Date: Fri, 08 Feb 2002 01:59:13 +0000
From: Christopher Barrett <aliens_in_your_horizon@hotmail.com>
Subject: Something Like Justin Chapter 8

I wanna go watch Gosford Park!!  Ryan Phillippe rocks, as an actor, and as
a man.  I think I may be portraying him a bit superior in this, but that's
kinda poetic license and fairly important to the story, so don't go
thinking that's what I think of the man!  Reese W is a lucky woman.

Thank you so much to all mo bitches and ho's who emailed me (heavy irony
there).  Sorry, but Ja Rule has somehow possessed me; Can't blame me
really, can you?  I mean; he can even make J Lo sound good...

Disclaimer: The personalities and sexualities of the characters mentioned
are created solely for the mechanisms of this story and in no way are
intended to reflect those of the actual celebrities themselves.  I don't
know any of the celebrities, no matter how much I would like to (would I?
They may turn out to be awful people...).

Don't go reading this piece of self-obsessed, sappy nonsense if you don't
like M/M relationships, sex, his and his bathrobes, girls with curly blonde
hair, boys with curly blond (ish) hair or everyone's favourite leading man,
Justin Timberlake.


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

Something Like Justin Chapter 8- Trials

My eyes broke slowly open, the lids heavy and dry with sleep and
exhaustion.  The world of my dreams faded quickly away as the brutal
reality shocked through my system to the melody of Emily shaking my
shoulder.

"Chris!" The words were hammers to my eardrums, "Chris!  Wake up."

I mumbled a list of vague protestations, but she firmed her grip on my
flesh.

"We were worried, Chris." I opened my eyes fully, allowing her form to
resolve into some kind of coherent memory.

"Huh?" I groaned, stretching my aching neck and longing for the residing
protection of my duvet and sheets.

"We were worried yesterday." She released my shoulder, realising that I was
showing some kind of cooperation "Ryan came round with your theatre
ticket."

"Oh, shit." I cursed, pressing a hand to my head, "I forgot."

"He just said that something had come up.  He seemed really upset." Emily
sighed, "I thought that you'd had a fight.  I was worried that you may have
done something stupid."

"What am I going to do?" I reflected.

"So what happened?" Emily shifted herself to a sitting position on my bed,
crossing her legs and pushing her hair away from her face.

"Justin appeared, saw Ryan and I, got shocked, walked away, I went after
him, and we went to the funfair."

"Justin saw you two?  Together, you mean?"

"Holding hands.  We looked 'together'."

"God.  What did he say?" Emily wondered aloud, "He must be alright with it
'cause you're not kinda hurt or anything."

"It seemed to freak him out a little," I considered, "But he calmed down in
the end."

"You went to the funfair?" Emily said as if she had only just remembered
what a funfair was.

"Yep.  Candyfloss and everything." I stretched my arms elaborately out to
my sides, creasing my eyes and yawning.

"You weren't home before twelve!" Emily gasped.

"Well, we found a seat and talked some." I strained to remember, "And time
sort of flew by."

"I wonder how he found you?" Emily mused aloud.

"I don't know; must have just been in the district.  Anyway, you must know
that he'd be around, 'cause Chris was coming to LA with him.  Hasn't he
called?"

"Oh, he called, but not from LA." Her voice was tight, like she was
suppressing anger.

"Where from?" I probed.

"Orlando" Emily said moodily, "They finished some recording they needed to
do and were visiting family.  Justin got all melodramatic the other day and
said he was going to see friends."

"He didn't tell them where he was going?"

"No." She furthered, "They even called Britney to see if he'd flown to the
UK."

"Fuck." I expressed, "He seemed fine last night."

"Well, he's pissed a lot of people off with his trip." Emily complained, "I
wish that cunt would consider thinking of other people sometimes."

"Emily!" I cried out, "He's my friend.  Don't be so fucking mean, okay?"

"Look Chris, I know that you can't help seeing the good in him, whatever
that is, but maybe you should try seeing him for what he is."

"I do."

"You don't." Emily stood abruptly, "You see Justin as being perfect.  Admit
it; you can't see his faults because you're so in love with his image."

"I think I've known him long enough to see beyond that." I argued.

"Just don't be surprised if he really disappoints you one day, 'cause it's
bound to happen."

The conversation was ended bluntly with the staccato whine of the door
hinges as it was opened and closed.

