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UPDATE (22 January 2002): I was glancing through this and realised just
how horrific my grammar and spelling gets in parts. So I'm editing it. Also,
I've decided to replace the lyrics to Britney's song "I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A
Woman" with my poem "Frituation" at the end. I figure y'all already know the
song anyway, and my poem really goes along with the fic MUCH better. I apologise
for posting this fic when it was such a mess, y'all! Hope it's more enjoyable
now! "Questions and Doubts" by Kellyanne Lynch 18 January 2002, 3:30 AM - 3:25 PM Disclaimer: I do not know Britney Spears, any members of *N SYNC, any siblings or parents of either. I also do not know any cousin's nephew's grandfather's mother-in-law's best friend's dog's neighbour's uncle of *N Sync or Britney. Most of the events of this story are real, just not with these characters, so chill. This story is mainly a means for me to vent, but it is also to entertain you, as is a purpose with most all fanfiction. So enjoy! Warning + A/N: Justin's a bit of a jerk in this fic. You know, it's funny - he's a jerk in MOST of the fanfics I've written in which he appears. I don't really think he's like that; I just tend to paint him that way for some reason. I really like the guy, so what's wrong with me? I don't know. If you think you're going to get offended by my turning Justin into somebody you'd hate, I suggest that instead you read my fic "Why's Britney So Nervous?". He's a sweetheart in that one. Another A/N: This is my first R-rated story. Not just fanfic. I mean EVER. But I really felt that this one deemed the rating. Yet a THIRD A/N: This fic takes place before Justin and Britney were dating. Summary: Britney feels threatened and confused by the one she loves Rating: R * Please email matchbox20orbusted@yahoo.com with questions, comments, theories, complaints, or words of wisdom -------------------------------------------------------- I have no concept as to how to even BEGIN to write about this. I can only say right off that I must have wanted it in a way. Maybe I thrive on getting burned. Should have written yesterday. Cause these past two days have been so overwhelming that I have no idea how I'll be able to record their events in any logical way... Logic. I hate it more than ever now. He used it to fuck with my head. I should at least go for some semblance of a beginning. Justin called me in the middle of the night last night, around 1 AM. I was completely out of it, having just performed the second to the last concert of this tour. But I was so glad to hear that gorgeous voice of his. Elated is more like it. See, I've been sweet on him ever since last summer, when we toured together. I know that he only thinks of me as a friend but… I wanted it to be more. And I got the impression that he did too, after that phone call. He said that he REALLY missed me, that *N SYNC had just wrapped up with their tour, and that he wanted to see me. Not just see me whenever, as usual. He was fixing to fly out to meet me, to be there for my last concert! He asked if I was okay with that. I could NOT get over that he was expressing that kind of interest in me, let alone enduring a long plane ride just to visit. So I'm like HELL YEAH! And, as soon as we got off the phone, I, like, skipped out of my hotel room on my merry little way. I was SO elated! I raced down the hallway to catch up with my mom, who was just a few doors down. She opened the door the same time that I rounded the corner, and we nearly smacked into each other. She gasped. "Honey," she panted, closing her eyes and holding her hand to her chest. "You scared me, scared me half to death!" When she opened her eyes, and caught sight of my face, she beamed. "What's the excitement?" So I told her all about it, and she actually seemed more excited about it than I was. She likes Justin, I know that. She always liked it when he came over to visit back in Florida, because she had such a good time just talking with him. I got to bed around four that night, so I could wake up at noon. Justin wouldn't be coming in until around three or three-thirty, but I wanted to primp and whatnot. I had narrowed my choices down to three shirts before I went to bed the night before: a hot pink ribbed shirt with huge princess sleeves, a purple shirt with pink sleeves and collar that had the number twenty-two on it and a dragon, and a really comfortable, really fuzzy V-neck sweater that my mom gave me last Christmas. The pants were the easy part; I just went with some hip-hugging jeans. Took me FOREVER to decide between those three shirts! I finally went with the sweater. I figured that it looked so cuddly that he would want to cuddle, if that even makes any sense. I showered and dressed, then had no idea what to do with myself. So I cleaned the hotel room a bit. I don't know why, but this time around, I got really slobby with leaving my clothes