"Wait, Justin, are you sure?" JC jumped in.

"Yeah, it's my story anyway. I'm okay with it. It won't make me go crazy by telling what happened." Justin said.

"Okay..." JC mumbled.

"This sounds interesting." Triscia leaned up against JC's dresser. "Do tell."

"Okay... it's a really long story that goes back to this summer, a really long time ago, during our summer tour."

"Yeah, summer, decades ago, I don't even remember what I was wearing." Triscia deadpanned.

"Well it is a long time ago. It’s practically winter now!” Justin huffed. “But anyways, let me get on with it." Justin looked up thoughtfully. "Where to begin. Okay, we used to have a tour manager named Carl-"

"What's a tour manager?" Triscia jumped in.

"A person that manages a tour." Justin gave her a funny look. "Duh. So anyways, we had a tour manager named Carl. He was the meanest mofo I ever met in my LIFE. Someone was always doing something wrong or being yelled at and sweared at and threatened and stuff. Threats like walking to the nest venue and being put in solitary confinement. Looking back at it now, it was pretty funny. Back then, it really wasn't. It was me Carl picked on the most. Though he never actually made anyone walk to the next venue, he came close with me once. Every night after a show he would talk to me privately and scream and berate me. Whatever I did was never good enough. So, we tried complaining about him, but it would be a while before they fired him, so we were stuck.

"One night, something really bad happened, I don't really remember now, but I know it was enough to get me really hot and embarrassed and angry. Mostly angry. Angry at Carl. Very, very angry at him. I never thought it possible to hate someone, really, y'know. Like when you say ‘I hate you’ or something, that intense feeling only lasts for a few minutes. But thishate... this hate stayed with me all the time. It made me angry all the time. It affected everything I did. That's what real hate is. It's not fun to feel. So that night, I sat alone on my bunk and I was thinking. I was thinking about how much he grates my nerves. Then I thought really clearly and I meant it with my whole heart--or at least I'm convinced I meant it-- I thought 'I wish he would die'. It sort of made me feel better.

"Later that night, I had to get Carl to come on because it was time for sound check. Everyone had left, I walked to the front of the bus alone. I'll never forget the echo of my lonely footprints or how pale Carl looked when I got to him.

“'Sound check.' I told him. He didn't answer. He began to make weird choking sounds. Then I knew something was really wrong. He began to gasp and choke and gurgle. He grabbed at his chest and started jerking, gasping and choking. It was an awful, awful sound. I knew something was horribly wrong. 'Help me!' I screamed. 'Help!' but no one was there. It was just me and Carl. He slid off the chair and was on the floor, gasping, making noises of pain. Clutching his chest... all I could do was watch. I was frozen. I knew I should run but I just watched. Tears ran his face, his lips were blue, his eyes looking at me, looking at me, all the time looking at me. I couldn't move, I couldn't move. I just stood there while he... he was dying.

"'Justin...' he rasped. I wanted to ask him. I wanted to ask him what he saw. Did he see a light? Did he see hell? Were they real? Was there a God. If so, why was God making Carl die right in front of me and why the hell couldn't I move? 'Justin...' he repeated. He couldn't breathe. I was shaking. I couldn't say a word. 'Justin...' he said again, eerily calm. Then, he stopped. Stopped gasping, jerking, gurgling, the only thing I could hear was the sound of my own healthy beating heart, signaling how alive I truly was. I approached him slowly, put my fingers on his neck for a pulse. His skin was not cold and hard like you'd think, but warm and soft, like he was alive. There was no pulse. People don't die with their eyes closed, all nice like on TV. He was still looking at me with cold dead blue eyes. It made me shudder. Those eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life."

"So a guy died in front of Justin that everyone hated and that's why you must leave?" Triscia asked.

"Not finished." Justin told her. "He apparently died of a heart attack, After Carl's death I heard various people talking about 'the drugs, the drugs, it must of been the drugs.' That was surprising, I never pegged Carl for a user. Meanwhile, I wasn't getting over it very well. We didn't go to the funeral because we had to work. We got a new tour manager. The overall feel with our group was that it was sad because he died, but it wasn't that sad cause nobody liked him. Terrible, I know! I couldn't get his death off my mind. Whatever I did, whatever someone told me, I could not get rid of the irrational nagging thought that I, Justin Timberlake, had inadvertently caused Carl's death when I made that wish one night.

