Yellow

Published on Jan 19, 2023

Gay

Ok... Chapter 2! This was a long time coming, I will admit... I never intended for it to take so long. in fact, I hadn't realized that the last time I submitted was the beginning of December until a few days ago... so that kind of lit a fire under my butt to get this out. Excuses? Well, I kinda had a computer problem for a little while (Sprite vs. laptop is just NOT a good situation), I was really distracted over my winter break, and, finally, I didn't like the chapter 2 I had originally written, so I decided to go back and start from scratch. I'm still not enamored with this version, but it'll do.

Things to know: I still jump around a bit in terms of time, so be on the lookout for that... Evan's still an ass, but I like to think I'm beginning to show more sides of him.

Thank you's: Jeff (SLJ!), Matt, DLS, RCJ, Adam, Ryan, everyone who emailed me about the story, and, last but not least. Rebecca, who's not reading this here because she's too scared to go to a gay erotic story website, but I love her all the same.

Disclaimers are fun! If you're not 18, you aren't supposed to be reading this. When you do turn 18 however, I expect a full book report on the story... 1500 word minimum.

This is a work of complete fiction (and not a very good one at that). Don't go taking this story as fact. The closest I've ever been to a member of NSYNC is this: my best friend says that she was once quasi- stalked by a guy who kinda looked like Justin Timberlake. The point? The members of NSYNC might be gay, they might not... I have no way of knowing.

"I wonder when I wander home if I'll be fit to drink alone sleep with my memories pictures apologies"

-the Get Up Kids

and now, chapter 2 of... "yellow"...


He stood up quickly from his seat. "It means, Evan... it means that you were downright NASTY to that girl. And back in the hotel room, you freaked out on me BIG TIME! And every time I ask you why, or what's wrong, all you answer with is 'long story.' So you must have some real good reason to be a basketcase... that's all I'm saying. What? Are you a split personality? Schizophrenic? Have Tourette's? Because you must be COMPLETELY out of your mind, Evan. No one, NO ONE, deserves to be treated like that. So either you spill your so-called 'long story' to me as a way of explaining your actions, or I'm gone."

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. All the willingness to spill my guts to him had somehow faded away. "Well... then... goodbye Justin."

He stood there, seemingly stunned for a minute that I refused to tell him anything. He regained his wits soon enough though. "Bye Evan." And with that, he was gone.


I slowly boarded the plane, my stomach doing backflips in the back of my throat. I found my seat rather quickly (one of the advantages of flying first class), shoved my bag into an overhead compartment, and sat down. I quickly buckled my seat belt (even though the plane wasn't due to take off for another twenty minutes) and got into flying position: sitting bolt upright, hands clenched down on the armrests.

I guess I should explain a bit. I'm not the greatest of flyers. Actually, that's probably the understatement of the year. Flying scares me the hell out of me. It's a little weird really... you would think that as much as I've had to fly, I would have eventually gotten used to it. But no... not me. If anything, my fear of flying has gotten worse over the years.

When Broken first started hitting it big and we were forced to fly all over the place, I saw several therapists... who were of absolutely no help. Then I tried toughing it out myself... which lasted until about the third flight, when I nearly got thrown off a plane because I was freaking out the other passengers (who would have thought that screaming "We're gonna die!" while the plane was turning would have caused such a ruckus?)

I finally found a partial solution to my problem though: drugs. One of my psychiatrists finally caved in and prescribed anti-anxiety pills to me... they don't take all of the nervousness away, but they do enable me to at least walk on the plane and remain quiet for most of the ride. I do get kind of loopy while I'm on them (of course, downing about half a dozen pills before each flight probably has something to do with that), but it's a side effect that I can definitely live with.

My seatmate had yet to arrive, which was fine with me. It was usually hard for me, because I always wanted the window shade closed for the duration of the flight... but since I never sat next to the window, I didn't normally get to choose. I leaned over and slammed the shade shut. Maybe if it was closed when he or she arrived, it would stay that way... worth a shot at least.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat a little. My pills hadn't really started working yet. I could only pray that they would soon. I pulled my pocketwatch out and glanced at the time. Fifteen more minutes to go. The thought began to run through my mind that I might not make it off the plane alive. Shit. Shit. Shit. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. When that failed, I flagged a flight attendant down. "Excuse me... I have to take some medication. Can I get some water?"

