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| Subject: Silence~Parts 3 | |
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Author: Kira |
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Date Posted: 20:53:53 03/19/02 Tue The sunlight skated over the treetops, peppered in brilliant reds, crisp oranges and deep greens, making the air sweet with the approaching autumn. But the land was still rich and ripe, the blossoming remained. The birds chirped and all was quiet, in the natural sense. There was no blaring of cell phones, no honking of horns, no screaming of fans. But there was the rush of pure water, the spirited hiss of the winds slicing through the leaves and the shrill song of birds, christening the winds. The rented navy fan wound comfortably down the roads that curved liked a coiled serpent. Justin pulled his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose, taking in the surroundings that inundated his senses with colors that the city simply didn’t possess. Tugging on the bucket cap, he pushed his glasses back up on his nose and leaned his weary head against his arm. It was six days after his collapse, after he’d scarred his best friend. Lance had been utterly distraught, unable to leave his side for an instant for the first three days of his hospitalization. Although Lance was improving, Justin still dealt with the overwhelming guilt of hurting Lance, Joey, Chris and JC. She had shown up, on the second morning. Her eyes puffy, mewing sobs escaping her lips. She held his hands, bruised by the IV’s and they spoke of everything besides their careers. It was fairly encouraging. He hadn’t meant to, but somehow he had gotten swept up in the chaos of his mind. Hell, he was still trapped in the mental labyrinth, but everyday, he was taking a step closer to home. Justin was hospitalized for exhaustion. He hadn’t been eating. He hadn’t been sleeping and he had been working much too hard which debilitated his body, opening it up for opportunistic viruses. With the help of doctors and medications, his body easily recovered. Now all that was left was his mind. He had been officially barred from the spotlight. JIVE wanted NSYNC, paid millions to acquire their talents, but only if they were healthy. And Justin simply wasn’t. Joey and Lance rented him a lovely house on the water in Maine away from cities and the loudness he’d know his entire life. He was remanded to the lush forests and hearty land for three tranquil weeks. Joey softly tapped Justin’s shoulder as if the prodding finger would bruise the delicate man beside him. He pointed to the house and Justin’s head turned curiously. The house was generous and leisurely spanned over the green, plush grasses and rose ornately upwards, blessing the sky with eves, overhangs and peaks. A wide, white porch wrapped around the majority of the house and a bench swing swayed contently in the salted winds. Justin opened the door walking slowly down a small hill. The house ended and a small blooming garden was still blooming. A short walk away was a thick, stone wall with a rustic iron gate that separated the house from beach that jaggedly met the ocean. He wandered down the gritty edge of the waters, admiring the cobalt waves tackling the sands, festooning the air with a maritime mist. It sprayed across Justin’s face which bore the quiet joy that the house brought him. “You like it?” Joey asked. “It’s amazing,” Justin panned the spectacle before him with stricken with awe. “I can’t believe this place.” “Yeah, it’s really beautiful here. The only downside is that there’s a house a relatively close by. That’s being rented tomorrow. The real estate agent promised that the owner wouldn’t bother you,” Joey explained. Justin’s eyes scanned the smaller, crème house with lavender shutters and trim. He was surrounded by full, leafy trees, but he could see well into the screened in porch and kitchen. Justin shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” “Do you need to go in and rest?” “No, I’m cool,” Justin shoved his hands in his pockets and headed back up the steep hill, pulling his luggage out of the back of the van and setting it on the curb. “You wanna stay for dinner or something?” Joey ran his fingers through his unkempt brown tufts and declined. “I’m just gonna head back. My flight leaves at nine and the drive is pretty long…I’ll get you settled though.” “You don’t have too. It’ll be funky, like exploring a new world or something,” he was quiet and their was an unsettling tension between them. Joey pulled out his keys, stretching thoroughly, pulling his arms over his head. “You be good, call us if you need ANYTHING, Justin. We’re only a phone call away…a SECOND.” Justin sniffled, kicking the dirt. “I can’t be alone with myself, Joe…I just think too much and drive myself crazy, how am I supposed to do this?” Justin posed shakily. Joey pulled him in a warm hug, rubbing his back. “Like you do everything else, Justin, with grace. You’ll be fine and if you’re not, we’ll figure out something else…But I know you’re going to be fine. It’s really beautiful here. You’ll definitely find some peace.” “Okay, go on before I start pleading for you to stay…” “Yeah…okay. We will call you in a few days, all of us,” Joey started, pedaling backwards towards the van. Without another word, he scooped up one of Justin’s larger bags, grunting at its weight. “What do you got in here, rocks?” Justin chuckled plastically. “Just CDs…it’s been awhile since I’ve listened