Date: Sat, 24 Feb 2001 21:56:48 -0500
From: seth = cool <wrongfulsuspicion@hotmail.com>
Subject: yellow chapter 3

Wow... it's been a long time since I submitted, huh?  Well, I don't have
any great excuse other than... well... college sucks ass.  I think that
pretty much sums up my predicament.  But, here's chapter 3 for you...
things are gonna start getting interesting soon, I promise.  I've
already started on chapter 4, so... maybe you guys (if any one out there
is actually reading this) won't have to wait so long for the next
chapter.  I know this one is short, but I came to a stopping point that
I liked so... I stopped.

Disclaimers!  If you're under 18, you're not supposed to be reading
this... this chapter contains bad language that, if you're under 18, you
haven't heard anywhere... except in movies, on cd's, and probably from
your parents when you get home late.

I don't know NSYNC, don't know their sexuality, don't really care
either.

Thanks to friends (SLJ) and readers...

"Now this year won't go away
I can't take another day
And I'll chalk it up to fate
But I'll never be the same"
      -Automatic 7

And now... chapter 3 of "Yellow"...

***

The ringing of the phone broke me out of my boredom-induced stupor.
For the last hour or so, I had been staring out my living room window,
smoking cigarette after cigarette, watching the world pass me by.  I
slowly climbed off of the couch and walked to the phone, checking the
Caller ID before I answered it.  "Private Caller."  I had no idea who
that could be... everyone who I knew (or at least, everyone who I
actually might WANT to talk to) didn't have the private calling
feature... so I decided to just let the phone ring and made a mental note
to check my voice mail later.  My plans were spoiled however, as the
moment my phone stopped ringing, it started right back up again.  I
checked the ID again... "Private Caller."  I was NOT gonna deal with this
shit all night.  I grabbed the phone and hit the "on" button.  "Yeah?"
No one answered on the other side, only serving to increase my
frustration that much more.  "Is anyone THERE?!?"

A voice finally spoke up, rather hesitantly.  "Is this Evan?"

I sighed.  "No."  I hung the receiver back up, content that whoever was
on the other line would not be calling back.  As usual, I was wrong.
The phone rang again, the ringing seemingly louder this time than ever
before.  I grabbed at the phone again.  "WHAT?!?"

The person on the other end chuckled.  He FUCKING CHUCKLED.  "Well,
at least now I know it's you."

I closed my eyes, trying to place the voice on the other end of the
phone... it sounded vaguely familiar... but... I just couldn't get it.  "Who
is this?"

"C'mon... you don't recognize my voice?  I'm hurt..."

I felt my stomach tense up... this person was really freaking me the hell
out.  "No, I don't recognize your fucking voice... and you have about
three seconds before I hang up and call the phone company to report
your ass for harassment..."

The other voice broke in suddenly, almost... breathlessly.  "WAIT... Evan,
it's Justin!"

I paused.  "Justin?  Justin who?"

Another laugh.  "Now I know you don't have that bad of a memory Evan...
Justin Timberlake."

What in the hell was Justin Timberlake doing calling me?  We hadn't
talked since... well, since that day in the airport, almost two months
ago now.  "Justin?"

"Yep... that's me."

"Why are you calling me?"

"Jeez... don't sound TOO happy to here from me, ok?"

Was I missing something here?  Since when did Justin and I get along?
"Last time I looked, Justin, we weren't exactly on amicable terms."

Another hesitation.  "Well... true.  But... that's kind of what I was
calling about."

"Go on."

He sighed.  "Well... yeah.  I just wanted to say that... that I accept your
apology."

Are you kidding me?  This kid tracks me down... and how the hell did he
do that in the first place... to tell me he accepts my apology from two
months ago... to a situation I barely remember?  "How did you get this
number?"

"Ummm... JC gave it to me..."  His voice was getting more and more quiet...
a
small part of me almost felt kind of bad for him.  Almost.  And now...
how did JC get my num... oh... Aaron.  Got it.

"So why did you call?"

"To tell you... to tell you that..."  Almost a whisper now.

I interrupted him.  "No, I got that part.  But why did you call?  You
could have written, or sent an email, or just forgotten about it... why'd
you call?"

"It's... complicated, Evan."

I had to laugh at that.  I had to.  "Now you're starting to sound like
me."

A sigh.  "I knew this wasn't going to go well."

Dammit.  For some reason, this kid knew how to push my buttons, knew
exactly how to play me.  I sighed.  "Look, Justin... I'm sorry.  You
just... kind of caught me off guard here, ya know?"