everywhere. I'm usually not THIS bad with making messes, but the place was a pig sty! I was putting an evening gown back on its hanger when Justin called and asked me what I was doing. I told him just sitting around, and he asked me to meet him at his room on the fourth floor, and to bring some tunes. He had just checked in. I snatched up some CDs, ones I figured were neutral. There's a lot of stuff that I listen to that he downright can't stand. I don't know why he asked me to bring over some music, because he can usually only tolerate what I like at best. I grabbed up some Goo Goo Dolls, Creed, Dave Matthews Band, and Elton John CDs. As I picked up the Dave Matthews Band album, I caught sight of Backstreet Boys Millenium. If Justin knew that I even OWNED that CD, I don't know what he would say! But, lately, that's like all I've been listening too. I don't really know why, I guess because it's just mushy and fun. I tucked the BSB album under my discman, then headed for the elevator. My mom doesn't like it when I go into a boy's room. I was thinking about that as the elevator ascended the shaft. She told me once that that's just asking for trouble. I shook my head with a smile. This was Justin we were talking about though! Like being with him could ever be dangerous! He opened the door before I even knocked, like he could sense my presence. One of his huge, inviting smiles eased across his face, and he gave me a hug. Then stepped back and motioned me to come in. He'd been playing a wrestling video game on his Sega Playstation. He says he's addicted to it now, and maybe we could play against each other some time while he's here. Actually, that's not how he worded it. What he actually said, with an even wider smile, was "Maybe we can wrestle with each other!" "Justin!" I'd smacked him across the arm with my left hand. As I was moving it back to my side, he grabbed by wrist. Leaned forward, put his arm around me, and kissed me on the cheek. You cannot imagine how happy I was right then, that Justin would actually want to kiss me. I rested my head against the side of his face. But, much to my disappointment, he stepped back just a minute later. "Hey, what tunes you got with you?" he asked. He tore the CDs out of my hand and started flipping through them. "Eh," he scrunched up his nose at each and shook his head. "Eh, eh, eh... ooh!" Giving a toothy smile to one CD in particular, he pulled out Goo Goo Dolls' Dizzy Up The Girl. I remember how the jewel case reflected light from the window onto Justin's face, like he was an angel. And, right then, I thought he was. He had his boom box propped up on top the hotel's television set. He had to bend over to plug it in. And, I can't deny it. I confess. I was checking out his butt. But I looked away when he stood upright. Brushing a curl out of his eyes, he loaded my CD in the player. Bopped his head to the beat as the first track began. "You're cynical and beautiful, you always make a scene," he sang along to Johnny Rzeznik as he glided across the room, toward me. "You're monochrome delirious, you're nothing that you seem. I'm drowning in your vanity, your laugh is a disease. You're dirty and you're sweet, You know you're everything to me." Slinging an arm over my shoulder, he held me close. I felt my face heating up and my pulse quicken as he squeezed my shoulder. And I almost squealed when he sang the chorus in my ear, at a whisper: "Everything you are, falls from the sky like a star. Everything you are, Whatever ever you are." I nuzzled my head up to his cheek. This was perfection. I could have stayed in that moment my whole life. But, as I heard in a poem once, nothing golden ever stays. The song ended, and he let go of me. Crossed the room and shut off the CD, just as "Slide" was starting up. "I LOVE that song!" he announced, grinning from ear to ear. "Just so beautiful." His eyes zeroed in upon mine. "So beautiful." He plunked down on the edge of the bed, facing the TV set. "Wanna play wrestling now?" he asked me, his eyes bright and big and beautiful. He patted the spot on the bed beside him, and I sat down. As I was reaching for the Playstation controllers, he grabbed hold of my shoulders and kissed me. This time, on the lips. I was like WOW! I had been hoping that we would kiss a little, that he would want to kiss me. And here he was, with his lips on mine. Kissing got deeper. Then he laid me back on the bed and slid halfway on top of me. It was then that I started feeling that something wasn't right. I pushed him back. I knew that it couldn't go on any longer without voicing how far I was willing to go. It was tough to talk about it, to articulate my stand. That my belief was that you should not go all the way until marriage. "But we were only kissing," he replied. He raised an eyebrow at me, and shook his head. Seemed a bit confused. But I think that's the only time when HE was the one who was confused. After that, I completely took up that role. I