to music.” “Should have known,” Joey pulled out the tiny lockbox out of his back pocket, unlocking the large carved door and set the bag inside. “Don’t even think of carrying this bag upstairs, J,” he scolded. “God, I’m not CRIPPLED!” Joey’s face hardened with a cool anger and his left hand began wringing his right fervently. “Justin...” “I’m sorry,” Justin added quickly. “I won’t carry it upstairs.” “Good to know we won’t be carting you to the hospital again…” Joey growled, nostrils flaring. “I got it, man.” Joey twirled his keys around his middle finger before scratching his thick beard. “I guess I’m off then. Take care of yourself, I’ll call you soon, Ju.” ** The house was silently, peaceful so. After inspecting his home for the next few weeks, Justin was splayed out on the deck, sipping a pot of fairly bland iced tea, admiring the New England sunset. The milky, pastel rays of the sun washed over him and Justin closed his eyes, memorized the symphony of peace that had actually stopped his perpetually whirring mind. He wiggled his toes, the sweet breezes seeping through them and sighed. This was heaven. He soon fell asleep, tea in hand, feet bare and a soothing smile on his face. ** He awoke to the offending, choking chug of an old automobile. And startled awake, his eyes flying open, tea spilling in his lap. Justin flew out of the chair as the cold liquid soaked in his legs, yelling at its chill. His eyes snaked upwards, darting towards the road. He squinted through the orangy haze, cupping his hands around his eyes as he saw a dainty-shaped woman kiss a taller man, holding his hands as the cabdriver unloaded her bags. Something stirred within him and Justin found himself creeping through the tall clusters of wildflowers to catch a better glimpse of her. Her face was shielded by the broad shoulders of the man accompanying her, but Justin could clearly see her hands. Long fingers, designed for playing the piano, rested on his shoulders. The fingers were so delicate, graced by simple coils of silver. The nails were not fake, acrylic tips, but real, long and painted an iridescent shade of lavender. Justin because enthralled with the gentle way they glided against the yellow fabric of her friend’s sweater and he found himself longing to caress them. He startled from his thoughts as he suddenly felt exceedingly tired. The doctors explained that he would need much more sleep than he was used to and Justin forgot about the woman with the beautiful hands and trudged into the house, up into the yellow bedroom with a king-sized sleigh bed and a large balcony with French doors that faced the ocean. He slipped into a pair of dry shorts, yawning fiercely and settled against the pillows and was soon fast asleep. It was dark when Justin startled awake, with swarms of nightmares creeping about his slumbering mind. They had been filled with visions of a figure lurking in the shadows, Strawberry’s playful growl suddenly smothered and the eerie tingling of glass shattering. His eyes snapped open, head aching slightly, gazing at the unfamiliar peaked ceiling above him and it took a moment of harsh breathing and rapid thought to regain his bearings. The phone rang loudly from the nightstand and Justin reached out, fumbling for the receiver. “Hey, Lance,” he smiled slightly. “How’d you know it was me?” he rumbled before chuckling tiredly. “Sixth sense, I guess.” “Do you see dead people?” “Kiss my hairy, white ass.” “You’re sounding more like Justin everyday,” Lance grinned. “Damn straight.” “What are you doing? Laying down, I hope.” “Yeah, I am. I just get so tired so suddenly. It’s not like a have choice,” Justin explained quietly and he buried himself beneath the warmth of the blankets. Lance grunted dismally and closing his eyes. “It’ll happen for awhile. You just need to rest.” “Yeah. How’s…everything there…how’s the press handling everything?” he asked gently. Lance smiled. No one could snuff Justin’s star. It may be dulled for a time, but the luster would soon return, glowing brighter than ever. “Oh no, you don’t think that Joey and I picked a place so out of tune with the media on PURPOSE did you, Justin? Things here are just fine. Wonderful. Great. Stupendously incredible. Don’t worry about it. We have PR people for that.” “Lance, this is just weird…I’ve NEVER been gone so long.” “Dude, it’s been a DAY. You have 20 more left.” Lance didn’t miss the frustration in his voice. Justin had never been one to sit still. “Okay…I’ll fill you in. JC is on a writing binge…he’s cranking out all of these ballads. And they’re amazing as usual. He misses you though...and it’s only been, like, a DAY. Chris is working on the Fu Fall line for men, he’s so excited and he keeps snatching Joey and just tries shoving him in all these clothes. It’s hilarious. Joey is seriously hiding from him so he can spend time with Bri. Uh, I’m doing the usual. Working. Oh, this is the best part,” Lance nearly giggled. “Dani brought Chris LUNCH today. The man is, like, floating on air now because she brought him some Taco Bell. It’s cute and good to see him being the little devil he is. Something’s gonna happen there, Just. Just you wait. There, now you’re all caught up. Feel better?” “Yeah, thanks, JAMES,” Justin rolled his eyes and his tone was laced with sarcasm. “Tell Jace I miss him too. I miss all of you guys and…my dog and my girlfriend…if she’s even that. But this house is nice…it’s missing the simple things like pictures and little knick-knacks, but