Philosophy

by >>Jae

Justin got in his car, still in just his sweatpants, and drove to Chris' place. When he got there, he realized he'd forgotten his keys. He banged on the door and shouted for Chris. No one answered. He kept banging and shouting until the cops came. They tried to make him leave. He punched Johnny's number in on his cell phone and handed it to one of them. He sat on the steps and hugged his knees, watched as she talked and then listened. When she hung up, she sat down next to him on the steps.

"Honey," she said, "no one's in that house." Justin looked at her dully. He let her guide him back to his car. She shut the door after he got in and leaned in the window. "I know you probably don't want to hear this now," she said, "but these things usually work out for the best, in the end."

Justin felt like yelling at her, hitting her, but he had no defense against her soft words. He put his head down on the steering wheel. His cell phone rang. He grabbed it quickly and looked at the display. It was Johnny. He turned it off and put his head back down. He heard someone knocking on the window. He sat up, put the car in reverse, and drove away.

He checked his messages when he got home. Calling Johnny maybe hadn't been such a good idea. There were two messages from him, one from Lance, three from JC. Justin thought for a minute, then got back in the car.

He beat frantically on Joey's door until he heard a baby cry inside. Good, he thought. Good. The door swung open, and Joey stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him.

"Justin," Joey said, his voice low. "Justin."

"Let me in," Justin said. He tried to push past Joey.

"Justin," Joey said. "I can't."

"Fuck you, Joey, let me in the goddamn house," Justin said. Joey shook his head.

"Kirkpatrick!" Justin screeched, throwing himself against Joey. "Get out here, you fucking coward!"

"Justin," Joey said soothingly, running a hand down Justin's arm. Justin punched him hard in the stomach.

"Quit that," Joey said, coughing and shoving him away. Justin stumbled backwards down the steps and fell on his back on the lawn. He turned over and slammed a fist against the hard ground. Joey knelt down next to him.

"Justin," Joey said.

"Fuck you," Justin said. "Why are you taking his side?"

"I'm not," Joey said helplessly. "It's just. He got here first." Justin closed his eyes. He couldn't argue with that.

"I didn't even do anything, Joey," Justin said. "It wasn't my fault. He knows, he knows people make that shit up. And I told him, I said I'd break up with her. I said I'd do anything, and he just. He won't."

"I know," Joey said. "I know."

"He left me a fucking note, did he tell you that? A note."

"I know," Joey said. He touched Justin's hair tentatively. Justin put his head on Joey's thigh. He wasn't crying.

"I don't understand," Justin said. "I don't know why he's doing this. I don't understand him."

"I know," Joey said. "I know."

"Please, Joe," Justin said. "Please, just let me talk to him for a minute. I swear I won't yell, or anything. Just for a minute? Please?"

Joey sighed. "Justin," he said. "I can't. I'm sorry. I can't."

"Fuck you," Justin said without heat. Joey's hand continued to move through Justin's hair. "You could if you wanted to."

"Justin," Joey said after a minute. "Let me call C, okay?"

"No," Justin snapped.

"It's just. The neighbors are watching us."

"I don't care," Justin said. "If it bothers you so much, let me in the fucking house."

"I don't. It's not that," Joey said. "It's just. I'm sure somebody's called the press by now. They'll be here soon."

Justin pushed his face into Joey's jeans. He knew Joey was right. "Please," he whispered, even though he knew Joey wouldn't change his mind. "Please."

"Justin," Joey said. "I'm calling JC."

Justin got up. "Tell him I hope he's fucking miserable," he said.

"He is," Joey said softly.

When Justin got home, JC was sitting in his kitchen. "Oh, Justin," JC said, getting up.

"Get out," Justin said, pushing past him.

"I'm so sorry," JC said, following him. He reached for Justin's arm, and Justin pulled away.

"I said get out," Justin said. He tried to close his bedroom door in JC's face. JC put a hand around the door and held it open. "If you don't get out right now, JC," Justin gritted, "I'll beat you up. I swear I will." JC looked at him. He didn't move. Justin clenched his fist, pulled his arm back. JC looked at him. Justin dropped his hand. "Just. Please, C, please. Just leave me alone."

JC reached out for him again. "C," Justin said, the name stretching out in his mouth. He felt tears in his eyes for the first time since he woke up.

"You know where I am when you need me," JC said, and left.

Justin went to bed.

He didn't get up except to use the bathroom and to check his messages. No one ever called, only JC a bunch of times, and his mom, and Lance, and Joey, and Johnny.

On the third day, he heard someone downstairs. He didn't get up, but lay in bed and listened to the footsteps. He was a mess, he knew. He stank, and that morning he had had to crawl into the bathroom. He was hungry, he thought, the gnawing ache in his stomach so much less painful than the larger ache that consumed him that it was almost comforting. He was a big fucking mess, he knew. He was glad.