felt like we were going to go too far, just tonight. I kept trying to say it, tripping over my words and coming out with half sentences. Finally, I just said straight out that I wouldn't go past first base. When he laughed, I knew that I had sounded like a kid. First base! Who our age still used terminology like that? I just didn't know how to say it any other way. And that's when his "why" game started up. After that, he questioned my every move. The first one was why I felt it wasn't right to go past first base when HE thought that further was okay. I told him that I didn't want to get as close to the line as possible, of what was moral and what wasn't. Again, why. And I couldn't answer every why. Each one became more difficult to reply to. I was so confused, not sure I've EVER been that confused. I could not think straight at all. He persisted with that why, until I finally thought of a way to answer. I told him about something that happened in Mickey Mouse Club, something that I had never told anyone. But I trusted Justin. It was one of the scariest things that had ever happened to me. My mom was late one day picking me up. I was waiting for her outside, but it was a windy day, and too cold to stand around. So I waited just inside the building. One of the Mouseketeers came by and asked what I was doing. I had had a crush on him. While we were talking, I don't know how it happened, but he leaned forward and kissed me. Then we really got into it, and he tried to take off my shirt. I wouldn't let him. So he tore it off. He shoved me into the corner and ran his hands all over me, under my clothes and everything. I felt so dirty. I don't know how many showers I took that night, just to get his scent off me. I could still taste him though. It made me want to throw up. I still can't believe it, but Justin burst into laughter. He asked me how many years ago was that, then wanted to know if he was pretty much the first one to have ever kissed me. He assumed yes, excluding that Mouseketeer boy, since we were only kids then. He started coaching me in how to kiss. I was so embarrassed, told him I probably kissed like a dog. But he told me he would teach me, and that it was okay. He told me that, first, I had opened my mouth too much, and that I had to be careful not to bite his lip, because that would draw blood. That I didn't need to always open my mouth. That it was okay to give a little tongue back. That I needed to turn my head to the side, because that made it easier to kiss. He probably told me more too, but that's all I remember. Apparently, I'm a rotten kisser. I started practicing all that, and I was concentrating more on trying to kiss good than on his wandering hands. When he'd move his hands around my body, I'd put my arm down. Pretty much reflex. And he kept pushing it back up. But then he hit a sensitive spot on my side, and I flinched. He stopped. With a huge smile, he said, "You're ticklish, aren't you." It wasn't too long after that we stopped kissing and were just talking, lying in each other's arms, Justin half over me. He seemed to be talking to my chin when he said, "Britney? There's a lot you don't know about my past." That's when he started in on his story. And that's the thing. That's JUST the thing! Most of it was just that, a story, and I have no idea why he was telling it to me. He had to have known that I knew his past pretty thoroughly for him to be able to fool me. But he went on anyway. Told me that, when his parents got divorced, his mother didn't want him but took him anyway. He said that she used to beat him, that he'd been raped by family members at a young age. Maybe, just MAYBE that part would have been believable if I hadn't known his mom so well. I mean, she was practically a second mother to me! She was very loving, and I knew she cared for him deeply. But it got more far fetched than that. Justin told me that he took off when he was fourteen, lived in New York for a while where he got involved with a gang. He said he became the leader too, after he took on a group of guys and the leader at the time. He told me that he'd been shot and stabbed and that he has so many scars on his torso that it scares girls when he takes off his shirt. But, now that he has money, he's paying for cosmetic surgery. Next, he went on to discuss being picked up for possession of cocaine, and he confessed to having done a lot of drugs in his time. He said he's also been arrested for assault and battery, but he swore that it was from jumping into fights to help a friend. Then Justin grabbed my arm. And I remember his next few sentences more clearly than I remember my address. "I'm a gentle guy," he insisted. He squeezed my bicep, and I gasped from the sudden pain. "Really! I mean, yeah, I've had my problems with fighting and getting into trouble. But everybody says how much like a woman I am. After I got out of that gang, I started hanging around with gay guys, like JC and Lance. And people think