it’s very homey and comfortable. You and Joey did a great job. Thanks.” “No problem. I’ll try not to call tomorrow, you know me, though.” “It’s fine. I like the calls. And I understand completely,” Justin resigned. Lance pinched the bridge of his nose, running his fingers through his spikes. “I just wanna kick your ass, Justin. And kick my own ass for not…” Justin interrupted. “Don’t even go there, Lance. Please. Let’s just talk later and you can kick my ass when we get back. Okay. Let’s not toss the blame around.” “Yeah…okay. Sorry. You get some rest and have fun. Go exploring or something. I know how you love to do that.” “Yeah. You be good. Don’t start anymore businesses while I’m gone.” “Shut UP, Justin…” ** Justin waltzed into the kitchen, headphones blaring in his ears, stomach rumbling. He had spent most of the day unpacking, putting his things in their rightful place- stacking his aftershave and lotions in the bathroom. It was nice to actually be able to unpack. Justin took joy in hanging up his clothes in the closet and setting them in the drawers. Justin placed framed pictures of his family on the sofa table in the living room, attempting to make himself at home. It was now mid-afternoon and he had already revisited Stevie Wonder’s Greatest Hits, Thriller and Control. Now, India.Arie’s sweet, husky voice filtered through his ears, drenching his soul and perspective in rich spirit. Justin rifled through the fridge, famished. The house only had pre-made salads, bottled water, caviar and fruit. The cupboards were bare and he was hungry for food that wasn’t so healthy or pretentious. With a sigh and an indifferent shrug, he stepped into his tennis shoes and laced them up. Leaving the headphones on his ears, Justin eased out into the carmel sunshine of the day. He was surprised about how warm it was. It was the middle of September, but the Maine air still held the tepid softness of summer. Justin walked down the road, past the neighboring house. But boredom was creeping up on him and he found himself wandering around the house’s sun-drenched rooms, searching for anything to do. He hadn’t been separated from his brothers for such a long period of time and was starting to get restless. He flopped on the comfortable sofa in the family room, flipping through all the premium channels. But he couldn’t sit still long enough to get concentrate on the movies. His walk was tranquil and Justin felt invigorated to be in the crisp, fresh air. Justin drew in deep breaths as he walked down the rather steep hill and onto the main road. The sun was shining and the people were milling about the streets. Justin shoved his hands in his pockets, slipped on his sunglasses and turned his backwards Titans hat to the front, allowing the shadow created by the brim to fall over his eyes. His body involuntarily stiffened when he walked through crowds, especially without security and his demeanor changed. Justin shrank inside himself, keeping his head bowed. “Son, you’re going to walk into someone if you keep walking like that?” a husky, grandfatherly voice proclaimed. Justin lifted his head and the stranger frowned at the tenseness of his face. “It’s a beautiful day, smile.” Justin slowly lifted his head, giving the man a gentle grin. “I’m not very fond of crowds…or in this case, clusters of people,” he chuckled nervously. “Why is that? You famous or something?” Justin arched an eyebrow. “Or something. Do you know where the grocery store is? I’m renting out that house on the hill up there and I need some junk food.” The old man laughed, placing his hand on Justin’s shoulders. He turned him around and pointed down the street to a small, colonial building at the very end of the street, mere feet away from the docks and blue abyss. “It’s right down there. They have plenty of chocolate and doughnuts and everything. Get the chocolate chip cheese danish, it’s heaven!” he suggested. Justin nodded. “I sure will. Thank you, sir.” “No problem, Justin, see ya later.” Justin began walking and then stopped abruptly, his head whipping around and his eyes widened with shock. The older man rubbed his whiskered chin and grinned. “Small town, young man, small town. Enjoy your stay!” He nodded brightly and trotted the rest of the way to the grocery store. Justin roamed through the short aisles, lazily plucking an item off the shelves. He indeed got a few pastries, two gallons of whole milk and half a dozen boxes of cereal. He grabbed a few steaks and simply began wandering around searching for anything else he wanted to eat. “Um, excuse me, I need to know if you have some mushrooms that aren’t canned?” a melodious voice questioned the store clerk. Justin’s head snapped up and his cobalt eyes peered excitedly over the short shelving and he noticed the woman that rented the house next to his. She was wearing a simple pair of olive green Capri pants, immaculately white tennis shoes, a pink tee shirt with a large yellow flower and olive green leaf on it and a warm sweater. Her hair was sloppily twisted into a ponytail and Justin couldn’t help but wonder how long it was. Wavy, auburn tendrils tickled the back of her curved neck as innocent eyes regarded the shop clerk. “Ma’am, I’m not sure if we have any in stock…the growing season is nearly over,” the clerk explained. “Could you check for me, please?” she batted her thick eyelashes and offered the man a timid, but stunning smile. “Okay, just one second.” The man soon returned with a carton of large, fresh