When the footsteps died away, Justin made his way slowly down the stairs. No one was there. A bag of groceries sat on the kitchen table. Next to it was a note in JC's precise pretty hand. He crumpled the note up and threw it in the corner without reading it. He took a poptart out of the bag and ate it. He threw up in the sink.

He went back to bed.

Three days later, he knew no one was going to call. He took a shower, sitting in the tub with his back against the wall as the water hit him. He thought about what he was going to do, then he tried not to think at all. Finally, long after the water had turned cold, he got out of the shower. He dried off and got dressed, his teeth still chattering. When he walked back out into his room, there was someone standing at the window with his back to him.

His heart leapt a split second before he realized it was JC.

"Get out," Justin said.

JC turned to him. "Justin," he said.

"I bet you're happy now," Justin said.

JC flushed bright red, as if he'd been struck. "How can you think that?" he said. "I know you're hurting, but you have to -- "

"What do you want?" Justin said.

"I want to help you," JC said.

Justin laughed. "You can't help me," he said.

"Justin," JC said. "I can, if you let me. I want to."

Justin thought a minute. "There is one thing you can do for me," he said. JC looked at him expectantly. "Leave your keys on the table," Justin said.

"What?" JC said.

"Leave your keys on the table," Justin said, "and get out." JC put a hand over his mouth. Justin watched. He had thought it would make him feel better to see someone else hurting for a change. He was right.

"No," JC said, and left.

Justin knew he'd be back soon.

He went to Britney.

Someone had told her, obviously, Justin realized when he arrived. That was why she hadn't been calling him. She kissed him lightly when he came in and tried to lead him into the bedroom. Justin pulled away and lay down on the couch. She sat in the armchair and watched him. He closed his eyes.

When he woke up, he was alone. Someone had thrown a blanket over him and tucked a pillow beneath his head. He closed his eyes and went to sleep again.

Britney let him stay on the couch. She came in and out quietly, bringing him gifts of magazines and chocolates from the gift shop and leaving them on the table for him. She ordered room service every night, even if she was going out, and left it in the room for him. She didn't say anything if he didn't touch it. She sat on the floor next to the couch and tucked her knees up to her chest, watched him with wide eyes. He talked to her sometimes about it, stroking her hair. Sometimes he yelled and threw things. A few times he cried. Mostly he stared at the wall, or at the TV when she turned it on for him. She watched and listened.

No one called him.

Eventually Justin started thumbing carelessly through the magazines she left him. He started eating, first the chocolates and then the meals she had brought up for him. He took a shower. He flipped through the channels, one hand tangled in Brit's hair as she sat on the floor, leaning against the couch. When she got up to go to bed, Justin grabbed her hand and pulled her down.

Britney lay on top of him, letting him run his hands restlessly down her back. She pulled off her shirt when he tugged at the hem, squirmed out of her jeans. She straddled him and then bent down over him, touching her forehead to his. She watched him, her hair spilling down over him until all he could see was gold and brown. He ran his hands up over her stomach and traced the small scars beneath her breasts. She caught her breath and then sighed.

"I love you," she said. When he started to speak, she put his hand over his mouth. He put his hands around her waist and pushed gently until she got up, looking at him curiously. Justin took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

The next morning he got up and went out with her. He sat in the corner and watched her rehearse, watched her talk quietly to her director and her manager and her mother. She stood in the middle of the room as they measured her for a costume, her arms stretched out wide. She smiled at him when she caught his eye. His phone rang, and he glanced down at it quickly and then turned it off.

When Brit went into makeup, Justin checked his messages. No one had called.

Four days later, Justin went home. He called his mother and Johnny. He didn't call JC. At the mall, he got recognized and signed autographs for two hours. Three news crews came out and filmed him. He was all over the local stations that night.

No one called him.

The next day, he flew back to Britney. She smiled widely when he knocked on her door and didn't ask him where he'd gone. He sat down on the couch and she sat down next to him. He showed her what he'd gotten from his mom.

Brit slipped the ring onto her finger and stretched her arm out, looking at her hand. She clenched her fist, and the ring gleamed. Justin watched her. She smiled when she caught him looking.

"It's not," he said. "I just think. We fit together, I think."

"I know," she said. She opened her hand, spreading her fingers out, and the ring glinted in the light. Justin looked at her. Her lips were curved in a small smile that widened when she looked up at Justin. He had found her just after a workout. She was wearing track pants and her hair was tied up in a messy ponytail. He wondered briefly what she'd be wearing when they wrote the story up in the teeny magazines.

Britney laughed suddenly, a small sweet sound. "What?" he said.

"I was just thinking," she said. "How do you think you'll have asked me, when they break the news on TRL?"

He laughed, and pulled her into his lap. She leaned back against him. He laced his fingers through hers. She was trembling, just a little. The ring sparkled on her hand. "I love you," she said, looking up at him. He kissed her ear, her nose, the corner of her mouth.