our whole group is effeminate. They say how gentle I am, that I wouldn't hurt a fly. But I'm a street fighter too. And if anybody, ANYBODY pisses me off, I'll beat the living shit out of them." I was holding my breath, afraid to do anything but keep my eyes trained on his. And remain very, very still. Then he smiled and told me about a band he was in before *N SYNC. He said that, in New York, he had been the lead singer and the bass player of a band called Paradise Lost. Shaking his head, he told me how much he missed that. Immediately, Justin started talking about this girl he dated. He said she was like me, didn't want to do anything more than kissing. But then she liked it when he touched her. When he ran his hands all over her body and groped her. He said that, when he started to finger her, she wanted him to go all the way with her but that he wouldn't. As he spoke, his hand moved on my breast. Then whispered that I could trust him, that anything over the clothes was okay, that it would have been different if he tried to go up my shirt. That he wouldn't do that. I wasn't thinking for myself. I let him reason for me. So we were kissing some more. I liked it when he kissed my neck. It was really ticklish and sensitive at first, but then it was fine. His hand was all over my right breast, just kind of rubbing it. And I just let him. He apparently wasn't satisfied with that, because he went for between my legs. And I stopped him. Again with the why. I knew it would have been easier to have just given in, because... it wasn't fighting him physically, but mentally. Trying to reason with him was so tough. He liked to use the previous activity to justify the next. I can't remember all his logic, but it was compelling at the time. I just knew that I couldn't give in. I couldn't think straight, I was just so overwhelmed with what was going on. But I knew then why I had made decisions about sex before I got into this type of situation. I told him that I really couldn't explain why, that I was having a hard time forming a thought, but I had already made up my mind. And that, even if I couldn't rationalise on the spot, I knew where I stood. Justin moved back. Asked if all my past relationships were just holding hands and kissing on the cheek. When I nodded, he chuckled to himself. "That's so childish," he shook his head. Then leaned closer to me. "You've never really been in a REAL relationship then. Don't you want to be a woman?" That really upset me. Just remembering him saying that is making my eyes well up. The physical aspect is NOT where it's all at! And maybe I wasn't a woman yet, but that's not the kind of woman that I want to be! But, at the time, I was thinking, 'Just DON'T get him mad!' So I didn't say anything. He got to REALLY scaring me after that. "See that bag?" he asked, pointing to his gray knapsack with its maroon handles. I glanced over at it. 'JRT' was stitched in the middle of the handle facing us, but I knew that's not what he wanted to show me. He was actually pointing to the patches off to the side. One said "psycho". The other one "punk". "I got those because that's who I am," he informed me, his eyes training on mine. "I got them at Hot Topic." I managed a nervous smile. "Oh I LOVE Hot Topic!" I had replied, and I remember thinking about this really cool pair of shades I'd bought there once. Grimacing at me, Justin shook his head. Had I said something wrong? "How can you go into a store like that when you claim to be a Christian?" he sneered at me with disgust. "They sell gothic stuff. And that's of the Devil." He nodded in agreement with himself. "It's not ALL goth," I replied, and he glared at me. "MOST of it IS!!!" he hissed through his teeth. I shuddered beneath him, and he grinned. A very toothy grin. "Did you know I'm part vampire?" he asked, clear out of nowhere. He pointed to the light across the room. "See that light? I can't look directly at it, or it'll blind me. That's why I have to wear sunglasses all the time when I go out." His eyes wandered up and down my body, and I shivered. Smirking, he made eye contact with me. "I see fear in your eyes! Are you afraid of me?" He sounded like he had no idea why. I shook my head. I didn't want to admit how frightened I was, not to him because I feared him using it against me. But also not to myself. He nodded knowingly. "You have to trust me, baby," Justin whispered, his forehead against mine. And his lips met mine again as well. I really was pushing it. I know. I knew it then too and don't know why I let it continue. I know he was getting aroused, could feel it against my leg. And his hand made it back in between my legs. I was tired of arguing, so tired. And tired of being scared. I figured, rationalising with HIS reasoning, 'What could it hurt?' My body reacted to his touch. It was awkward at first, having somebody touch me there, but then my body really took to it. And liked it. My thoughts were all jumbled up but for one minute - no, really only a second - they were clear enough for me to push him away. I told him that I was NOT comfortable with this, that it was against my conscience, and not to do it. He snarled at me. Actually bared his fangs like he was a vampire. Don't think I'll ever forget how dark his baby blues became as they glared at me. And he was like that for what felt like a couple of minutes. I froze. I didn't know what he was going to do next, if he'd pick up where he'd left off, if he'd try to bite my neck, if he'd rape me. I had no idea what he was thinking. And that scared me more than anything else that evening. "Do I look like a vampire?" Justin asked in a gruff voice. Slowly I nodded. Then he kissed me some more and behaved himself. At least for a while. Then he moved back and just looked at me. Ran his hands through my hair and asked what colour exactly my hair was naturally. "Some type of, type of brown," I stuttered, staring up at him. He brushed through my hair a little bit more, then patted between my legs. "What colour is it down there?" "B, Brown." I held my breath. I knew where this was leading. Raising his brow, he looked at the wall behind us. "Humph," he sighed, like he didn't believe me. He looked back at me, gazing intently into my eyes. "Can I see?" "No?" Again, the why. "Don't you trust me? Do you think I'd try to touch you or something? Because I wouldn't." I still said no. He pleaded a bit but eventually gave up. We got back to kissing. And his hand made its way beneath my shirt. I let it happen. After he'd felt around under there a bit, he sat back. "You have a beautiful body, Britney," Justin smiled. "You're beautiful." Looking down, at where our feet were all tangled up, I replied, "I don't think so." "You're beautiful!" he repeated. He traced circles on my stomach, then lifted up my shirt. Lifted it enough to see the very bottom of my bra. "Why you wearing a sports bra?" he asked me with a furrowed brow. "It's comfortable." He shrugged, then nodded. Then tickled me. He was tickling me so much that I thought I was going to roll right off the bed. When I was almost about to pee my pants, he asked me to take off my shirt. "I've already seen your stomach." I said no. More whys. "I'd rather not." "That's your answer to everything!" he scoffed. I bit my lip. "Well, then I'm not comfortable with that." He told me more than once that I shouldn't do this with other guys, that if I'd let them get as far as he had, they'd be grabbing me and trying to strip me. He tugged at the waist of my jeans several times as if to demonstrate what other guys would do, and said he was only joking around. "Just checking to see that you're wearing clean underwear," he'd smirked. Said he was trying to make me feel more relaxed, but it had the opposite effect. "You know," he told me. "Other guys would force themselves on you. But I," he swept a hair out of my face. "I am different. I'm a gentle guy." That scared me, how many times he said it, like I should be grateful to him and be like, "Okay, do anything you want with me then." I don't know if he got bored or if he just knew we wouldn't be doing anything else and so trying would be pointless. But shortly after he tried to get me to take off my shirt, Justin said we should go down to dinner. In the hotel's dining room, soft music was playing. And it happened to be the Backstreet Boys' "Quit Playing Games With My Heart". "Aw!" Justin had grumbled as he reached for a roll from the centre of the table. "Why are they playing this shit?" He shook his head. "You know, I'm going to be right back. I'll get them to put on something good." With that, he stormed away. I sighed as I watched after Justin. I could probably go run back to my room and lock him out. I was that afraid of him that I would have, if I hadn't known he would just go after me. Instead, I just listened to the music. Thinking about the Backstreet Boys and boy bands in general got me depressed. I wondered if the Backstreet Boys would have pulled what Justin had. If the rest of *N SYNC would. If all guys were like this. I shook my head. I didn't know Backstreet all too well, but I knew that the guys of *N SYNC just seemed like such nice guys. I know at least one of them isn't a virgin anymore; Joey's got a daughter. But that's not what I'm concerned about. Would they play mind games with a girl, just to have a good lay, convince her she wanted it when she profusely said she didn't and had to reset boundaries because the guy forgot or didn't care? The music changed to a Boys II Men tune, and Justin came marching back. "That's better!" he mumbled. He threw himself into his chair and looked around. "Where the fuck is our dinner?" I didn't say anything the whole time we were there. I just kept looking at other tables, at other couples. I thought of how many times I've envied them and have wished that I had a guy who truly cared about me. And here I was with Justin, a guy that I've loved since... Other guys