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| Subject: *Silence* The End! Feedback Please... | |
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Author: Kira |
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Date Posted: 02:36:01 02/06/02 Wed Part Seven The night was blisteringly cold and the air was foggy and thick. Everything was covered in a chevron of slick rain and as the cab pulled up to Chris’ secluded home. It began to drizzle lightly. Justin stepped out of the taxi, cursing as the atmosphere of even Florida was entirely too cold for him for had grown accustomed to the seemingly magical warmth of Maine. He paid the driver and trotted up Chris’ driveway. The house was oddly quiet and ensconced in darkness. He assumed that everyone was out for the night as he entered the house. Justin closed the door, quietly setting his bags against it. He toed off his wet sneakers and rubbed his frigid hands together. Tiptoeing down the hall and into the kitchen, Justin took the kettle off the stove and filled it with water. Turning on the flame, he moved to the large, stainless steel fridge and searched for anything to quell his nagging hunger. Chris’ fridge was always stocked with delicious food and delectable desserts, but as he pushed various entrees, his abdomen welled with nausea, a cold ache that he had never experienced before. He knew it was because he wasn’t nestled against Tamilia’s small, curvy body and her fingers tangled in his hair or streaking sensually up and down his bare back. With a sigh of disgust, Justin checked his watch and moved to the tall pantry and pulled out a package of saltines and opened them up. He began crunching wildly as he hopped up on the counter. Abruptly, bright florescent lights flooded the spacious kitchen and Justin jumped off the counter, whirling around, his eyes flaring open. Chris was stumbling into the kitchen, brandishing one of Justin’s golf clubs. Chris’ sleep muddled eyes focused on Justin and a colorful string of profanity flew from his lips. “What the HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY DAMN KITCHEN, JUSTIN RANDALL TIMBERLAKE?!” Chris shrieked, dropping the golf club to the floor. “I thought someone was breaking in,” he admitted, running his fingers through his short, brown hair. Justin clutched his heart. “Damn, scare me half to death, Chris.” “The feeling is freakin’ mutal, Justin. You aren’t supposed to be back for almost a week, what’s up? Is something wrong?” Justin brushed the crumbs from his lips and picked up his golf club, glaring at Chris as he inspected it for damage. “I just…um, I have to do something. That’s all. I’ll do it and then I’m going back,” he said in a hurry. “Uh, is JC here?” “He’s in the studio tweekin’ your songs. Why are you being some cryptical, Justin, you can tell me whatever is bothering you.” Justin frowned. “Cryptical ain’t a word.” Chris kicked him deftly in the shin. “Don’t back talk me boy. And stop avoiding it. Tell me.” Justin winced. “Don’t kick the guy with the Nine Iron, SHORTY! I can’t talk about this with you. I’m not hiding anything. I just have to do this quick,” Justin explained as he weaved through Chris’ elegant, yet vibrant house. “Let JC tell you after I leave, okay?” Chris was baffled as to what had crawled under Justin’s skin, but as he followed him down the stairs into his basement studio, he surveyed his little brother. The healthy pinkish color had returned to his cheeks and his hair was fluffy- no longer matted by sweat. He looked as if he had gained a considerable amount of weight, which only added to his physical improvement. Mentally, the man was glowing like a newborn star. “JUSTIN? What are you doing here?!” JC jumped up from the booth and ran over to give him a hug. JC embraced him tightly. “I gotta end it with her, Jace. I have to make it right for Tamilia and me,” he whispered. JC’s eyes flared up and he broke from the hug and pushed Justin backwards. “Are you serious? You’ve been with her for two week and a half weeks.” Justin rolled his eyes. “Your point?” You’ve been with her for YEARS, Justin.” “That’s not a valid point, JC,” Justin exclaimed sternly as Chris watched the conversion dumbly. His mouth hung agape and he fought not to jump in the conversation and slap some sense into his young friend. Justin loved her with all of his heart. Or so he thought. “It doesn’t matter the time length, Josh. I did the math on the plane and out of all the years we’ve been together, we have only been in each other’s company for seven months. Seven months. I’ve spent 456 hours…I know what I feel, Josh and I’m GOING to do it. I left her there so I can do it. I just have to do this now and get it over with and I’ll be okay…everything will be great,” Justin smiled. JC shook his head and tapped his lips are he often did when he was pensive. Justin could see the light blue emotions flash through his eyes and he waited, patiently for his advice. JC took a deep breath and took Justin’s arm, pushing him in the leather chair that he had been sitting in. “Justin, listen to me.” “Always do, Daddio.” “I don’t think you want this. I think that you see this Tamilia as an instantaneous recovery. I