She peered down at me. Flight attendants always made me uneasy. Anyone who flew for a living could not be mentally stable. "I'm sorry sir, but you'll have to wait until we're in flight."

I forced a smile. "Ok... thanks anyways." She nodded at me and continued her walk down the aisle. Bitch. I contemplated swallowing a pill dry... but eventually decided against it. If I did, then it would leave a really bad taste in my mouth... and if I was gonna die, I wanted to do it as comfortably as possible. I began to rummage through the magazines and leaflets in the pocket in front of me, carefully avoiding the safety information. I did NOT need that imagery. I mean... was that really supposed to make me feel better about getting on the plane? Like if I tucked my head between my legs I'd miraculously survive a crash? A friend of mine once told me that the only reason they tell you to do that is so you can kiss your ass goodbye.

"Excuse me." I glanced up at the person talking to me. FUCK. No. that didn't even begin to describe what I was feeling. I could not even begin to believe my luck. Or, more accurately, my lack of it. Evan's life = bad soap opera. I sighed, unbuckled my seatbelt and stood up, allowing him access to his seat. This was gonna be a LONG ASS flight to Cincinnati. He squeezed past me, settling into his seat. When he had gotten situated, he turned to me. "Hey... aren't you Evan Matthews?"

I kept my eyes directly on the chair in front of me. "Yep."

He placed his hand on my arm. I would have shaken it off, but the plane was starting to move, and my hand was needed wrapped around the armrest. "How's your head?"

I paused before answering. "It's... fine. Even if it wasn't, I wouldn't know it... but it's fine."

"Why wouldn't you know it?"

"Because I have enough drugs in me to kill a cow."

He laughed a little. "Not a fan of flying huh?"

I grimaced. Why did people always find my fear so damned funny? "To say the least."

He turned his head towards the window and, noticing that the shade was down, slid it back up, exposing the outside world. I could see buildings and other airplanes zoom by as the plane rolled down the runway. I took a deep breath and kept my eyes directly in front of me. "I never got a chance to apologize for running into you the other night. I'm sorry for cracking your head open." I could hear the smile in his voice.

I turned to face him, only to be greeted to the sight of the plane begin to rise off the ground. I gasped and turned my head back immediately. "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God."

"Evan... chill out man. It'll be ok."

I ignored him, deciding instead to devote all my mental facilities to keeping me breathing. Fuck it. I decided it was more important for me to be able to breathe than for me to die with pill breath. I reached into my pocket, grabbed the bottle, unscrewed the top, and dumped two pills into my free hand. Taking a deep breath, I threw them into my mouth, swallowing hard. I shuddered involuntarily before settling back into my seat, silently praying that the pills would take effect... and SOON.

"Feel better now?"

I nodded a little. "Yeah." He laughed a little. "What?"

"Nothing... it's just that I've never seen anyone so scared of flying before."

"Well, it is my goal to entertain you, JC."

"Ahh... so it comes out... you DO know my name!"

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Well... since I sat down next to you, you haven't said my name once... until now. I was beginning to wonder if you even knew who I was."

"Sorry."

"No worries... you seem to have enough on your mind as is... though I'm guessing your behavior is probably the reason why Aaron has vowed never to fly with you again." He laughed again.

Ok... now I was a little confused. "Aaron? Aaron who?"

"Ummm... your best friend? And bandmate?"

And now I was even more confused. Aaron knew JC? "You know Aaron?" I asked, turning to face JC (and carefully avoiding peering out the window).

He nodded. "Yeah... you didn't know that? I've known him for about a year now... I met him when he was down in Orlando producing some CD... I'm surprised he didn't mention anything to you... we've become pretty good friends."

I sighed. "I've been... busy this last year..." "I guess so."

"What does that mean?"