mushrooms. “This is all we have and as for the soup base you asked for, I’m afraid we don’t have that.” The young woman nodded. “That’s fine, I can just make do. Wow, these are great mushrooms, thank you so much.” The man smiled, wiping his hands on his apron. “You bring me some of whatever you’re cooking and I will be one happy man.” “Oh, I will.” Justin headed to the cashier and stood behind the young woman as she rang up her foodstuffs. She must have been a chef. He was a bit lonely, but frightened at the warm tingles that lapped through him whenever she smiled. He was enthralled by her and he often reminded himself that he hand a girlfriend that he loved very much. She paid for her items and left the store. As did Justin. His next door neighbor headed down by the water, while he walked back to his home. The town’s rustic streets were lined in banners that advertised a Celebration of Lights. He also noticed that every store had crates of lights on sale and prominently displayed on sidewalks as well as inside. This was definitely something he would look into. He was getting tired. He was halfway back to his house, bogged down with cereal boxes and meat and milk. Tossing a frustrated sigh to the winds, he walked the rest of the way to the cabin. ** Sunset over the water was magnificent. The sky was an earthly explosion of purples, reds, oranges, golds, accompanied by thin puffs of gray, jagged clouds. The water swirled with the masterpience and the ocean’s waves crept closer and closer, louder and louder. Justin padded through the house, opening all the doors in his house. He allowed the cool, sweetened ocean winds to course through. The sounds and smells reminded him of home and it was comforting. He pushed open the opulently wide patio doors, allowing the breezes to tickle the chiffon curtains. Justin closed his eyes, letting the breeze cleanse the tears from his face. He was crying. Justin loathed crying. It was emasculating and demeaning. It made him feel weak. But he had pushed everything away, swept it in some dank corner of his pressured mind and in order to get better, he had to let the tears come. Sometimes, he sobbed. Like a little girl. Sometimes, they pushed so hard, he could only shake and hiccup and gasp. Most of the time, tears just trickled down his cheeks, like a broken faucet, that couldn’t be fixed. “Maybe I’m broken.” He felt the pull of something that wasn’t despair of the ache of his head. It had been present ever since he arrived and finally relented. Justin trotted up the carpeted stairs and searched through his suitcase. He knew exactly what he was looking for. He retrieved a sealed envelope from the bottom of his suitcase, tucked under the lining. Sitting back on his knees, Justin ripped into the seam, pulling the letter out of its casing. It was a horrible photocopy, most of the words were too blurred to decipher. Justin fingered the letter, his eyes scanning over the words, but not really letting them absorb. This was the letter that choked Strawberry. It was a fan letter. Justin eyed it with morbid fascination, as if it held all the answers. The only thing he ever wanted had swelled and backfired into a force he couldn’t control. His fame didn’t disappear when he stepped off the stage of unplugged the microphone. It followed him to bed, to the store, on dates, in the shower, even in his dreams. Justin licked his lips with disgust, tearing the letter to shreds. He didn’t want to loathe his fame, his voice or the music. He didn’t want to hate himself for loving someone who was just as busy as he was. He just wanted to be content. But he felt anger. His fingers worked furiously as he tore the letter to shreds. Leaving the confetti-ed letter scattered about his bedroom. Justin stampeded down the stairs and stomped into the kitchen, wringing his hands together. The house was silent, overwhelmingly so. He paced the kitchen. He couldn’t be in that house anymore. He would just call Joey and be picked up. There had to be another way to fix this. He would just call Joey. Justin braced himself against the sink. Composing himself for the phone, he took in deep gulps of air and ran his fingers though his unruly curls. He wiped his eyes and righted his shoulders. As he stood up, a flicker of light caught his eye. There was the lovely girl from the market, sitting on her screened in porch. She was sitting at the table and chairs, one knee pulled up to her chest, pencil in her mouth. It was nearly dark, but through the purplish haze, Justin could see her face, illuminated by the glow her laptop. His eyes flared open with an idea. A way he wouldn’t have to spend the night alone or talking to a disembodied voice nearly a thousand miles away. He dove to the bottom cabinets, pulling out a saucepan, taking out a steak he ripped it from its packaging, and plopped it into the pan. Justin rummaged hastily through the cabinets above the stove and retrieved a bottle of cooking wine. Popping the cork, Justin dumped it generously into the sink. With a glance at the woman, sitting mere feet from the window, he struck a match and dropped it into the pan. Bright blue and orange flames catapulted upwards and he jumped back, his cheeks nearly seared by the fire. His blue eyes slid towards the window and inwardly grinned. The woman from the market was hopping up his patio steps… Copyright © Kira, 2001. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |
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