Date: Thu, 25 Nov 1999 19:32:50 -0800 (PST)
From: Dave McGrath <dragon_reborn77@yahoo.com>
Subject: Utopia

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

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

   The screaming of the people was unbearable. I felt
like my mind is gonna blow, and like I can't control
anything any more. The dark face in front of me had a
huge winning grin on it, while the sharp black eyes
evily laughed at me. He knew that he about to win and
that there was no way for me to pull myself together.
The music was beating in my throat and hundreds of
pairs of anticipating eyes were staring at me,
expecting me to do something, to put on a show or at
least lose with some honor. The pain in my leg was
blinding me while the whole world was spinning and
spinning without control. That was what I desperately
needed; control. It was out of my reach though, and
only thing I was able to feel is pain and heat that
slowly started growing. Need to win was gone and the
blinding anger suddenly shoot through my body like a
wild storm ready to kill. I got my strength back
within minutes and I was ready to face him, together
with everything else that was thrown at me. Everything
around me was in the fog and I knew that I was losing
even that little piece of control that I had. I was
able to to see his face clearly though, and I focused
on it. I hated it, I wanted to smash it, destroy it,
erase it out of existence. Somewhere in the far corner
of my mind I knew that I should stop myself before
it's too late, but it wasn't as easy as it seemed. I
didn't want to stop. I felt high and powerful like I
could do anything I wanted to and no one or nothing
could stop me.
My feet were steady now and energy was running through
my veins while the loud beating of my heart in my
throat silenced the music. I moved in fast, surprising
him completely and throwing him out of balance. He
stumbled and tried to block my punch but it was too
late. Blood poured down his face from the smashed nose
and his face froze in the mask of pain. It was a good
enough defeat, but I was unable to stop: the taste of
his blood and pain was too much for me, and I wanted
more. I wanted him to scream and I wanted to hear it,
I wanted to feel his warm blood on my hands and feel
his neck cracking under my fingers. He was still
standing, his hands on his face, blood pouring down
his fingers and making small red spots on the white
floor. The match was over but the crowd wanted more
and I wasn't about to disappoint them.
While moving swiftly towards him I was able to see the
shocked expression on his face, but it didn't matter.
At that point nothing mattered. With hook-kick to his
lower back and another one to his stomach, I spun
around him and ended up facing his back, while he
slightly folded over as defenseless and helpless as a
five-year-old child. The crowd went wild. There was no
feelings and no sense; he was the enemy and the enemy
deserved no mercy. The fire burned my chest and the
heat in my face almost blurred my vision, I felt like
I could explode from the pure pleasure of seeing pain
and blood, hearing his weeps and hearing the inhuman
screaming of the crowd.
They were screaming my name.
I wrapped my fingers around his neck and stepped in a
low patu-ish-he with my knee pointing up. He fell back
on my knee and his back cracked, while his body jerked
without control and the grimace on his face changed
into animals face of pure pain, with nothing else left
besides an uncontrollable wish to escape. His body lay
helpless on my knee with his face open to my hands,
but his throat was the thing I concentrated on since
the beginning. I grabbed his face in between my hands
while the heat completely took over my body. The
screams turned into a wild chant, repeating itself
over and over again. My mind twisted it and turned it
into a chant that I wanted to hear: 'Kill! Kill!
Kill!...' The last piece of my conscience screamed
loudly but I wasn't able to understand it; the
chanting was too loud and it felt too good to feel the
heat blacking out my mind. My vision blurred and
everything became red like a fire of hell, while my
fingers sank deeper into the soft skin of his face. I
felt his last try to pull away and life still running
through his veins; then I twisted my hands quickly and
the snap of his neck echoed loudly in my brain. His
lifeless body slipped through my hands and sank to the
floor. His blood spilled like a wild river, while the
deadly silence filled my ears and my vision started to
clear up.
I stood up trying to understand what really happened,
when the deadly quiet was broken by a loud weep that
shoot through my heart like a poisoned arrow. I looked
towards the crowd while my mind was still clearing up,
and was stunned by the looks full of shock and disgust
that were on their faces. The scream repeated itself
and, annoyed by it, I tried to find where it was
coming from. Then i spotted the black hair in the end
of the ring and the hysteric face full of
indescribable pain. She threw herself on the floor and
wrapped her hands around his bloody shoulders, trying
to shake him awake like he was going through a
nightmare. Her face, scared by years and hard from
experience was now deformed into a mask of suffering;
the same suffering I read on her son's face just few
minutes ago. I looked at his face trying to bring back
the hate I felt, but it wasn't there. The expression
he had on was angelic, while in the same time had
something childish and sacred in it, reminding me of
the picture of Jesus himself. Staring at his white
face I painfully realized what happened. I killed him.
My throat became dry and I started losing my balance
while my knees weakened making my whole body shake
violently. The blood puddle started spreading towards
my feet but I barely noticed it. She was looking at me
without hatred or disgust while still holding his
lifeless body on her chest. Her lips whispered through
the uncontrollable weeps:
"Why..."