"I understand."  I smiled.  His voice was stronger.

"So... tell me... why'd you call me?"

"Evan... I don't know how comfortable I am..."

"Tough.  Spill it."

"Evan..."

"Justin..." I mocked.  I was kinda enjoying this call, in a sick, twisted
sort of way.

"I'm calling you because... because... it's YOU."

Huh?  Once again, I think I missed something... again.  "What?  I'm
afraid you lost me there..."

"If it had been anyone else Evan, I wouldn't have given a damn... but no...
it had to be you..."  He stopped for a second and chuckled.  "Can I tell
you a story?"

"Shoot," I responded, not exactly sure where this was going.

"Well... it started... maybe four or five years ago.  I was 15, 16... kind
of
in that awkward period... you know what I mean?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, anyway... NSYNC was just starting out back then... and it was... it
was a really tough time for me, ya know?  I mean, there I was... just a
KID, really, and I was put on display for millions of people... it was...
tough, to say the least."

Ok... I'll say this about Justin... he managed to pique my interest,
generally not an easy task.  "What happened?"

"Well, nothing HAPPENED, Evan... it's not like there was some huge event
that I'm leading up to...

"Oh."

He laughed.  "Should I be offended that you seem disappointed by that?"

I grinned.  Why did this kid have me grinning?  "Yeah... probably."

Another laugh.  "I'll remember that.  Anyway... you wanna know why I
think there WAS no huge event?"

"Sure."

"Because... I felt like I had someone who understood me."

Ok... once again, Justin managed to lose me.  "Who?"

"YOU!"

"ME?!?"

"Yes... YOU."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." he sighed.  "I mean that you... your music... your lyrics...
they
helped me through some really tough times."

"Oh."  I wasn't sure how else to respond to that.

"And... and I KNOW that I wasn't the only person who felt like that about
you.  You had... so many fans... who loved you, and who cared about you...
and then... you disappeared.   Why, I don't know... I'm not gonna ask
again, either.  I learned my lesson the first time."  He stopped and
laughed a little.  "And... God... you dunno how many times I've wished I
could have met you Evan... if nothing else, then to just say thank you."
Another laugh.  "It's ironic, isn't it?  I have tons of fans who wish
they could meet me cause they like my music... and here I am, wishing I
could meet you... for the same reason."

For once in my life, I didn't know what to say.  "Ummm... uh..."
Articulate, aren't I?

"You don't have to say anything Evan.  It's just... that's why I called.
When I met you... it was so cool... and when that girl came up and you
weren't cool... I dunno... and now I'm just babbling.  You just... you
always
seemed like such an awesome guy Evan..."

I sighed.  "That was a very long time ago Justin."

"What does that mean?"

"It means... it means that the Evan you wanted to meet just doesn't exist
anymore."

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

I laughed, with a little malice breaking through into my voice.  "Yeah,
I did... and now I think you'd better explain it."

"What I meant Evan was... was that you haven't changed."

"And you're the great expert on this?"  Ok... so perhaps sarcasm wasn't
needed right then, but too bad... Justin was starting to piss me off...
again...

"No, Evan... I'm not, and I never claimed to be.  All I know is... that the
'old' Evan, as you call it, IS still there... because I've seen him!  I
saw him in my hotel room and in the café... I even saw him in little bits
and pieces of THIS conversation.  He's still there Evan... and..."  He
trailed off, seemingly afraid of finishing his thought.

"And what?"

Justin sighed.  "And... and I hope you find him.  The world could use him
again."

"Justin... look... I appreciate you saying that... but..."

"Evan... again, you don't have to say anything.  I just wanted to tell
you how I felt.  Look... I know... I know that something's wrong, and I
know that you don't want me to fix it... but... just think about what I
said, ok?

"Ok."

He laughed a little, trying to break the tension.  "Well... now that I've
said my piece, I gotta go... rehearsal started like twenty minutes ago."

"Ok."

"Bye Evan... it was good talking to you."

"Bye Justin."  I clicked off the phone and wandered back into the
living room, reclaiming my position on the couch.  Sighing, I lit
another cigarette and watched the world move on without me.

***

I wandered back into the house, having spent the majority of the night
outside on the back porch, staring up at the stars.  And thinking.
Thinking was all I ever seemed to do these days.  It wasn't healthy...
thinking.  I was tired... tired of feeling the way that I did, tired of
everyone trying to help, tired of not knowing what to do next, tired
of... tired of life.