"Our new tour manager was much more humane and nice. She was a girl, which made it all the more rewarding. Too bad she had a boyfriend, who would hang around in a creepy way without talking most of the time.

"'Hey,' he said to me, one day. 'Let's talk, Justin.'

“'About... what?' I said. We were outside and the sun was shining.

“'This is the only place where they don't have the cameras.' he said.

“'What?' I asked, having no idea what he was talking about

“'My name is Conner, and I've got some information for you, Justin, but I've gotta be quick. Leave Transcontinental now. You don't wanna be around when it all blows up.'

“'What blows up?' I asked.

“'Transcon has their hands in everything.' Conner told me. 'Get out now' 'I don't understand.' I said. 'There's not enough time to explain. I'll just tell you this, Transcontinental is not what you think. They are working on some experimental drugs and the government is about to shut them down and they'll want all of their experiments eradicated.'

“'What?' I yelped. 'What kind of drugs? What experiment? On who?' I finally asked. 'Mind control.'

Conner finally said. 'Everyone's their experiment.'

“'Even me?' I asked.

Conner shrugged. 'More than likely. Look you won't understand, you can't. Just trust me. Get out.' I gave him a funny look... funny doesn't even begin to describe it. 'You want proof?' I nodded slowly. He gave me a set of keys. 'There's your proof.' I closed my hand slowly, still contemplating what he said. Then, he was gone. Our tour manager too."

"Okay," Triscia jumped in again. "So your girl tour manager’s boyfriend gave you, Justin, random information and a set of keys that he didn't even tell you where to use them?"

"Yeah. We got another tour manager and finished the tour, sometime inearly October. After that we had some downtime, I think."

"Justin!" Triscia exclaimed. "Stop talking like early October was amillion years ago. It's November 6th, the first last saturday in November of the millennium. October was a month ago."

"Okay, okay, so the not so long time ago of October we had some downtime. I still had those keys. I knew where I was going to use them. In the Transcon studios there is a wing where no one goes but all the big wigs, the executives of Transcon. I'd never been in there myself, but somehow I knew the keys belong to that corner. I let myself into the big offices and saw a whole bunch of nothing. Just lavish offices and candy, which I helped myself too. At the back of the forbidden offices was a whole wall devoted to file cabinets. They were all locked. I fiddled with the keys till I found the one that unlocked the file cabinets. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of papers. Files, filed from A to Z. I tried reading someof them but they were all in code. I remember Sub: 3412, Admin: T-91, P.R.: 10, that's what they all were like. I couldn't make heads nor tails of it. One paper blew my mind though. Across the top was stamped DECEASED in red ink. At the bottom of all the code was scribbled in handwriting, Carl Valen, inadequate findings, decrease dosage on all new E.D.s. That was all it said, that didn't make much sense, but it was then I thought I might believe Conner. That Transcon was doing... something.

"They are doing something, Trish. I'm not sure it's as extreme as Conner told me, but they are doing something. Something that's not right. So I told the guys and we decided we couldn't be affiliated with them anymore. We didn't want to be associated with that. And that's why. That’s why we left RCA and Transcon."

"So what are they doing?" Triscia asked. "What else did you find?"

"Well besides the papers, pictures of cruel experiments to animals was all I found." Justin said. "Nasty pictures."

"Like human/animal porn?"

"Not that nasty."

"Happy now Triscia?" Lance cut in. "Heard our crazy story. Don't tell anyone."

"Secrets, secrets..." Triscia teased. "I promise!"

"I think Carl's death had something to do with the experiments." Joey said all of a sudden. "Personally."

"I think that the Conner dude was exaggerating." JC said. "But the animal thing is not right."

"I think I want to find out the truth." Justin added.

"So what's the plan again--" Chris was interrupted by the turning of the doorknob and the opening of the door.