| Love Is Blind �Ah, I don�t think so, guys,� Justin replied in a breathy, unwholesome tone. Lance respected the remark and hid his query. Chris and Joey stood dumbfounded with twisted looks on their faces. Chris shrugged and carried on. Joey rose his hand and a rude �Why?" almost belted from his mouth, but JC stopped him, because he knew what was going on. JC was an influence, and he wasn�t sure if he wanted to be. JC got the clue and said, �sure, man.� Justin started to turn around to suffocate the awkward moment, and JC shuffled the confused group in the opposite direction, toward Tuxedos, a nearby club in Tacoma. Justin advanced toward the tour bus in a (already) lonely manner. He passed the driver without much eye contact. In favor of his hope, he evaded any after show fans. He didn�t want thirteen year old girls to be brokenhearted, too; nor did he want to be seen so wimpy. It was crunch time. He grabbed the phone biting his bottom lip. He hid himself behind the curtain that revealed his very plain, twin-sized bed. Justin took a deep breath in, dialed the first six numbers to Britney�s home phone, exhaled, and dialed the last digit. Britney was a pop superstar, too. She was perfect; 5� 9�, Voluptuous body, beautiful heart, and sunny blonde hair. Britney was talented, too. Justin supported his elbow on his knee and brushed his fingers through his curly blonde hair. After impatiently waiting for an answer, Justin heard Britney�s awaited soft, ladylike, tender, and caressing voice. It was almost seductive. �Hello?� �Ah, hey baby,� Justin familiarly, but nervously addressed her. Justin gulped, clearing his throat. Britney seemed puzzled and confused by his insecurity, but she went on anyway. �What's up, Stinky (Her nickname for Justin)?� she asked in an amiable style. Justin�s sweaty hands pulled out a rough draft of his speech from his plastic-like performance clothes� pocket. "Pinky," he replied and attempted to smile. The smile faded quickly. �Look,� he started. � I feel,� he began again. Justin let go of his head to gesture with his hands. �I love you,� was the simplest, most genuine thing he could say at the moment. �I love you, too� Britney responded, still confused. Justin was hoping she would step forth. �Am I the only one?� he asked shakily in search for truthfulness. Silence awaited him. He was anguished, and a nervous tear ran down his face, almost taunting his clenched teeth. �Tell me I�m the only one!� Justin repeated slowly with frustration and disbelief. Britney was now scared, and she answered abruptly. �Yes.� �Bullsh-t!� Justin exclaimed. His face was now drenched, and he took in a gasp. It lasted for about three dreary seconds. �I know, I know,� Justin said. �Wade told me.� Wade was Justin�s friend who he met through work. They were like a split atom. Wade was also Britney�s choreographer. He hooked the two up in the first place. �How c-,� the sentence was stopped with a sigh of disgust. Justin was like water works in an amusement park. It didn�t help that Britney was sobbing, too. He cared even more about her, even if she was the demon. That was a sin in his mind. She was his angel. He hated to do this on the phone, but what�s a man to do for another month- live with it day and night, show to show? The newly former pair cried for seconds more, until Britney finally attempted to defend herself. �I was so confused,� she pouted. �I just thought I could pretend Wade was you and I wouldn�t have to miss you anymore.� Justin was better than that. �That�s a lame excuse,� he snapped. Justin�s mood changed quickly and he continued, �If there�s ever a moment where you need me, you can rest assured that I will be there, because I love you, as a person, and I will always love you.� He was about to hang up, but he decided he was not apologetic and gentlemen like enough. He had no idea how haunting this proposition would be. �Look. No matter what we say, people are going to try and speculate what happened, and I could really get myself into a horrible position if I were to say something, and somebody misinterpreted it, because that happens all the time. And I promise you I will not say specifically why we ah, broke up.� Justin squealed out a quick, last phrase, �love you.� He turned the phone off, dropped it on the floor outside his bed, dug his face into his pillow, and cried. He really sobbed himself to sleep. He tried singing nervous tunes to help, but it didn�t. Nothing did. Nothing was important to Justin anymore. Meanwhile, the other four guys returned to the bus by 2:30 AM. The only sober one was JC. He couldn�t get his mind off Justin. JC entered the bus to find their driver sleeping with a clueless expression on his face. JC tried to keep Joey, Lance, and Chris quiet, and he succeeded, because they were soon out like lights. JC opened the only closed curtain to find Justin; face scrunched up with a terrified expression, and his eyes were almost stapled shut. The face was moist, and red like a man who was another country folk of Tennessee. That�s all Justin really was without Britney. By 5 AM, Justin�s sleep couldn�t even last, never mind trust in Britney. His heart had been broken before, but this was the most severe. His loves cheat on him, and they all go down the same way. It had been like that since he was fifteen. Justin woke up to find his face burning and stained. He remembered his status: a bachelor; after a three and a half year relationship. It seemed like Britney wanted Justin to be single. Why did Britney try to make something with Wade when she had Justin? Justin was absolutely baffled. He hated Wade for about 25 minutes, but he did the right thing. Justin had always been about two things in relationships: trust and respect. Britney apparently wasn�t about that at all. Justin made up his mind to call his best friend, his mom, Lynn Harless. She cried with him on the phone. �Oh, Justin. I am so sorry.