I had spent most of my time recounting my conversation with Justin.  It
blew my mind that he saw what he thought he saw in me... if, for nothing
else then... well... I had stopped seeing it a long time ago.

I didn't want to think about it any more.  I didn't want to think about
anything anymore.  I just... I just wanted things to go back the way they
were.  A stupid wish, I know... there's no way that things could ever get
back to normal.  Not for me.  Not anymore.

So what was I left with?  A life with nothing but pain?  That didn't
sound like too much fun to me.  A life being known as the recluse who
used to make music?  Again... not fun.

Such a big part of me just wanted to put everything behind me... start
fresh... be... happy.  Happy.  I hadn't been happy in so long... did I even
know what the word meant anymore?

I made my way upstairs, stopping only to turn off lights.  When I
reached the bedroom, I immediately collapsed onto the bed, looking up
at the ceiling.  I was at a crossroads.  That much I knew.  Which path
to take?  That much I did NOT know.  It seemed like I had a million
roads in front of me... and none of them could accomplish what I wanted...
what I really wanted.  Peace.  Normalcy.  Happiness.

There's that damn word again.

Why did it have to be so tough?  Why did it have to happen to me?  Why...
the eternal question.  WHY THE FUCK WAS EVERYTHING SO HARD FOR ME?

"I feel infinite."  The words were out of my mouth before I even
realized it.  I had to laugh at the irony.  I felt anything BUT
infinite.  Funny how that used to be one of my favorite quotes...

I felt so small, so helpless.

And so tired.

Choose a path Evan... I was stuck.  I was static.  I was in one place...
and I stopped trying to move a long time ago.

Static.

Happy.

Tired.

Fuck.

I reached for the phone on the nightstand and dialed a familiar number.

Path chosen.

***

The phone rang twice before a groggy voice broke through.  "Hello?"

"Hi."

"Hello?"

"Look... I'm sorry for calling so late... it's just that..." I trailed off.
What did I want?  What was I hoping to accomplish?  I was shaking... I
was that nervous.

"Hello?"

I shook my head, trying to convince myself to stay on the phone.
"Yeah... sorry... I kind of spaced out for a second... I... I just..."

A pause.  "Who is this?"

I closed my eyes.  Things never go as planned.  "Evan."

"EVAN?"  The voice was suddenly alert, and I could almost picture
Justin sitting up quickly, trying to comprehend what was going on.

"Yeah.  Like I said... I'm sorry for... calling so late."

"Don't worry about it... it's cool."

"Did I wake you?"  Why the hell did I ask that?  I could tell from the
minute he picked up the damn phone that I woke him up.

"Ummm... yeah... but it's ok.  Really.  Tomorrow's an off day.  Not a
problem."

"Ok."

"So what's up?"

I had to laugh... he made it sound like I was a friend, calling him up in
the middle of the day, instead of... instead of a psycho calling him up
at 4:30 in the morning.  "I just... needed..."  Why was it so damn hard to
talk all of a sudden?  Change the subject.  "Aren't you gonna ask me
how I got your number?"

I could almost hear the shrug.  "I figure you called Aaron, who got it
from JC.  Right?"

"Yeah."

"Ummm... yeah.  So..."

"So..."

He laughed.  "Did you wanna talk about something Evan?"

Damn him.  Why was he making this so hard?  "I just... needed... someone to
talk to."  Silence.  "Hello?"

"Yeah... sorry."

"No problem."

"Can I... can I ask you something?"

I was already dreading it.  "Sure," I said, through gritted teeth.

"Why me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... why'd you call me?  We barely know each other.  And... let's
face it... the majority of our interactions have not been positive."  He
laughed.  "I mean... I dunno... you could have called Aaron... or... or
anyone!
Why'd you pick me?"

Fear washed over me.  Maybe this was a bad idea.  "I'm sorry.  If you
don't wanna... I mean... I'll go..."

"NO!  No... it's totally cool Evan.  I didn't... I didn't mean it like
that.  I was just wondering why, out of everyone, you wanted to call
someone you barely know."

I sighed, partially relieved that he wanted to talk to me, partially
angry at myself that I hadn't hung up the phone already.  "I think
that's part of it."

"What is?"

"The fact that I don't really know you... the fact that I haven't spent
years around you.  That and..."

"And what?"

I took a deep breath.  "This is really hard for me, ya know?  I called
you because..." I stopped, trying to figure out a way to get the words to
come out of my mouth.  To Justin's credit, he didn't speak up in the
interval.  "Because... you see something... something in me... that no one
has seen... in a long... long... time."

