The truck left an hour later... April grinned all along the way whispering
to herself:
"Home, I'm gonna have new life... I'm gonna have a new life!... I'm gonna
have home!!!"

                                End Of Chapter 8