Justin turned slowly down the potholed road. Dust flew up and met his nostrils, the acrid smell of neglected plants sharp in the air. He could comply. Justin felt the same way sometimes. Neglected.
The Jeep braked to a halt in front of a weedy meadow and a path could be seen carved through the dead grass. Justin made that path two years ago. Two years ago today, actually.
Musing, he shoved his hands into his old downy jacket, wishing like hell he had a pack of cigarettes. Justin had "quit" a month ago, but it hardly seemed like quitting when everyday he'd pay someone to get him some. Kind of defeated the purpose. He shrugged. Who gives a flying fuck?
When Justin reached his special place in the field, he continued his ritual. Laying down on his back, Justin counted the slowly appearing stars, wondering at the sheer mass of the universe. The stars always made him feel rather insignificant, but then, he supposed that that was what they were there for. God's way of bringing man back down to Earth, so to speak. (disclaimer: I actually don't believe in God, but it seemed to fit there. Just a point.)
The young man lay in that field for another hour, contemplating life. Not once in the space of...3 months now, did he think of what brought him there in the first place. Tucker.
Tucker Olmestead died 4 days after Justin first visited that fateful hospital. And yet, it hadn't bothered him much. Of course, he was in pain and canceled three performances, but somehow, Tucker's death just seemed right. Like everything was happening the way it was destined. Ironic, actually, considering Justin didn't believe in destiny. Rather, he chose his own fate, something not even God could ever take away. His ability to live his own life. Lately though, it seemed Justin was fighting a losing battle. Everything he did prompted scolding, mistakes, a loss of fans. Perhaps it'd been going on longer and Justin had been blinded by...by what? Love? Fame? Fortune? Not likely. He'd always been a rather humble guy, and he didn't think *NSYNC had changed him. But then, that's what Britney had said about MMC and "Hit Me Baby..." and look at her. Bitch.
Justin sighed and sat up, rubbing his temples. He always enjoyed his thinking process when it was happening, but after it was over, his brain hurt. That thought brought a smile to his cracked lips.
A smile. It had to be the first in a while. Isn't it amazing what genuine thought provoked? Justin thought so.
As he closed the door to the Jeep, Justin took one last look at his precious spot, before clamouring down the windswept road to face yet another day as Justin Timberlake.
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