JC's face changed from red to pink as embarrassment flushed over his face. His eyes met with a familiar pair of brown ones and more guilt invaded his being. The thought of Chris finding out, once again, was making him feel sick to his stomach.
Chris fell back on a chair and covered his face with his hands. What was Justin DOING?
Justin looked away from the back of JC's head and around the venue. At least twenty pairs of eyes were on him... no doubt wondering what his outburst was about. Normally, he would have explained himself, but right then he was so angry and worked up, he couldn't speak. Instead, he walked past JC, bumping his shoulder with his own and he took a seat next to Chris, who refused to look up at him.
"Everything's okay!" Joey announced and the crew went back to work. He turned to Justin. "What in the HELL was that all about?"
Justin didn't answer. He didn't even LOOK at Joey.
Chris raised his head. "Obviously he doesn't want to talk about it."
Joey put his hands up, signaling that he was backing off. "Okay, okay," he said quietly. "Geez..."
Chris noticed Lance's head turning to meet JC's gaze and wondered what the secret glance was all about.
JC was so frustrated with the situation that he decided to walk away rather than deal with it then. He found his way to an empty room in the back of the venue and fell to a couch. He was so exhausted that he almost fell asleep, but every time he closed his eyes he was haunted by the facts and everything the vent ceased to make the familiar humming sound, a tape recorder clicked on in his head, torturing him.
The door squeaked open and he saw Lance's head poke through. "Are you all right?" Lance asked, his voice shattering JC's tormented thoughts.
"No," he admitted. His eyes remained stationary and to Lance, he looked as if he were in some sort of emotional shutdown.
Lance was wrong. If only he knew what was going through JC's head, then he'd know that JC had not been emotionally drained. In fact, JC's emotions were so strong that his body had shut down from exhaustion... but his mind was working overtime to make up for the absence.
Lance walked the rest of the way into the room and stood in front of the couch. He bent down, waving his hand in front of JC's face. "Hello... anyone in there?"
"Leave me alone," he mumbled, hardly moving his lips as he turned over to face the back of the couch and away from Lance.
"Are you going to be okay for the concert tonight?" Lance went on. All he got from JC after that was silence, so he turned around and left.
JC stared at the material that covered the couch and let the blues and greens blend together until his vision was filled with a deep turquoise. He sighed. This wouldn't have been so difficult if the voices in his head would listen to him and shut up. It wouldn't be hard if he could forget about what he'd done... but the voices didn't stop and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget.
Justin had almost forgotten about his past relationship with Gracie and the problems that had come between Chris and himself because of it, but couldn't seem to shake it completely.
'Maybe it's because you never told Chris YOUR truth. The truth has a funny way of getting to you, doesn't it?'
"Hell yeah," Justin agreed with himself, completely forgetting that Chris was still sitting right next to him. Carefully and slowly, he looked over at Chris out of the corner of his eye... and he saw Chris staring at him.
"What did you just say?" Chris asked. He propped his elbow up on the arm of the chair and rested his chin in his hand. "I'm waiting."
"For what?" Justin wondered, still not daring to look completely in Chris' direction.
"For you to explain why you're talking to yourself."
"I was talking to YOU," Justin answered, trying to cover up his slip.
"But I didn't say anything to you."
"I was just saying..." he paused and thought about it before he continued, "Hell yeah, are we going to get to the bottom of this. If you would have let me finish, it wouldn't have sounded so funny."
Chris gave Justin's arm a playful slap. "You crack me up, Justin," he chuckled.
Justin turned away from Chris, his eyes widening. 'Oh no,' he thought. 'He's delirious! The hurt of losing Gracie must be so intense that he's just laughing for no reason!'
Chris sighed loudly, letting out one last chuckle. "I have no idea what you mean, Justin, but right now, I really couldn't care less. Things are just so messed up that I feel like running up and down the isles of this venue and screaming! Wouldn't that be fun?"
Justin turned back to Chris and raised an eyebrow. "Fun? Are you crazy?"
"Um... yeah... Who do you think you're talking to?"
Justin gave a small laugh. "Sorry."
Suddenly, a huge grin appeared on Justin's face. "Hey, Chris... I dare you to run up and down the isles screaming..." He stood up and grabbed Chris' arm, pulling him up also. "C'mon. Just like old times," he added.
Chris eyes widened and his smile matched Justin's. "Seriously? Will you run with me?"
Justin's smile disappeared. "No," he answered.