He shrugged. "I dunno... sorry if it sounded sarcastic. It wasn't a loaded comment or anything."

"Ok." We settled into an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before JC spoke up again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I guess... does it have anything to do with Broken?" He shook his head. "Then go ahead."

He paused for a second... it almost seemed to me like he was trying to find the best words to use... which scared me a little... I mean, if he had to try and sugarcoat something, I probably wasn't gonna like the question. "Ummm... what happened... with you and... Justin?" The words came out just above a whisper.

Bingo! Evan's right again! "Nothing happened JC," I said, sighing. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged again. "Because... well... because he told us you were an asshole."

I tapped my fingers against the armrest, a nervous habit of mine. "Well, he's right." A thought suddenly occurred to me. "Is he... on this plane?" JC burst out laughing, which only served to confuse me. "What's so funny?"

"Evan... turn your head to the right."

Shit. I slowly turned my head around, only to find Justin sitting in the seat directly across the aisle from me. He was engrossed in a book and trying, it seemed, very hard to ignore the fact that I was on the plane. I turned back to JC. "Why didn't you tell me he was sitting right over there?" I whispered.

"I thought you knew!"

"With the exception of when I'm looking at you, I think it's been pretty damn obvious that my eyes have been focused on the chair in front of me the whole freakin' time!"

He seemed to think that over. "Now that you mention it, you're right."

"Damn right I'm right!" I sighed. Of COURSE Justin was sitting across from me. Why wouldn't he be? Anything bad that could possibly happen was BOUND to happen to me. JC stood up suddenly. "Where... where are you going?"

"I thought I'd step outside and see what the weather's like. where do you THINK I'm going? To the bathroom!" He smiled. "Are you gonna miss me? Don't worry... I'll be back."

"Ha fucking ha. You're hilarious."

"I know I am. Now move! I gotta pee!"

I reluctantly unbuckled my seatbelt and stood up (making sure to keep one hand on an armrest) and allowed JC to pass by. When he was gone, I settled back into my seat. I looked back across the aisle. Justin was still reading. Should I talk to him? What would I say if I did? Would he want an apology? Because I sure as hell wasn't gonna give him one...

"Are you gonna say something, or are you just gonna stare at me for the rest of the trip?"

Whoops. Guess I was looking at him for just a wee bit too long. "Hi Justin."

"Evan." He still hadn't looked up from his book.

"What are you reading?"

"American Psycho."

"That's a good book... I really liked it."

"Whatever."

Ouch. That was a little harsh. "What's your problem?"

"What?"

"Why are you acting like such a prick?"

Well, if nothing else, THAT question caused Justin to lose interest in his book. He turned to face me. "Why am I a prick?!? If memory serves me correctly, Evan, YOU'RE the prick."

"What the HELL does that mean?"

"Weren't you the one who, two nights ago, treated a person like absolute DIRT? For absolutely NO reason whatsoever?"

Ok... he was now officially treading on dangerous ground. "Justin, shut the hell up. You don't have ANY idea what the hell you're talking about."

I saw anger begin to flash in his eyes. "No, I think I know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. You're a fake... a complete phony. You hide behind this nice guy persona... but then, when that girl came up to you, I got to see the REAL you. You're nothing but a mean, arrogant, insensitive PRICK, who has no use for anyone who's not YOU."

"Fuck you Justin... FUCK YOU."

"What the hell is wrong with you guys?" I turned to see JC standing in the aisle in front of us. "The entire plane can hear you two! Keep your voices down!"

Justin turned his attention to JC. "Not a problem... I have nothing else to say."


The rest of the plane ride was spent in a rather tense silence. I didn't mind it so much, really... it allowed me to concentrate on more important things, such as not dying. When the plane finally landed I just about jumped out of my seat, grabbed my bag from the overhead bin, and charged off the plane. I got about halfway up the walkway before I noticed that my legs weren't working as well as they should have been. I placed a hand on the wall to keep me from falling over. A wave of nausea suddenly hit me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall, waiting for it to pass. "Evan?"

I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter as I grimaced. "Yeah?"

"Are you ok? What's wrong?"