� �I know. I�m just so, so hurt. I need you, Momma,� Justin answered in a boyish tone. His southern accent was slipping out' and he was losing his polished celebrity voice. �I�ll see you at the show in Memphis in a few weeks, right?� Lynn confirmed. �Yea,� Justin said as if he was ungratefully reminded of a burden. �I think I�m just gonna write some stuff get this all," Justin cut off his sentence as if he either didn't have to finish it , or forgot to, or was looking for a way to express the last word. "out,� he concluded �Don�t do anything too rash,� Mrs. Harless supplied as advice. Forgetting he was on the phone, Justin nodded. �Bye,� the self-proclaimed mama's boy said. �Bye bye.� she replied. They both hung up the phone. It didn�t take long for the news to get around. Hours later, Justin stared at the television flipping through channels without much concentration. �Fu-k off,� Justin mumbled. He watched VH1 display an archival interview. �Everybody�s dyin to know lotsa stuff about me and Britney,� was followed by a smile and a small laugh. �Ah, I am definitely in love,� he continued. �And it�s a great feeling.� It was now 1 PM, and everyone was up and out at lunch. He declined their earlier invitation. Justin, remaining in bed pulled out a paper, and began to write. The tones of his music were evil and drained. It was the same way for the remainder of Nsync�s Popodyssey tour. The easiest one word description of it would be hellacious. Wake up in the morning, no breakfast, write songs of his mass destruction until noon, shower, eat at one (alone), put tunes to his lyrics on his guitar until 4, sound check, out for an awkward dinner with the group, get make up and preparation at 6, and a show at 7. Justin even skipped out on the (ritualistic) pre-show hackey sack games. How could a man go so wrong and so far into the opposite direction? He thought about Britney every second. She was everywhere. She was in his coffee, in his bed, but most in his head. Show quality was falling downhill, too. Performances such as �Gone� were off key and effortless. Occasionally after shows, Justin would drink extensively; maybe even get a complete stranger to share a joint with him. The other guys didn�t know what to do about it. When Justin got home, he was finally diagnosed with depression. He took four pills a day, but even after several weeks, it didn�t help. He would even go long periods of time without shaving. He finally underwent Psychological Hypnotic Surgery. He would receive a shot containing a burning sensation to numb his entire body. A psychologist would be brought in to talk about Britney in an intimidatingly, in order to bring the facts to reality. Justin would be unable to react because he was numb. He could only watch and listen. That process would last a long forty-five minutes. A hypnotist would then help him ease things with a mind game to help Justin to laugh off the situation of her mention. The surgery was designed especially for Justin. Justin was caught in public several times a day, even with all his hoodies, and he could not avoid the press. Answering to them was like saying he would die tomorrow. He had to be quick witted. Although Justin was unable to evade peoples� constant speculation of Britney and him, Justin kept the surgery secret. He counted down the days until the operation. The day finally arrived. Lynn was wearier than Justin. She met Justin at the hospital with his stepfather and her second husband, Paul Harless. They entered the doors with her wrapped in Paul�s arms, and her right hand was grasped onto the back of his sweatshirt. She was a somewhat petite woman, and you could tell she hadn�t showered that morning, because there were leftover tears on her face. She wore little make up, mens� gray sweatpants, and a faded blue sweatshirt that read, �BE NAUGHTY, SAVE SANTA THE TRIP.� The shirt was more boastful than her mood. She spotted Justin on the right side of the room. He wore a baggy gray t-shirt from Abercrombie (that once had red and orange writing on it) and navy blue athletic pants. As Paul continued to the desk at the front of the room, Lynn kept her eyes set on Justin. She plopped herself into a chair next to him, taking his hand. The secretary noticed the mood of the family and quietly signaled them to come. Justin stood up first, showing his bravery. His mom followed, still holding his hand. A female nurse led them to a room that only admitted Justin. The nurse gave him a requested for him to think about Britney for a few minutes while she left him alone. He got dressed into the paper, white and blue patterned boxers. He didn�t look so buff, nor did he feel it. He felt like a loser who hung out with nerdy thirteen-year-old boys. He traced the scarce, blonde hairs down the center of his chest with his finger. His skin was patched of pale and red shades. He had lost weight; a lot of weight. His thoughts of Britney suffocated him again. A female nurse interrupted Justin. �You ready, JT?