Slipping out from the elegant, dream-soiled covers and shivering briefly as
my balmy flesh was raped of its heat by the morning chill; I prepared
myself for the day.  The icy embrace of the shower roused me completely
from sleep complacency, triggering my nerves to take action.  The baggy,
tan skate pants and the comforting, long sleeved, charcoal tee seemed
inoffensive and apologetic enough, and engulfing my stubborn, fluffy hair
under the tight grasp of my Yankees cap I had purchased on first sighting
in NY completed the placid, mildly regretful image.

I avoided Emily as best I could as I exited the house after calling for a
cab, telling Joe where I was headed and refusing an offer of support.
Thanks Joe.  Stephanie shared the ride with me into the city, hoping to do
a bit of window-shopping and pick up a few newspapers to search for news on
our latest release.  Steph was a bit of a news-hound.  Taking a bus into
the streets I had wandered yesterday with Justin, I prepared my 'make-up
with Ryan' speech.

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

"Chris." There was a mild surprise in his voice.  His beautiful voice,
"Hey, I wasn't expecting you."

"Yeah, right." I smiled apologetically, "After yesterday?  I'm sorry about
the theatre..." I held out my small collection of Tony's café tableware
and decorations, "But I thought we could start again where we left of?"

Taking a packet of sugar from me he smiled, eyes on the small square
between his fingers.

"How did you...?"

"Oh, mild case of kleptomania." I shrugged.

"Chris?  What if someone saw you?" Ryan scolded, moving to let me enter the
house.

"If someone had seen me, I could be doing a 'Winona Ryder'." I grinned,
"But thank god we went to that café and not Macdonald's; I doubt I could
fit the huge, lighted menu board under my t shirt."

"You could of brought the food as well." He scowled childishly; taking me
into his arms anyway, "I miss all that salt and additives."

"Maybe you'll just have to substitute..."

Then, I kissed him.  Quick, soft, fleeting, you could say, but it was a
kiss.  And it was me who initiated it.

"Hmm..." He smirked, leaning back slightly and studying me intricately, "I
think I'll stick with the substitute."

"I was hoping you'd say that." He dove in for another, impatient kiss.
"Well," I continued, "I'm yours for the day!"

"Lucky me."

"I am sorry; about running off." I watched him cautiously; "I was just a
bit split between going off and having a good time with you and letting
Justin fester, or sorting out Justin and making it up to you."

"And you thought it would be easier making up with me?" He frowned, but
smiled shortly, "Is that a good thing?"

"I hope so." I leaned towards him, resting our foreheads together, "It's
certainly more enjoyable."

The trees hung over the ground, suspending their fluttering banners of
green over the occupied thoughts and dreams of passers-by, leaves flushed
green and new, waxy and thick-veined.  The streets heaved with inhabitants,
clicking their heels over the chessboards of paving stones, littering the
sidewalk and their lives.  The dusty eyes of the café viewed this
ignorance and sufferance, minus two acrylic salt and pepper shakers, one
miniature, china vase, two sets of industrial cutlery and a laminated,
nicotine stained menu.

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

The nightlights strewn disparately on the broad, wooden surface of the
porch, threw their diminutive, honey light in pockets about our kneeling,
slouching and prostrate forms; the space between and around us littered
sparsely with the greasy lipped cartons of Chinese takeout.  The puckish,
sesame seed flavours rose to our nostrils and stroked our tongues with
their memory as the light faded fast.

"...And so he began to take off his cords," Emily paused, diving into the
cardboard container with plastic chopsticks, "And I kinda lay there
waiting, y'know, playing with my hair and urging him to get 'the fuck on
with it'..."

"If he was that good-looking, I doubt I would have wanted to rush
things..."  Ashley mused, dipping a broken twig into some wax that had
spilled out of the aluminium case.

"...And he took these cords off, and..." Cue break out of hysterics for a
moment as we all sat patiently, "Y-fronts."

"No!" I gasped, looking at her agog.

"And he was our age?" Stephanie giggled shortly.

"What did you do?" I furthered.

"The sensible thing..." Emily grinned, "Got him out of them as soon as
possible."

"Oh my God." I laughed.

"Well, the merchandise was great, it was just that particular piece of
packaging." Emily laughed.

"I have no idea what I'd have done." I offered.

"Get on and do some practising should the occasion arise!" Emily urged,
"Ryan's the perfect start."