"I know," Justin said.

They kept it to themselves for two weeks. He didn't know why. Britney didn't even tell her mother. His mother must have guessed when he asked her for the ring, but she didn't say anything and he didn't say anything. Finally he said, "I have to go tell them." Britney nodded. She didn't ask to come.

Justin took the easy way out. He called JC. JC had forgiven him, of course. He said he'd get all the guys together. He said, "Are you all right, Justin?"

"I'll be there at three," Justin said, and hung up.

When he walked into JC's living room, three anxious pairs of eyes met his. Chris was looking at the floor. Justin studied him. Chris looked the same. Chris looked up, and Justin met his gaze. Chris looked away. It had been a long time since that had happened.

Justin sat on the arm of JC's chair and told them. There was a minute of silence, and Justin bit his lip. Then JC put a hand on his cheek and said, "Oh, you'll be so happy. You'll be as happy as you deserve to be, I know it." Suddenly Joey and Lance were talking at once, congratulating him, sending messages to Brit, asking him about wedding plans. Justin watched Chris watch the floor.

The voices died out eventually and there was another awkward silence. Lance and Joey got up to leave, tousling his hair on their way out. JC stood up, then sat down.

"C," Justin said.

"I don't -- " JC said, standing back up uncertainly.

"Please," Justin said.

JC walked to the door and then turned back. "I'll be right upstairs if you need me, Justin," he said.

"Okay," Justin and Chris said irritably at the same time. JC left.

They looked at each other for a long moment.

Chris still looked the same to Justin. He thought wildly that even now, if Chris asked him, he'd fuck him one last time. If Chris asked him, he'd leave her, give it all up. But even as he thought it, Justin shook his head. He knew two things still. And he knew, the way he knew his own name, the way he knew two plus two equals four, that Chris would never ask.

Chris watched him, something soft and familiar in his eyes. Justin felt like Chris was searching for something in him, and he knew with a miserable certainty when Chris found it.

Justin thought of Britney, leaning against him, the ring sparkling between their linked fingers. He thought of her looking up at him and whispering to him, shyly and easily. Justin knew he wouldn't ask Chris anything.

"It's too late," Chris said.

"I know," Justin said. "But it wasn't. It is now. But it wasn't, then. It wasn't -- "

"It was," Chris said.

Justin looked at him. "I don't understand -- "

"I know," Chris said.

Justin looked down. He felt Chris' eyes on him.

"Justin," Chris said, "why are you doing this?"

Justin looked up angrily. Chris was asking him, like Justin was the one who had to explain himself. "Because everything's not a fucking test with her. She doesn't expect me to read her mind every single minute. She doesn't think I don't love her if -- " He stopped at the look on Chris' face.

"It wouldn't have mattered," Chris said. "It would have been like this, it always would have ended like this, even if I could have. Even if things were different." Chris took a deep breath and looked at Justin steadily. "Even if I'd said. Even if I'd asked. It would have been the same. Right?" Chris asked. "Right?"

Justin opened his mouth to tell him the truth. Then he stopped. Chris was asking, this one time. This one time, Justin knew what he wanted. This one time, Justin could give Chris what he was asking for.

"Yeah," Justin said softly. "I don't understand why, but I think it always was. I think it would have been. Yeah."

"Yeah," Chris echoed. Justin watched him and was glad that he'd done it for Chris.

"I loved you, though," Justin said suddenly. "I loved you." The words were for himself. The tense was for Britney.

"I know," Chris said.

There was a silence. It wasn't awkward. Finally Chris put a hand out toward Justin, and then let it fall. "This thing, with. Do you really. Are you sure you want to -- "

"She understands me," Justin said.

"Yeah, sure she does," Chris said. His voice was gentler than the words. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist."

"I understand her."

"J," Chris said, and Justin closed his eyes. "I know. I know I've got no right. After everything that's happened, I'm the last person." Chris sighed. "You owe yourself something, though. Don't do this. I know you don't love her."

Justin opened his eyes. "I do too," he said, and the words caught him by surprise. He thought it was true. "I do," he said again, lower, and something in Chris' eyes flickered and went out.

"All right," Chris said, and left.

Justin stood in the middle of the room, happiness hovering lightly just over the surface of his skin. He felt as if all he had to do was take a step forward, into it, to let it sink into him. But he couldn't move. His breath hitched on a small splinter of pain in his throat. It felt like adulthood. It felt like love. It felt like Chris.

Chris paused at the door, then turned and strode quickly back to Justin. He cupped Justin's face in his hand and looked at him.

"You love her," he said softly, and it didn't sound like a statement to Justin. It sounded like a command. Justin nodded, his chin slipping out of Chris' hand. Chris turned and walked out. Justin watched him go. He stood in the empty room a long time without moving.

Then he took a step forward.