think that you are desperate to find someone that ‘loves’ you because of your problems with your girlfriend. That’s what I see, Justin.” JC spoke very timidly, but his gaze was intense and his words were strong. “You left here very troubled, very sick and I have a hard time believing that you’re instantaneously better because of some girl.” Justin set his jaw and clenched his fists. His assumptions stung, creating a painful ache in the pit of his stomach which radiated to his heart. Justin closed his eyes and shook his head stubbornly. “And I know you’re WRONG, JC.” He whispered. “You don’t know what she’s like, you haven’t met her.” “Justin, don’t get defensive. Just…take a night to think about what you’re doing. Go sleep on it, okay. Then, you can make whatever decision you want. But as you friend and brother, I’m begging you to just think about it tonight, okay? Please.” ** Tamilia was awakened with a start, no blissful lingering in the lavenderish realm between dreams and reality. No gentles kisses down her back or warm embrace. No legs tangled with her or brownish curls tickling her back. She blinked. In a haze of confusion, she pushes her coils of hair away from her face and sat up. It was eerie cold in the bedroom and Tamilia quickly grabbed Justin’s favorite green shirt that had been haphazardly tossed by the edge of the bed and put it on. Her eyes caught on her wind chime sitting brilliantly on the pillow, glued together with tedious care. Tamilia’s heart fluttered as she fingered the chimes. Carefully lifting it by the gold bow, she giggled with joy and quickly hopped over to the French doors to hanging it up in front of the marvelous ocean view. Padding across the room, she rubbed her eyes, sore from crying and tiptoed into the bathroom. She washed her face and brushed her teeth. Her stomach grumbled as she left the bathroom and Tamilia hoped Justin was making breakfast. She stumbled down the stairs and padded to the kitchen and was surprised to find it empty. Tamilia’s stomach was possessed by a nervous tingle. “Justin?” her voice was meek. “I can’t believe you fished my chime out of the ocean. It means so much more to me know. I love it.” Her breathing began to intensify as she advanced quickly to the piano room. She flew through the door and found them room empty. Tamilia’s mind began to swim with infinite scenarios as to where Justin was, but she was too stricken to pull one logical one out of the din of the others. Tamilia whirled around, her mane of curls whipping behind her, and ran back through the hallways and passed the kitchen table. Pushing the chiffon drapes aside, she jerked open the patio door and jumped barefoot onto the warm, rough patio. “Oh god…” she cried as her heart panted. Her eyes jerked crazily from side to side as she scanned the beach searching for him. The air was cold and the sky was darkening as she sprinted down the green grasses and opened the gate to the beach. Running down the stone steps, Tamilia leapt in to the sand and ran down the beach. “He’s just collecting shells for anything necklace,” she rationalized in short pants. “He said he was going to make me one.” “JUSTIN?” she cupped her hands around her mouth and her frantic voice echoed down the stretch off beautiful beach. Tamilia’s eyes filled with tears as she ran back up the stone steps through the glorious gardens and into the small thicket of trees. Her legs moved swiftly as she headed towards her rented home. She tripped and skidded on her knees, scraping the flesh. But the pain never registered as she exploded through the back door of her house. “He’s here. I know he’s here. He’s just playing a game. Or packing my things…we talked about taking a trip. That’s all.” “JUSTIN? Stop hiding this isn’t funny.” Silence. Her heart pounded and she struggled for air as ran back to the house and back into the bedroom. She walked fearfully into the closet. Her heart stopped and floundered to gain a normal rate. It was empty. Tamilia’s vision swam with tears and she was instantly light-headed. The blood from her shins dribbled down her leg, staining the carpet and she shook her head in utter disbelief. “He wouldn’t use me like that…” she explained hastily. She cried, so hard that she gripped the closet door to remain on her feet. Her entire body shook as she slowly sank the floor and covered her face with her hands. Her upper torso rocked forward and her head pressed against the carpet as her hands pulled at her hair in a volatile swell of self-deprecating thoughts and agonizing pain. The winds blew through the cracked door and her chime twinkled cryptically through the silence. ** Justin’s mind whirred as he laid in the bed, unable to sleep. His eyes were dry from staring at the same mundane flaw in the paint just above his head and he blinked. His mind carried him swiftly to the night that he meant her. He remembered how her blond hair swept across his forearm when she bent down to pick up the watch that fell off his wrist. He had attended another dull cocktail party full of executives and producers. Justin and the rest of NSYNC were the only young people there, besides her of course. His brow furrowed as he struggled