"I guess he is." I blushed.

"Don't feel pressurized though." Stephanie reassured, shooting Emily a
glare.

"Oh, I forget; Chris is saving himself for Justin, isn't he?" Emily
deadpanned.

"Um...Where did Joe say he was going?" Ash suddenly jumped in; eager to
dispel any murky signs leading towards an argument.

"Some club with an actress." I shrugged, "He was being a bit secretive."

"Don't forget smug too." Steph giggled, "I reckon he's bagged a movie
star!"

"What Joe?" Emily laughed, "I'm not sure he's capable..."

"Hey!  Don't put down the little man!" I frowned, grinning throughout,
"He's like Brad Pitt or something!"

I received unanimous looks of disbelief.

"I got a movie star." I shrugged, "He could."

"Yeah," Ash laughed, "Thinking about it, if Chris got one; we all could."

"I'm aiming for Johnny Depp." Emily sighed, then stuttered quickly, "If, of
course, Chris and I don't work out; I meant."

"Almost slipped up there." Stephanie laughed.

"I know; but it's hard." Emily whined theatrically, plunging her fingers
into her hair and throwing her head forward.

The laughter petered out as we fished for scraps in our takeout.  After a
few minutes, Ash straightened up importantly and cleared her throat
noisily,

"Uh..." She coughed, "I've got something to say...?"  She looked cautiously
at us three.

"Don't tell me you're gay too." I sighed heavily to alleviate the oddly
formal atmosphere that had rapidly descended on us.

"No..." Ash laughed lightly, "I'm not."

"So, what is it?" Stephanie frowned.

"I...I've been thinking about..." She breathed deeply, "...about leaving
the band."

"Huh?" I dropped the carton and chopsticks.

"Leaving?" Emily choked lightly, "Why?"

"Um...I don't want you to get the wrong idea..." Ash paused, "I mean, I
love working with you all, I mean; you're my friends and stuff."

"What is it then?" Emily narrowed her eyes at her, "You're not thinking
about going solo, are you?"

"No!" Ash said quickly, "No, well...I've thought about it; I mean, we all
have at some stage...right?"

We all nodded in agreement, although Emily stared coldly at her.

"It's...this sounds really stupid, but I just can't take it." She closed
her eyes, "I can't take the fact that everyone knows my name and that I'm
in magazines and they all want something from me and I just hate feeling
like a product."

"Whoa." I said quietly.

"I'm sorry; I mean, you invited me in the band and everything, when you
didn't have to..." She sniffed a bit, "But it's not me; this isn't me."

"But you're so good, Ash." I sighed.

"Like I said, it's not because I don't enjoy the work, or because I'm
worried about how good we are -we are all good at this- but I just can't
live like this."

"You knew it would be like this though, didn't you?" Steph probed gently,
"When you agreed to do this; you knew what could happen."

"I thought I'd be able to cope." Ash added quietly, "It started off as a
bit of fun, you know; for us."

"It still is, isn't it?" I questioned.

"No, it isn't." She gulped, "Chris, we are professional
musicians...performers; whatever.  This is our life, okay?  This is our
job." She shrugged, "I can't do this all the time."

"So, what are you going to do?" Steph asked in a low voice.

"I was thinking about going back to England and doing my degree."

I considered what she was saying.  It seemed to make sense; she didn't ask
to be in our band, and she had already foreseen herself going to university
and doing English- hell, the university had asked her to go, she was that
good.  I couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't said before.

"Nobody will know me as part of the band there." Ash furthered, "So I won't
get any hassle."

"You've got this all planned out then?" Emily inquired in a monotone.

"Not completely; I wanted to tell you all when I was sure that this was
what I wanted to do before I started finalising things."

"There's nothing we can say to make you stay?" I pleaded.

"No.  I've tried this, and I just don't like it.  I'm sorry."

"It's okay..." I smiled briefly, "At least you told us.  And if you aren't
happy, then you shouldn't stay."

"We're going to have to get a replacement." Emily said sharply, "I mean;
people are going to notice this...and Ashley will have to make a statement
about why she is leaving the band." She sighed, "And just after our single
release.  People are going to think this is some kind of publicity stunt."

"We could keep it quiet for a while." Steph mused aloud, "We could look
around for a replacement in the meantime."

"That's not very honest though, is it?" I complained.

