Chapter 7

When news hit, J.C. was in shock. Justin had sped out of the room, left Liz and him standing, and awkward silence filling the room. Liz wanted to go after him, but he left too quickly, leaving her in the dust. She wasn't afraid for him. She assured J.C. that he was a good driver, that it helped his relax. But J.C felt this sharp pang in his stomach, he knew something was wrong. When the call came, Lynn was the one who answered the phone. J.C. and the rest stared in shock as she crumpled to the floor, sobbing, weeping for her eldest son, her joy, her life. The others went to comfort her, to cry with her, but J.C. stood there. He had known. And it was his fault. He wanted someone to talk to. He wanted to go to Liz. But she was nursing her own private grief. They never talked about what happened, never dared bring up his name. In fact, they hadn't talked at all, except for a "How are you doing?" right before the service.

He had talked to Tracy though, and he found out that Liz wasn't eating, she wasn't sleeping, all she did was sit at her desk, her face in her hands, crying for the boy she loved. The boy she betrayed. The boy she killed. The fans didn't know what had happened, why he drove off that night. They could never know, because for the thousands of Justin's fans, his death was unexplainable and they were looking for someone, anyone to blame for his senseless death.

"…was driving at speeds up to 100 miles per hour on the two lane highway when he hit the divider and barreled through, swerving into oncoming traffic." The T.V glowed in the darkness of his hotel room.

It scared J.C. to think that the answers might have been yes. He had lost weight. He was gaunt now, his skin stretching over his bones, skinnier, weaker than before. Dark bags swallowed his once laughing eyes, remnants of his sleepless nights. He tried to hide it though, until the service where he let himself go, and released all his tears.

"You don't look so good." Chris said on their way to the cemetery.

"Don't feel so good." J.C. replied honestly, his skin paled by the dark leather of the limousine seats. Even in death, Justin commanded the biggest audience. Fans threw flowers all along the procession route. They were weeping along with those inside the cars, feeling the same heartbreak.

~ January 2000 ~

The four remaining sat in a circle. They all faced each other, but never looked at each other. They sat, silent. But they were no longer boys. This tragedy, this accident had hardened their faces. They no longer laughed the way they used to, no longer sang the way they used to, especially J.C. who had lost his voice, at least to the world.

"This will help you reach a resolution." Johnny said to them. "Just try it. For Justin."

J.C. broke the silence. "I'm...I'm so sorry."

"It's okay man, it's not your fault." Said Chris, always the counselor.

"But it is. But it is. I killed Justin." J.C released the words that had haunted him all this time.

"No one killed him, J.C. We all know, we all saw, it was an accident." Lance told him.

"No!" It was a shout, a declaration. "I made him get in the car. I drove him away."

"Whatever you did, J.C. You are not responsible. Justin was driving. Justin crashed." Chris told him.

"He was mad. At me. At Liz. We made him lose control."

"No…" Chris broke in.

"We made him crash that car. He was thinking about US. What we did to him."

"Why?" Joey's simple loud question hung in the air.

"We…," he started, "we…in the hotel room…she was just there. And I…just…I've always loved her…and it…it just happened…I'm so so sorry…I never meant….It was just….never meant for anything to happen."

Silence. The boys just stared at J.C. his head down, sobbing. No one moved to console him now.

Finally, after the idea had sunk into their minds, Chris broke in. "I…had no idea….I can't imagine what you've been living with all this time."

"It isn't your fault. It never will be."

"You can't blame yourself for the way he handled the situation."

"I can't….I can't….I killed him."

"J.C. we have to move on, especially you."

"I can't"

"It's been so long already…we have to put this aside."

"I'm can't do this anymore." J.C.'s voice was clearer now. "I'm sorry I ruined this for all of you."

"J.C. what do you mean?"

"I can't…look at me!" The others had to admit this was the worst they had ever seen him. Four months after Justin's death, J.C. had lost much weight, his eyes were bloodshot eyes and his skin was sallow and pale.

"I…can't…." J.C. shrunk onto the floor and cried. He cried for himself, he cried for Liz , and he cried for Justin, the innocent one among them.