to remember what color dress she had worn. It was blur between the countless other events they had attended together over the years. With an ornery sigh, he rolled off the bed and opened the door. He walked to the studio, surprised to find it empty and over to the wall filled with photos that documented their success and friendship. Justin plucked the frame off the wall and smiled. “So it was kelly green, I thought it was…” his voice tapered off as his eyes wandered to a plump Lou. He was looming in the backward, his full red cheeks pushed into a fatty grin as he shook the hand of another man that looked oddly familiar. He couldn’t place him though. Justin sneered in disgust. He recognized the drunken countenance of greed on Lou’s face. He always got an eerie glint in his eyes when his bank account grew. It didn’t matter if he was deceiving or lying, as long as the pile of money swelled into a mountain, he was pleased. “But who is that man.” Justin replaced the picture in his rightful spot and stepped closer, pushing himself on his tiptoes as he looked at more photos. He found three more of Lou and the memorable, balding man hovering just feet away from her and Justin. And suddenly, it clicked. He was a gifted music manager in her early career that had been mysteriously left his job for early retirement. Justin stared at the picture severely, wishing the abrupt unsettling feeling in the back of his mind. Justin scratched the back of his head and began racking his brain for some sort of explanation. They were always pushed and prodded to go to those parties. It was supposed to sophisticate them and help them learn how to present themselves respectively as well as gain exposure with some very powerful men and women in the industry. But they normal just found a quiet corner, stole two desserts and nibbled on chocolate soufflé and bread pudding while talking and giggling about their daily trails. As if it were a crack of lightning, striking in a flash of devastation, it hit him. They had been duped. Justin dropped the picture to the ground and backpedaled away. The whole relationship had been orchestrated and planned. It was all a sham. But it made perfect sense: push two people experiencing a whirlwind, adventurous change in their lives and they are bound to form some sort of relationship. “Justin?” JC called, walking down the stairs with a sandwich and bottled water in his head. Justin was simply standing there, looking horrified and incredibly shaken. JC sat down his food and placed his hand on Justin’s trembling shoulder. The younger man stiffened and pushed the picture into JC’s hands. “It was all a sham, Josh,” he gasped, ripping the other pictures off the wall. “It was all set-up.” JC was perplexed. He glanced at the picture and then back up to his enraged friend. “What are you talking about? What was?” “Me and her! That’s what I’m talking about!” he shrieked, pulling the photos form the wall, tossing them over his shoulder. JC jumped backwards to avoid being struck. “Justin, stop destroying Chris’ house and tell me what’s going on?!” he demanded. In one graceful swoop, Justin scooped up a handful of picture and shoved them at JC. “It’s fake, it’s all FAKE! Think about, JC! It make perfect sense. When we went to those parties. She was always there. And we were the only ones that weren’t pushing seventy! Lou and that guy…Phil, they planned the whole damn thing!” Justin trembled and ran his fingers through his curls. “The entire two years have been nothing but a disgusting lie.” “Justin, no…” he whispered. “It wasn’t.” Justin pushed JC backwards with a blinding fury and shoved a picture in his face. His eyes were wild as he pointed to the villains in it. “Look at them, JC! Look at LOU! They planned this. We were having the time of our lives…getting ready to record ‘Strings’ and just happy to have a damn break and she was there, JC. She was at every one of those damn parties, doing the exact same thing! We were so high on life and music and freedom and even the money. We were living our dreams and we could talk for hours about nothing. We isolated ourselves and of course we feel in love because that comprehension was so strong! They planned that!” Justin whimpered. “How much can one person fuck with us? Everything up until now has been a lie!” JC’s face was blank and he took the pushed the frames aside. “Justin, no…it wasn’t. What you guys felt was real. It doesn’t matter the circumstances. What you guys felt was real. You have to believe that! I saw it…with my own eyes. You loved each other!” Justin shook his head. “No…it just closed me off to any other amazing person I might happen to meet. They fixed that. We lied about it and I never even GLANCED at another woman…it’s not real. It was never real,” he spat. “What I have with Tamilia is real, Josh! I met her and she just lit up my world. It’s like I’ve been looking at it through candlelight and she just intensified everything. I laugh ‘til it hurts and then I keep laughing because I’m practically crying. I can sit still and just BE without fidgeting or thinking. I can write again. I can smile and crack jokes and be playful and LIVE with her. I never had that