"No...But Em's got a point." Steph intoned, "It does seem like a publicity
stunt."

"I am really sorry." Ash sighed.

"Chris said it; it's okay, Ash." Steph smiled, "It's not like we'll never
see you again, is it?"

"Guess not." Ash grinned.

"We're going to have to do auditions discreetly..." Emily voiced.

"Auditions don't seem the best thing." I frowned, "When we formed the band,
we didn't audition each other."

"You found me." Steph grinned.

"We could find someone else." Emily rolled the concept around on her
tongue, "Joe's got some contacts..."

"See?" I said brightly to Ash, "We're gonna be fine!"

"I am sorry."

"Let's get this cleared up before Joe gets back..." Emily urged quickly,
"We don't want his girlfriend thinking we're complete slobs."

The shuffling of cardboard and frequent, mournful sniffs painted the small
area as we gathered together the rubbish and relocated ourselves inside.

The girls went to bed as I elected myself to be the one to stay up and wait
for Joe to get home.  After a far too long session of watching poorly
funded medical dramas, Joe finally stumbled giddily into the hall.  I
didn't get to see his date as she just waved from the expensive convertible
and rolled away into the darkness.  Joe was okay about it; reckoned that he
had noticed her getting more and more dissatisfied with the promotional
work we were doing, and the focus that many magazines put on her.  We sat
up late, lazily glancing at the heinous offerings of the blinking TV, and
talking sporadically about the changes we could expect.

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

Morning brought the joy of sleeping in, as Emily, Stephanie and Joe were
going to do the promotional engagements that day, so I pressed lovingly to
the crumpling caress of my sheets and dreamed for England.  That is until a
corrosive buzzing wrecked my thoughts of grey skies, pebbly beaches, pork
pies and Eastenders.  Reluctantly, I dragged my stubborn body to the front
door in the jogging bottoms and way too big t- shirt that I had pulled from
my closet.

"Hey!" Justin grinned, then faltered, "Oh...Sorry."

"No, no it's fine." I waved my arms in the air, "Just ruin my day off why
don't you?"

His eyes seemed to dissolve somewhat and the lower eyelids became heavy,
his bottom lip falling slightly.  I forced a smile, then coughed,

"I was joking."

"Oh!" He laughed, "Can I come in?"

"Yes, of course." I spluttered, standing back to let him shake off his
jacket and kick off his shoes, "You have the day off too?"

"Um...yeah." He shifted his eyes.

"I heard that you took a bit of an unplanned vacation." I announced with
heavy intonation.

"Err...you heard, then?" He scratched the back of his neck.

"Yeah." I plodded back towards my room, up the stairs, "Just one thing;
why?"

He was standing at the bottom of the staircase, looking awkwardly around
himself.

"Are you gonna come on up?" I laughed.

"Where's everyone else?" He shot back.

"Oh, promotional stuff, and Ash has gone into town."

"Um...Err...Can I go get something to eat?  Man, I'm starved." He said
unconvincingly.

"Sure; help yourself.  I'll go get changed and then we can resume our
talk."

As I stood under the onslaught of the shower, I thought over Justin's
apparent unease about coming upstairs with me.  Maybe he didn't want to
talk about why he had left Orlando so suddenly.  Then again, he couldn't
get out of that by going into the kitchen.  He must still have had some
issues with finding out that I was gay, and found being alone with me
difficult.  He had asked where everyone else was before answering me.
Shrugging the subject off as I dressed, I returned to find him sitting on a
stool with a piece of toast held delicately between his fingers.

"Starved?" I raised my eyebrows, "If you satisfy starvation with toast
don't go offering to work for the UN or anything." I laughed.

"I can't cook." He rolled his eyes at me adding quickly, "And don't offer
to, because I didn't come here to eat."

"Fine." I sniffled slightly, sorting out some cereal for myself.

Once I had prepared my breakfast, I sat down next to him, even though he
insisted on jabbing me in the ribs every so often as a 'joke'.  At least he
was being normal.  Normal in his world at any rate...

"Are you going to tell me why you just took off?" I said exasperated after
the latest round of jabbing.

"Aw!  Do I?" He giggled, stealing a fruit loop from the bowl.

"Yes, you do." I sighed, "Justin, you can't just take off like that; you've
got responsibilities..."

"Whoa!  Where did you come from?" He cocked an eyebrow at me, "I thought I
was talking to Chris, not my mother."