� the nurse said trying to break the seriousness. Justin nodded impassively and climbed onto the bed. It was in the center of a sterol room. The room was furnished with a wrap around, four-sided, reversible mirror, a white floor and white ceiling, and nothing else. Lynn and Paul stood to Justin�s left (outside the wall), Lynn returning to Paul�s arms. The nurse pulled out a transparent injection. She blocked their view while she let the ache in to Justin�s arm. A level pitched scream followed the nurse out the room, and Justin remained strapped tightly to the board. Paul noticed a stream of tears skid down Lynn�s face. It was worse from Justin�s perspective. His eyelids itched each other top to bottom and remained shut. The top of his upper legs felt as if someone were digging up the little fat he had and pulling it out. His lower legs wanted to bend under his thighs, but ankle bands stopped them. Justin�s feet ached and burned like they were tired and cut up. His hands were clenched into fists and his arms wanted to curl up to his chest the way his legs yearned to. A stinging tingle started to run over his veins, and with in the minute, his screams brought tears and the rest of his body was numb. The nurse returned with a wet, white cloth, and Justin saw it approach his face. She sat him up in a wheelchair. His eyes were wide now and he appeared alert. He twitched every few seconds to get used to his paralyzed-like state. The psychologist switched places with the nurse shortly. �Hello, Justin,� the prim man with gray hair and glasses said politely. He had forgotten that he wouldn�t be getting a reply. He only got a lip movement and scrunched nose. It was obvious that Justin was paranoid. He attempted to cock an eyebrow. �Ah, let�s get to work,� the psychologist continued.� I understand that Britney hurt you. She was dishonest. She is just a dishonest person. Why do you love her so much?� Moisture had been caught on Justin�s bottom eyelashes. The doctor realized that his last question went too far. He tried to apologize with a toothless grin. The man talked some more, and then he was finally ready to leave. �You deserve better than her,� he said as he got up and rubbed Justin�s knee. A hypnotist with wild hair immediately entered the room after the psychologist. He held a gold watch in his left hand. He came off clumsy with his brown boots and unkempt outfit. �Hello,� he said in a gruff, deep, friendly, but serious voice. Justin blinked slowly and carefully with pleasure. The hypnotist appeared uncomfortable, but he began to explain himself anyway. �I�m going to help you keep yourself together when you think of or are mentioned to about Britney; so here goes.� He let the chain of the watch unfurl. �The watch is only to get you to focus. It�s not a weird thing we do. It�s just simple enough to work, and common too. Okay? Focus on it.� Justin�s eyes moved back and forth with the relic. �When you think of Britney, you will be reminded of your mother and yourself when you are together in a bar, enjoying a beer. You�re back home in Memphis playing your piano to an Al Green song, or playing Halo on your Xbox with Trace. When you are asked in an interview about Britney, you answer with fake hesitation and say �ah, it�s all good, I guess� in a nonchalant manner. When you feel like crying out for Britney, you think of the good times back home. Now, Justin, you must do this. It�s going to bother you if you don�t. Listen to me. You can�t afford to resist. Okay?� The man smiled again, stood up and the nurse wheeled Justin out. Justin was exhausted. He fell asleep right there. Justin awakened later to steady beeps. He was greeted by his mother who was rubbing his hand and gazing into his eyes, occasionally sniffling. �Justin,� she whispered, touching her delicate finger to his face. Justin let out a sigh of relief. He was able to rest assured he was okay; on the inside at least. He was extremely sore. It hurt even sitting. His eyes were heavy and the skin on his arms was starting to peel. His irritated legs didn�t want to walk. He was sweating, and he was sick to his stomach. He mumbled a �hey.� Lynn smiled. �Baby, you�re okay,� she said. �Guess so,� he said, returning the smile. �Britney still isn�t sorry, I guess,� his mother tested him. �Guess not, but hey, it�s cool,� Justin said proudly. They smiled for a second or two after that. Paul Harless stood in the doorway now, and Justin noticed. �Hey, Dad,� Justin said in a macho tone as he stretched out in his bed. Paul returned the greeting. �How�s it goin, man?� Mr. Harless asked. Their conversation continued like that: easy and manly. Lynn watched the two loves of her life in admiration. Soon Justin�s parents soon switched places with Justin�s best homeboy, Trace. They were brothers. They were close enough, at least. It was like that since the second grade. That�s the way it would be forever. Their conversation flowed like Justin and his dad�s. Many visitors came in for Justin in the next hour or so; and he was okay now. He completed his first solo album and it was released November fifth of that year. Between the surgery and album release, his life was almost painless. He dated a couple of high profile girls (or women compared to his age) in less than eight months, and he was a bachelor. Justin was just a rich bachelor. Things were good; they really were. He smiled often. Justin was content for a change, and he was able to start from the beginning with a great reputation as a boost. He had family, friends and champagne; Cristal; money. No steady girl, but that would consume too much for him. He was truly justified. |