with her. I just had something I thought I wanted because it was pushed into my mind…and I was too naïve not to believe it.” Justin explained, tears rolling down his cheeks. ** Tamilia sat in the dark. Her eyes closed. Her soul empty and cold. She rocked subtly under the blanket that Cary had draped over her when he checked on her. He thought she was asleep. She needed sleep. But it hurt too much and it wouldn’t stop hurting for sleep. For release. It felt worse to be home, in Atlanta, away from the balmy affection of Maine and that fabulous house filled with memories and echoing laughter. The aching only increased as did the miles and the time. Her windchime was fastened to the window just over her bed and a gentle breeze tickled the crystal. Tamilia’s dry lips curved into a pained smile as the melody quietly continued. ** “Justin, sit down and eat you dinner,” Joey scolded. Justin paced the floor a cordless phone pressed to his ear. “No. She said she wouldn’t leave. She promised. She’s there I know it,” he panted. “She has to be there.” Lance shook his head and stood up, taking Justin’s plate and put it back in the microwave. “Justin, she’s not picking up. Just eat and we’ll try again after.” Justin rubbed his eyes and declined, but he sagged tiredly into the hard chair despite his stubbornness. “Where is she?” he dropped his head into his arms and covered his ears with his hands, hiding in the darkness. Chris wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned over his kitchen table. “Maybe she just went home…where does she live?” “I don’t know…she left most of her id at home. Her friend just picked up her dropped her off. He left money too,” his voice was muffled as spoke through his arms. Lance tapped Justin’s shoulder and he begrudgingly sat up. Lance set it in front of him, pushing the fork in his hands. “Eat it. All of it,” he pushed with a sternness. He rubbed his pale, unshaven face and smiled through his exhaustion. “Lance, I’m okay. I just need to find her and I’ll be okay. I’ll get seconds if you want.” Joey let out a deep breath and thanked the Lord in a quick prayer as he began to eat the meatloaf and mashed potatoes, taking hearty bites. “Do you have a picture of her?” Justin grinned proudly and hopped up out of his chair, running to the movie room, where he had left his wallet. He thrust the photo into Chris’ hands and sat back down. “I stole it from her purse when I was looking for an address. Isn’t she…just…damn…I still can’t think of a word.” Lance took the picture and smiled warmly. “Ravishing?” “Yep…fabulous, voluptuous, sexy…all of those…” Justin grinned with his mouth full. “Joe, do you think you could get me the realtor’s number? She rented Tamilia’s house too, right?” “Yeah, she did. I’ll see what I can find…after you eat.” ** The days had passed in a seamless blur. Tamilia was coping, barely hanging on to sanity. She grunted, heaving the last of her suitcases up from the basement of her and Cary’s small home. She dragged the largest bag into her room and set it on the bed before unzipping it. Tamilia moved to her bureau and scooped out the clothes. She set the piles of colorful shirts and vibrant capris on the bed and began putting them in the suitcase. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Cary whispered, lingering in the doorway. “In just two days.” Tamilia startled sharply and gazed at him with her dulled, emerald eyes. “I’m not leaving you. I’m getting’ the hell out of here,” she countered hoarsely. “For ME.” “You’ll get over him, Tamilia. You’re so strong. Running to San Francisco isn’t going to solve anything,” Cary resigned. Tamilia emptied another drawer, her expression stoic. “They have the best culinary institutions in California,” she explained dryly. “You can’t just go.” “Why the hell not? What do I have here, Cary?! A career I don’t want. A job I got fired from for nearly having a nervous breakdown and now I’m on the edge of one! I have to go or I will drown here. I’ll sink too deep and I won’t be able to find my way…okay, Cary. Can you understand that?” she bawled. “Don’t talk like that, sweetheart, please,” Cary begged. Tamilia angrily pushed the tears from her raw cheeks and adjusted her overalls. “Are you going to help me pack?” “Of course.” Cary walked into the bedroom and pressed and kissed on her forehead. “If he left you, he must be gay, because you are a gem. I love you, if that makes it any better.” Tamilia snuggled into the embrace and laughed, but even that was pained. “It does…a little bit.” ** “I can’t believe this!” Justin hollered. “What?” Joey called. “Why didn’t you tell me the real estate woman was PREGNANT, Joey!” “It’s not that important, Justin,” he answered back, never taking his eyes off the television. Justin stormed into the room, dropping the cell phone in the trash as he walked past it. He plopped on the sofa, taking a pillow into his grasp and screamed into the thick cotton. “It is when she leave work for two months to have her BABY!” he bellowed. “So you didn’t get the number?” Justin lifted his head from the pillow, his mouth dropped open in awe. “No, I didn’t. But I’m going to keep calling. I don’t care if I have to put