"You big baby..."
"Okay, how about this," Justin reasoned. "You run, and I'll scream."
"But screaming is half the fun. Please don't take that privilege away from me, sir," Chris teased.
"Fine, but don't call me sir. It irks me out! We'll both scream." He pushed Chris away from himself and ushered him off in the right direction. "Come on. GO!"
"You've gotta come with me, Justin. This'll be fun!"
All of a sudden, Justin burst out in a fit of laughter and he fell back into his chair. Between laughs, he managed to get out. "Do you know how crazy this is?"
Chris stood in front of him. "You know what, Justin? A negative plus a negative equals a positive." He stopped to think. "So I figure... that a crazy situation plus an act of craziness equals two incredibly sane men. What do you say?"
Justin laughed harder. "What were you talking about when you said that I cracked YOU up? It's the other way around, my friend!"
It was Chris' turn to pull Justin up from his chair. "Whatever! Let's go!"
"Okay!" Justin finally agreed and they took off.
Just then the stage lights went on. They both looked up at the lights and then at each other. Suddenly they were giggling like little kids.
"Scream!" Chris yelled and Justin obeyed as he ran even faster, taking odd turns between some seats and hopping over others.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" two voices echoed everywhere and JC sat up from his spot on the couch. What in the HELL was that? He left the room to investigate.
"Hey, guys!" Chuck the head rigger yelled to Justin and Chris from his seat above the venue. "What are you two doing?"
Both Justin and Chris stopped in their tracks and looked up at him. "We're just being crazy," Chris answered.
"If you want to be loud, I suggest you find yourselves a pair of microphones." He winked.
Both friends looked up at the stage to see another crew member holding two microphones in his hands and grinning at them.
When JC found where the screaming was coming from, his jaw dropped. There, standing on the Nsync stage were two very happy best friends singing their hearts out... badly. They sounded awful!
Chris and Justin switched into their own rendition of "Bye, Bye, Bye," the lyrics mixed with laughter and made up words. They're dance moves were everywhere and they were practically tripping over each other's feet.
"They've gone insane!" JC said quietly to himself. "Either that or they're drunk..."
Chris collapsed on the edge of the stage, dangling his legs over the side. "I don't know, Justin," he said in an out of breath voice. "Do you feel more sane?"
Behind him, Justin held the microphone to his lips. "I drive myself crazy..." he sang out of tune. "And now I'm more saaaaaaane!"
Chris put his hands over his ears and laughed. "That was awful!"
Justin sat beside him, setting the microphone down and kicking the side of the stage with his heels. "That was fun," he said. "Thanks for convincing me."
Chris patted Justin's back. "No problem, buddy. I'm always in the mood for a crazy adventure." He picked up his microphone. "'Cause I'm CRAZY!" he shouted into it.
They sat there, shouting random things and laughing. To JC, it looked like they were happy and his conscience let up a little. Maybe he had done the right thing after all... Maybe things would work out. Maybe...
"I wish you could just leave it alone," Chris mumbled. "It's hard to forget when you keep talking about it." He folded his legs up under himself and poked at the cell phone on top of his hotel bed. "I want to call her, but for some reason... I just can't."
"Take it slow," his best friend suggested. "And I'm sorry I keep bringing it up."
"Don't be sorry. It's me who has the problem, not you."
Justin stretched out on his bed, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. "It'll get better," he sighed.
"Yeah..." Chris picked up his phone and ran his thumb down the black plastic. "Easy for you to say..."
"Easy for what?" Justin mumbled, obviously half asleep.
"Never mind."
He pressed power.
He dialed an area code.
He entered in six digits.
His finger rested over the eight. He stared at the round number so long, that it didn't even look like an eight anymore, but a strange symbol that had no meaning.
For some reason he couldn't press it.
"You wimp," he said softly to himself. "You're pathetic. Just press the damn button!"
On the bed next to his, Justin stirred in his sleep at Chris' voice, causing Chris to look over at him, losing his concentration on the number eight. H
e looked back at the number and focused in even harder than before.
"Press it, you fool!" he whispered under his breath. His index finger came down and he forced himself to press the button in.
Nothing happened...
"You idiot, you have to press talk first." And he started the battle all over again. "You did it before, you can do it again," he whispered, giving himself a pet talk.
That's when it happened. He pressed talk and put the phone to his ear.
One ring.
Two.
Three rings.
Four, long rings.