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

"J.C.?"
There was no response. The blond boy was sitting at
the computer with one hand on his mouth, and his eyes
full of tears. The weak sun rays made gothic shapes on
his baby blue shirt, half tucked in and almost two
numbers too large. There were piles of clothes all
over the floor and king sized bed, that looked like it
wasn't made since that same morning, which was at that
point twelve hours away.
"J.C."
Still no response. His eyes were fixed at the computer
monitor like his life depended on it. There was a soft
breeze coming from the open window and he shook his
shoulders slightly when it touched him. Wiping his
eyes, he repeated more loudly:
"J.C.?!!"
"I'm coming!"
Soon after, the tall, handsome looking guy walked into
the room, while pulling his shirt on. There was
something fatherly in his appearance, although he
barely looked any older than the blond boy, who was
now staring at him instead the computer monitor.
Trying not to step all over the clothes or anything
else that lay on the floor, J.C. walked up to the
computer, tucking his shirt in. His voice had a hint
of worry in it:
"What is it? Are you OK?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Read this."
"Not another story Justin, I'm so sick of those."
"Just read it. Please."
Justin's face was unusually serious and he was doing
his best to keep back the tears.
"Are you...are you crying?"
"Just read it."
He stood up from the computer letting J.C. take his
place, and when J.C. started reading, Justin moved
away towards the window. Breeze caressed his young
face bringing him the smell of the trees and ground
covered in Fall rain, while the sun made his blond
curls look like they were covered in gold. He let his
mind wander away, in the cruel world he read about not
even fifteen minutes ago. He could picture the
screaming crowd, loud music, and life-or-death fight,
while back of his mind repeated against his will:
'Kill! Kill! Kill!...'
Light touch on his shoulder made him jump and
instinctively move away. His heart was beating loudly
in his throat while he realized that the person behind
him was only J.C. J.C.'s eyes were still worried while
he was pulling Justin in a comforting hug:
"You shouldn't be reading things like that. Remember
our deal? No stress, no depressing stories, no crying.
Dr. Peterson said that you can't risk it and you
promised that you wouldn't."
"But that's not just any story. It's real, it's real
life..."
"Justin please. This has to stop."
"It'll stop J.C., I promise, but I have to talk to him
first."
There was a look of shock on J.C.'s face:
"Talk to whom?"
"To Kevin; the guy who wrote the story..."
"No!!"
J.C.-ov sharp voice made Justin jump and pull quickly
out of his hug. Seeing Justin's half scared, half hurt
expression, J.C. took a deep breath and repeated more
calmly:
"No"
"But I have to..."
"No, that'll only make things worse than they already
are."
"J.C...."
"I said no."
Wanting to scream, Justin felt anger and
disappointment building up in him in the matter of
seconds. Tears filled up his eyes and rolled down his
smooth face, leaving silver trace. Trying to fight
back the tears, he almost screamed at J.C.:
"I'm sick of this! You hear me?! Sick!! If anything
makes me wanna kill myself than it's you guys trying
to control every single aspect of my life! I don't
give a shit what you think right now, I'm gonna meet
this guy! See if you can stop me!"
Before J.C. managed to move, Justin was already
running out of the room, with tears still streaming
down his face.
"Justin! Damn it, Justin! Don't do this to me!!"
J.C. ran out after him still yelling out his name,
like he was hoping that would somehow stop the boy
from running out of the house. The door slammed behind
him and the room became quiet.

Not even fifteen minutes after after J.C. ran out, the
door opened slowly and another blonde boy walked in.
He gazed around the room like he was looking for
something while still standing close to the door. His
emerald eyes were unusually warm at that moment while
small painful smile, caused by the messy room made his
eyes look even larger, like two ponds reflecting the
soft color of the leaves. Spotting the computer, he
walked to it slowly and stared at the screen for the
longest time. The smile left his face and he sighed
pulling out his cell phone. Walking to the window, he
dialed a number and cleared his throat before
speaking:
"Hello,Paul? Yeah, Lance here. No there is no
problem...listen,I have a big favor to ask you...No,
it's nothing like that. I'm looking for this
person...yeah, a guy...No, the only information I have
about him is his name and e-mail address...and yeah,
he might have killed a person in Martial Arts
match...I have no idea, like I said, that's all I
know...So you'll do it?...Thanx Paul, I owe you a big
one. OK, so the name is Kevin Winslet..."
After hanging up, Lance stood in front of the window
for the longest time, trying not to thing about
anything. It was hard though. His heart was
controlling his will, creating a sharp pain in his
soul which spread faster than snake poison. He
couldn't see the light or smell the rain, although his
eyes were wide open and his mind clear. Only thing he
was able to see was pair of sapphire-like eyes and
face full of childlike wonder. The sun was replaced by
golden curls, and smell of rain by smell of early
strawberries, smell of Justin.
There was a noise coming from down stairs and he
snapped out of his thoughts realizing where he was.
Walking quickly towards the door, he decided to keep
his little investigation to himself until the time was
right. Before walking out he turned and looked around
the room one more time. Same sad smile showed on his
face while he whispered softly:
"I love you..."
And the room became quiet again.

                       End of chapter 1