"What?"

Dammit.  Why was this so hard?  "The... 'old' Evan."

"Oh."

"So... yeah."

We were quiet for a long time.  Seconds, minutes, hours, days.  "You
don't see him anymore, do you?"

I paused as I felt the first tear roll down my cheek.  "No."

More silence.  "What happened Evan?"

"I can't... I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"I just... I just can't!  Not over the phone."  What the FUCK did I just
SAY?!?

Silence.  "Do you want me to come out there?"  And what the FUCK was
wrong with this kid?  He barely KNOWS me!

"No."

"Evan..."

"Justin, no."

I heard him sigh.  "Ok."

Say something.  "I... I appreciate the offer Justin, I really do.  But
no."

"Alright... but I dunno what to do Evan... I don't know how to help you
if..."

"I'm not asking you to help me Justin.  Just talk to me."

"About what?"

Good question.  "About... anything.  Just talk to me."

***

We talked.  For another hour or so, that night.  About NSYNC, about the
weather, about the music business in general... we just talked.  For his
part, Justin carefully avoided the topics of me and of Broken, for
which I was grateful.

And so life went on.  Every couple of days I would get a call from him
and we would just... talk.  And every now and then I would call him,
usually in the middle of the night, when the loneliness just became to
much and I didn't have anyone else to turn to.

I think... I think that he felt sorry for me.  I hated to think it... but I
did.  It seemed like... like... I was becoming a project of sorts for him.
Kinda like a kid (and why do I keep calling him a kid?  He's only two
and a half years younger than me...) who would take care of bird eggs in
a fallen nest.

So I made my decision.

***

"Justin?"

"Yeah?"

"I think... we should stop talking."

"Do you need to go?"

I closed my eyes.  He wasn't getting it.  "No... I mean... not today.
Just... stop."  A pause.  Followed by silence.  "Hello?"

"Sorry... umm... why?"

"Just... because."

"Don't pull that with me again... please."

"It's just... am I just a project for you?  Your good deed for the year?
You call me up, and it's a bit of charity?"  I paused to take a breath.
It was all coming out now, and I didn't want it to stop.  "Because I
don't NEED your PITY Justin, I really don't!  I got through life before
you, and I'll sure as hell get through life after you.  I don't need
you to be my caseworker."

Quiet.  Followed by a voice, low and soft.  "I'm sorry you feel like
that Evan."

I lit a cigarette and looked out the window.  "Me too."  And as much as
I hated to admit it, part of me meant it.

***

It was almost Christmas.

I hadn't left my house in a week.  I really was becoming a recluse now.
When I did venture outside, it was all a strategic strike.  Straight to
the grocery store.  Pick up bread, soda, cigarettes.  Back home.  Talk
to no one, look at no one.  Don't breathe until home again.

I could feel myself sinking, I really could.  It's not like I didn't
notice it.  The worst part was... I was encouraging it.  I stopped
answering all phone calls.  Stopped responding to emails.  I even
changed the locks to the house so that Aaron wouldn't have a key
anymore.

Aaron.  I didn't deserve him as a friend.  He was trying.  God knows he
was trying.  He called often, leaving pleading messages on my voice
mail.  Said that the only way he knew I was still alive was when he
drove by at night and saw lights on.  He was worried.

Hell, I was worried.

I was getting close to the point of no return.  What did that mean?  I
didn't even know anymore.  I was slipping away, further and further.  I
smoked with a vengeance now, silently praying each night for lung
cancer or emphysema or some other horrible disease.

It was almost Christmas.

***

Christmas day.  A knock on my door.  First soft, gradually getting
louder and louder.  I sighed, got up off the couch and walked to the
window in the living room, peering out of it.  Aaron.

He pounded on the door for what seemed like an eternity, but was
probably just a few minutes.  Finally giving up, he turned and walked
back down to his car.  Just as he was opening his car door, he turned
back to the house and looked straight at me.  He saw me.  There was no
way he couldn't.

I looked at him.  He looked at me.  We stood there, neither one of us
breaking eye contact with the other.  In his face, I saw pain... anger...
sadness.  In mine?  Honestly?  I don't have any idea what he saw.

I lit a cigarette and moved away from the window.  I never heard the
car pull away.

***

And that's it for chapter 3... chapter 4'll be out... eventually.  Email
me!  wrongfulsuspicion@hotmail.com... comments appreciated.  Until next
time, don't let the man get you down!