have come since I first met him, and at times I've been conflicted. But I've always loved Justin. Now... I shook my head. I don't think he's really interested in me as a person. Just as an object. He was horny and wanted someone to sleep with. So many girls would have jumped in bed with him. Why did he fly all the way out here to be with me then? He told me when we were making out that he wouldn't touch me if he didn't think I was beautiful. And I believe him. I think that he thinks I'm beautiful, but only physically. I heaved a sigh. We took FOREVER at dinner. I had a headache that was just getting worse the more I tried to organise my thoughts. Finally we left. We filed into the elevator, and he hit the 4 button. I hit 2. "What are you doing?" he raised his eyebrows. For a minute, he looked lost. "Aren't you going to come back to my room? We can see a movie! I brought Kickboxer 2 with me." I was going to just go along with it, though it scared the hell out of me just thinking about going back into Justin's room with him. But my head really REALLY hurt. And my thoughts were still racing. Ever since dinner, I was thinking about needing to call somebody. I so very badly wanted to talk to Lance, but then I wasn't sure. I was afraid that he would be ashamed of me. And maybe I should speak with a girl. A woman, rather. I thought about my mom. But I couldn't tell her about this. I'd only worry her, and would probably disappoint her more than anyone else. She raised me to be a good girl, and here I hadn't been. The elevator door opened on floor two, and Justin got out with me. He held his hand at the base of my neck as we walked down the hallway, toward my room. He kissed me just outside the door. "Don't go kissing any other guys," he ordered. "You're my girl now." He smiled. I clenched my teeth, working my damnedest not to shudder. "Now I want to hear YOU say it!" I swallowed hard. "I'm your girl." I lied a lot tonight. Like he asked if he could hang out tomorrow morning, but I said I was busy all day. I told him the reason I wanted to end our date was because I had to get up at 5 AM so I could go over some new dance moves. He kept saying how he'd miss me. I think he meant how he'd miss my body. Or maybe he liked that he could scare me. He knew I was afraid, said so, said he saw it in my eyes, yet persisted. That's probably the one thing that made me the most sick. My head was aching SO BAD! I put on Backstreet Boys and decided that they could calm me. Be there for me. I ended up crying. All those ideals in their songs just hurt to think about. And "Show Me The Meaning" made me think of Lance, how badly I wanted him to be there to comfort me right now. That's when I knew I was going to call him. But as I reached for it, the phone rang. I froze. Flashbacks of my Mouseketeer days came to mind. That boy who had forced himself on me, there was more to that than I had told Justin. He had also used to stalk me. As the phone continued to ring, I tried to remember who that kid was. It had been when I had first started out there, so I didn't know many people's names then. But I couldn't help but wonder. Was it... it couldn't have been. At long last, the phone stopped ringing. I lay down on my bed and picked up the receiver. By memory, I dialed Lance's number. "Hello?" Joey had answered the phone. Good ol' Joey. Just knowing he was on the other end made me feel a bit at ease. I asked him if Lance was there, and he said he'd just driven up to the house and was on his way in. Few seconds later, Lance was on the line. I had no idea how I'd get into discussing all this with Lance. When I said hi, he sounded happy to hear from me and asked what's up and how am I doing. I told him not well, and he wanted to know why. I started it all off with "I had a really bad date." It took me a while to get into it, but Lance was patient. I think I scared him though. He asked right off if I was okay. I told him bits and pieces at first, weaved it into an outline, then filled in details. I told him that it wasn't just the physical contact that was troubling me but also Justin's mind games. Lance didn't pry. He also sounded hesitant in what he told me, said he really didn't want to say the wrong thing. Lance did ask me some straight forward questions though, like did Justin force himself on me. And later he asked if I'd had sexual intercourse. I answered no to both, and he sighed with relief. "Britney, I love you," was one of the first things he'd said after all the main things were out. Quickly followed by, "I'm proud of you." He said it took courage to do what I did, and that I was an encouragement to him in his Christianity. I told Lance that I wasn't proud of myself. Think that's the first time I started crying while on the phone with him. I told him that I let it get too far and that I could have and SHOULD have stopped earlier. Lance told me some things tonight. We both told each other stuff in confidence. Lance told me that he's "impure", as he put it. Since then, he's repented. He said that's why I was a real encouragement. I told him though that it's like having one dish clean in a filthy house. He laughed at that analogy, said it reminded him of when Joey said he's made a lot of mistakes but can say at least he's never done drugs. I couldn't believe what he told me tonight. I mean, with his confession, I had my suspicions before. I didn't think he'd done as much as he had, but I knew he'd gotten into trouble with stuff like that. "Britney," he said at one point, after I told him how lonely I felt. He paused for a long time. "I want to give you some hope. There's... someone who has, um, who, uh, has... liked you for some time now, but he, um, he's been afra- afraid to talk to you." My hand went over my heart. What was Lance trying to say? The way he was tripping over his words, could it mean... There was just no way he was talking about himself. But I held my breath anyway, just praying that he was. I was so wrapped up in anticipation that I hadn't realised how long Lance paused. "He's," Lance whispered, "he's known you for a long time, and, and don't tell him I told you..." More and more, this was sounding like somebody else. I held back a sigh. "He's liked you since your, since your MMC days together, and he talks about you, like, all the time..." GOOD NIGHT!!! NO WAY!!! My hand went over my mouth to keep myself from exclaiming this. "Brit? Do you, do you like JC at all?" I had no idea how to answer. At that point in time, I didn't even know if I preferred mustard or mayonnaise on my sandwiches. My brain wasn't and still really isn't in a state to think about that too much yet. I still had that brain crushing headache, and on top of that, all these thoughts soaring around in the fog of mass confusion. So I told Lance just that, that I really couldn't think about it at the moment. Lance says he's going to try to call me more often now. He told me more than once that he loves me and is proud of me. I should have told him how I love him back, but I didn't. Today, now technically yesterday since it's past midnight now, just seems so full of regrets. Lance is an incredible friend. He minimises himself, but he is really there for me like no one else has been. I seem to come across some really awesome guys. I was thinking about that on the way to see Justin today. But now I know that he's not included in that. But Lance is. When I got off the phone with him though, I was very much in pain. Mentally a wreck, but also, my head hurt so, SO bad, and I was getting sharp pains in my sides. And I was sick to my stomach. I went and swallowed three painkillers, then went to sleep in my clothes. I woke up at 3:30 this morning with most of the headache gone. I was going to try to go back to sleep, but I couldn't. Lance advised me to stay away from Justin, and to call the police if he doesn't stop harassing me. He even said he'd call Justin and tell him to leave me alone. That just made me smile. My hero! Lance would really go tell off Justin for me? Even if he'd come off as the jealous boyfriend or something? He asked if he was the first one I'd called. It was probably obvious that he was, cause I was so out of it. It's light out now. 8:15 AM. I am at a really weird place in my life. I know that things are different now. Things have changed, and I am no longer a kid anymore. But, because of what's happened, I feel like I'm that little girl again, being cornered by that Mouseketeer. Whether or not it's the same person really isn't the issue. I just feel so small. But I am neither a girl nor a woman. I don't know what I am, but I need to find my way. When I recover a bit from this, I need to REALLY get some direction in my life. Because I can't afford to be a kid anymore. THE END -------------------------------------------------- "Frituation" by Kellyanne Lynch aka dearjoan 17 January 2002, 4:10 AM I stepped into the lion's den And taunted the beast Then got out with my life Aren't you proud of me? Don't I have courage To be caught red handed And then to be honest? Rationalisations + judgments And screwings with my head I walk in the valley of confusion And I feel no me Only an object beneath the beast One to be devoured Then discarded Now I am only a carcass Gutted and agape The blue vibrance of my veins fades to red And then I can no longer bleed There is nothing TO bleed I hold my head in my hands As it pulsates and aches I shake it and ask it why But there's no one inside to pick up For he's taken that too And now we come full circle The repetitions of the past loop Into the beginning And become one One ultimate, vicious cycle That I am destined to relive I am twelve years old again Twelve With ten years of bloody experience I made it through last time But now... Now, There's not much left of me I'll offer my soul up As a living sacrifice But only after it is hopelessly marred Only after I've become a scar And it all could have been helped |