her kid through college, I’ll get that number.” ** Two days later, the phone rang in Tamilia’s house. It screamed through the silence, but was never answered. The voicemail automatically recorded the message. “’Milia! It’s Justin. Baby I didn’t leave you. Please don’t think I did. God, it’s been hell without you. I miss you so much. I didn’t leave you. I went to make it right. I broke up with her. I have some tickets here to NYC, that’s where I am right now. I have to work…I need to work, but you understand that. But you just call me whenever and I can get you the tickets and you can come and we’ll talk about everything. I’m leaving my cell on even during tapings. I don’t care, just call me. It’s 789-9094…do you have that? I’ll call back in…I don’t know…ten minutes. I love you! I love you so much! Call me! 789-9094! Call!” ** Tamilia drove down the open roads. Her wind chime twinkling in the back seat. The simple, unpredictable song brought her comfort and almost joy as she winded down the lazy back roads of Atlanta. This marked the start of her new life. The end of the pain and the dawning of her dream. Justin helped her realize just how talented she was and he didn’t even know it. She smiled softly as the memories over took her. Searing headlights…breaking glass…truncated breaths…twisting metal invaded her reveries of love. ** Justin walked backstage of the quaint studio. NSYNC was scheduled to be the first guest on Carson’s new, intimate show, “The Last Call.” He hadn’t performed in ages and his fingers undulated with a raw excitement. He leaned against the empty wall of the corridor and just drank it all in. He could hear the small crowd buzzing a few feet away. Justin smiled and pulled his cell phone off his head belt, making sure it was charged and still functioning. “Please call…” he mumbled. Suddenly, he was unbearably weak. Clutching his belly, Justin leaned one arm against the wall, closing his eyes. He drew in a shuttered breathe and an instant later, the feeling had vanished, leaving him mysteriously unsettled. “JUSTIN!” Chris and Lance shouted running down the hall. “What’s wrong?” they panicked and began leading him down the hall. Chris ran off and grabbed the chair at the end of the corridor and raced backwards and forced Justin to sit. “Guys… I’m fine.” “You look kind of pale. Did you eat?” Lance asked. “Chris, did he eat?” Justin laughed and stood up. “Y’all, I’m FINE. It’s just nerves that’s all. I haven’t done this in a while.” “Are you sure?” Chris questioned with wide eyes. “Positive. The flight wasn’t as restful as I hoped, but I can handle this.” “Okay, but go eat an apple or something anyway.” Justin grumbled and stomped the break room, rolling his eyes. “Someday you all will make the best mothers.” ** The taping was utterly successful and Justin was enjoying every second. He missed the thrill of performing and he got a chance to sing two of the new songs he’d written in Maine. The crowd, as well as Carson, applauded them uproariously. JC has completely changed the vocal arrangements and made them thicker. Tthey painted an elated image with sound. They returned to the hotel and Chris and Lance forced Justin to take a nap before dinner. He stumbled in socked feet from his bedroom and into he common room. The television was on, but Chris and Lance were sound asleep, splayed across the comfortable couches. JC and Joey were in the kitchen arguing about what to order for dinner and Justin chuckled. He was definitely back. He turned his head almost instinctively to the television and listened to the news report. “Jean Winthrup, the daughter of a wealthy Atlanta businessman, was involved in a devastating traffic accident nearly hours ago. Winthrup was released from an alcohol treatment center just two weeks ago, but the authorities have confirmed that she was under the influence of alcohol when she swerved into the opposite lane, killing a young Atlanta woman, Tamilia Danielle Morgan, instantly. Winthrup was taken to Atlanta’s St. Vincent’s hospital, where she was treated for minor wounds before she was arrested and charged with vehicular homicide. Her court date has not yet been revealed. Memorial services for the victim will be held in two short days…” The words were muffled as a glaring ring invaded Justin’s hearing. His body felt rubbery and drained as his mouth dropped open. He fell to his knees as Tamilia’s picture was flashed across the screen. His chest ached and burned for air. The intense, silent, quaking, howling sobs seized any oxygen Justin could drawn in. Two blurry swimming images appeared before him and Justin clung to a hand that was placed in his and tried to decipher what words were being spoken. But all sound ambled into a deafening din. The house was silent, tragically so. © Copyright by Kira, 2002~ I posted an explanation page on my site...www.geocities.com/shorty12082/silence.html. Just scroll down and click the link if you're interested. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |
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| Re: *Silence* The End! Feedback Please... | Gina Z. | 15:07:33 02/06/02 Wed |
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