"I'm sorry...no I'm not." I said firmly, "I don't understand why you'd do
that."

"I don't know." He shrugged, "they were all being so...so..." He tasted the
air for suggestions, "So..."

"What?" I encouraged.

"I think they all hate me."

"Oh, god, J..." I put a hand hesitantly onto his shoulder, "I'm sure they
don't."

"They do...they will anyways." He grumbled.

"Why?" I pressed.

"Because...because, I don't know why.  They just do."

"What have they said?"

"Nothing.  They don't talk to me." He whined.

"They don't.  That's why you think they don't like you?"

"Yup." His bottom lip pushed out more, emphasizing its bountiful curve and
revealing a tiny scrap of the moist, fragile tissues of his mouth.

"But..." I swallowed, forcing myself to look elsewhere.  I started counting
the hairs on his sideburns, "But they must have talked to you; you've been
doing those recordings and shit."

"Yeah.  I mean they talk to me, but they don't want to listen to me.  Get
me?"

"I think so...but what's bothering you?" I shrugged, "I know that I haven't
known you for very long, but if there's something on your mind, I am
willing to listen."

"No." He said quickly, and then stammered, "No...no, thanks.  It's not
really anything," He laughed loudly, "Just stuff.  You know.  Not anything
in particular."

"Have you initiated anything?" I ventured, "Like, have you said that you
need to talk?"

"Um...no." He confessed reluctantly.

"Maybe you should." I wetted my lips, "You know, people can't always tell
when something's wrong, and if you want to get it sorted..."

"You have to say what's wrong.  I know." He said glumly.

Early spring.  The daffodils had only just begun to break open their dusty
buds to flash yellow collars and sunset trumpets at the roadsides.  The
morning was bright, even though it was still relatively early as the
condensation dribbled down the planes of the windows and the dustcarts
coughed their weekly procession through the narrow streets.  I sat in my
worn bathrobe at the kitchen table, my head bent, my eyes screwed tightly
closed, hovering over the neglected coffee mug as my tears, held prisoners
for so long, were soaking into my sleeves, as my father stood ominously
before, repeating over and over again,

"We can't help you until you tell us what is wrong."

Nothing was wrong, except me, but they didn't understand that.

"Chris?" The American accent, the soft word and the sculptured pitch
reached into my dream and fished me out.

Justin inspected my face with his absorbing, blue eyes.  His light pink
lips, with that swagger of shine on the lower one, were contorting slightly
to one side in confusion and his brow furrowed mildly.  Don't be beautiful.

"You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." I exhaled loudly, "Just day-dreaming."

"Bad dream." He stressed, putting a hand to my face and brushing at the
wetness collected around my tear ducts.

Beautiful.

"Ryan didn't mind." I said sharply, clearing my throat of the awkward
phlegm.

"What?" Justin's mouth opened a fraction as he chewed on my words. Taking
his hand from me, he said tiresomely, "Oh...right."

"He was a bit pissed off though."

"Yeah..." Justin yawned lightly, "Do you wanna go out someplace?"

"Err...yeah, sure.  Where did you want to go?"

"I don't know..." He swivelled his eyes up to the ceiling as he debated
silently, "Wanna try and beat me at basketball?"

"What do you mean?  Try?" I scoffed with mock arrogance.

"Oh yeah buddy?  You think you can beat me?" He punched me excitedly on the
bicep.

"Think?" I slid off the stool, "I know it, Stinky."

"Oh, don't go calling me that."

"Why does she call you that?  Is it 'cause you stink at basketball or is
it...?" I leaned towards him and primly sniffed at the air, before racing
off, "Oh, now I know."

"Hey!" He set off after me out of the house, "You take that back!" He
caught up with me as I leant back against his car, "You take that back!
You're the one who stinks; I bet you sweat like a pig!"

He rounded the car to open his door.

"I bet you could make me." I curtly moistened my bottom lip and let my gaze
travel down his torso before I swung into the vehicle.

He halted and coughed out a laugh, before settling himself robotically into
the driver's seat and turning to stare at me.

"Come on!" I grinned, "Let's get going!"

"Yes sir-ee!" He whistled and pulled away from the house.

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

End of Chapter...err...eight?  Yep, I was right.

Okay, good, bad or ugly.  You decide.

(Email me and tell me or I'll make Justin a eunuch! LOL)

Kris