"Beep. Hi, you've reached Gracie's answering machine. I'm not home right now, but if you leave your name and number..."
Chris' brain went on overdrive. Should he leave a message or should he just hang up? He didn't want to sound like a wreck when he listened to it. He took a deep breath.
"Beep."
"Hi, Gracie... it's me," he said softly into the phone. "I know you said that you wanted to break up... JC told me everything. Gracie, I'm sorry, but I just cant get you off my mind. Please call me back and tell me that you'll reconsider. Justin's not angry anymore so we'll have nothing to worry about." He hung up the phone and bit his lip as tears filled his eyes.
There. He'd done it. Now it was time to play the waiting game.
"So, tell me, Gracie..." her psychiatrist droned on. "What were you thinking when JC came to your apartment and told you that Chris didn't want anything to do with you anymore?"
Gracie sighed, looking at his dark, wavy hair while she thought about how it was too long and needed to be cut. She then let her brain focus on the day JC had told her the news. "I felt like dying," she admitted. "I couldn't believe that he would send JC to do his dirty work."
"Were you mad?"
"I don't know," Gracie looked away from him and at a bookshelf on the far end of the room. "I was too devastated to be angry then... but now..."
"You're angry at him for not telling you himself or you're angry at him for breaking up with you all together?"
"Both... I guess..."
The psychiatrist tapped his index finger on his temple and thought about what his patient had just said. He looked over at her from across his desk. If he didn't concentrate too hard, she kind of looked like his late wife, Angela. She had the same eyes.
"Don't worry, Gracie," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "We'll fix things."
Dr. Tim Forney drove down South Hill Street, clutching the gray steering wheel tightly as he turned onto a street he had driven on many times before. Only this time, he was extremely aware of it.
After his session with Gracie, something happened in his mind and tears escaped his eyes for the first time since his wife passed away. He got the feeling like she was still alive. Every time he thought of Gracie's sweet and innocent face, the feeling came back to him.
He couldn't control what he did next. He did everything in his power to dig up information about Gracie... starting at her school.
He knew that she would be staying at her parents house that weekend and he couldn't help himself from driving past her apartment.
When he saw the brick building, he slowed down and pulled into the tenants' parking lot. He parked the car, cracking the door open slowly and cautiously, stepping out. His hear was beating furiously. He couldn't believe he was actually doing it.
His feet crunched on leaves and he walked towards the apartment's main entrance. His fingers reached out and touched the metal handle. The autumn air made the metal cold and he quickly opened the door, but slowly stepped inside. On the other wall, across from himself, he saw a list of all the tenants and their room numbers.
Perfect.
He found her name and room number. There was just one problem. He had no one to buzz him in.
Suddenly, the door opened. A middle aged man with a scruffy face and a bald spot on the top of his head appeared. He was wearing torn jeans and a greasy red and black flannel shirt. He smiled at Tim and lifted his tool belt up around his waist.
'Obviously,' Tim thought to himself. 'This man must be some sort of a handyman.'
He took his opportunity and slipped inside the door before it closed. So far, so good.
He walked up the stairs, brushing his hand against the banister on his way up. His eye caught the number of Gracie's apartment and he approached it.
All of a sudden, he broke into a cold sweat and a soft ringing sound could be heard in his ears. Once again, he evaluated his decision in his mind. The act was way out of his nature, but for some reason, it seemed like he had no other option. It was almost like some force was driving him to do it.
Time wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked around. The hall was deserted and he couldn't help but smile at the luck he'd received. The only way he could get any luckier was if Gracie had left her door unlocked. He knew that the chances of that happening were slim to none.
He looked around quickly, one more time and when he saw that he was still alone, he reached for the doorknob.
It was locked.
Luckily, he had come prepared. He reached into his pocket and removed a paper clip. After bending it out of shape, he jabbed the end into the lock and fiddled around with it until he heard a click.
A rush of adrenaline shot up his spine and he froze. He had never felt that way before and to him... it was... exciting. So exciting, that he found himself unable to control his next actions.
He quickly entered Gracie's apartment and shut the door behind himself. The rush of doing something so wrong entertained him to the extreme and he turned around, eyeing the objects that were scattered around the room.
Tim walked around the perimeter of the room, picking up random things and analyzing them. When he got to the kitchen, his eyes fell on a little, blinking, red light.
Her answering machine.
Chapter 3
Identities
Chris {Fiction}
Justin {Fiction}
My Fiction
I'll Never Stop {Fiction}
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