I shook my head slightly. "Nothing. Just not feeling so good at the moment."

"How many of those pills did you take?"

I took a deep breath and turned around slowly to see JC standing before me, a concerned expression across his face. Justin was standing to his side. It would not have been possible for him to look more disinterested. "Ummm... six... I think."

"SIX?!? Have you had anything to eat today?"

"No," I answered, shaking my head. "The pills work better on... on an empty stomach."

"Christ! I'm surprised you're still standing at all! When's your next flight?"

"About... an hour and a half."

JC put his hand on my shoulder. "C'mon... we're gonna go get you something to eat."

"I'm fine... really..."

"Bull! You're coming. End of story."


Our meal together passed rather uneventfully. Most of the time was spent completely silent, with the occasional attempt by JC to get a conversation started. Unfortunately for him, neither I nor Justin were very receptive to the idea. When I finished my burger, I glanced at my watch and saw that it was about time to begin heading to my gate. I stood up and grabbed my bag. "Well, thanks for keeping my company, but I need to head out."

JC offered his hand, which I accepted awkwardly. I've never been too big of a fan of the handshake. It just seemed to be an unnecessary gesture. "No problem. Have a good flight home."

I smiled a little. "Well, if it doesn't crash, it'll be good enough for my tastes."

He laughed. "I'm pretty sure that it won't."

"Let's all hope."

"See you around Evan."

"Yeah. Bye JC." I turned my attention to Justin. "Goodbye Justin."

He glanced up at me for a second, coldness still evident in his eyes. "Bye."

I sighed, but held my tongue. "Ok... see ya around." He just returned his gaze back to the table. Seeing no response forthcoming, I turned around and began the walk towards my gate. I was maybe fifty feet away from them when I started to feel bad. By the one hundred mark, I decided to turn around and head back. I guess that I need to explain some things.

Am I the nicest person in the world? No... I think we can all agree with that. But I wasn't... I haven't always been like this. A lot of stuff has happened to me that's caused me to act the way that I do. Is it right for me to hide behind that? Probably not. But I do, and that's just the way it is. I piss people off. It's something that I've learned to accept about myself. But Justin was... well, he was really good to me, really nice. If he was just some random guy who I met and I pissed off, I wouldn't have cared... but Justin actually did some really cool things for me. And it was just... different. Does this make any sense? Before I could sort things out in my head any more, I was back at their table. "Justin?"

Both he and JC looked up at me in surprise. I guess they weren't expecting to see me again... at least... not so soon. He didn't answer me right away and, to be honest, I wasn't sure if he was even going to. Seconds were clicking by in my head. How long was I supposed to wait for an answer? A minute? Five? I did, eventually, have a plane to catch... and although I wasn't too thrilled with the prospect of flying again anytime soon, I did need to get home. I was just about to turn and leave (again) when he finally spoke up. "Yeah?" Ok, so he wasn't exactly verbose.

"Look... I need to apologize to you."

He smirked, leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms. "Oh really?" The self-satisfied tone he spoke in pissed me off, but I tried to ignore it and move on.

"Yes. Really."

"Well, it's about time." What the hell was wrong with him? I came back to tell him that I was sorry and this is what I got? FUCK THAT. Red flashed in my eyes.

I leaned over towards him until our faces were just a few inches apart. It took all my strength to keep myself from ripping his head off. "Look, you little shit," I began through gritted teeth, "Fuck you. I came back here to apologize, not to be the recipient of your holier- than-thou attitude."

He leaned back in mock surprise. "What? You didn't like the way I acted? Did it piss you off? Make you feel hurt? Well guess what? You did the exact same thing to that girl. You HURT her. You pissed HER off."

I slammed my fist down on the table in frustration. "Oh, so we're back to this now? How many times do I have to tell you Justin? It's not a good idea for you to speak about things that you have no knowledge of. I didn't even come back here to talk about that."

That seemed to surprise him. "You didn't? Then why are you here?"

I sighed. "To apologize for what happened on the plane... for getting in that fight with you."

He shot me a questioning glance. "But not for the girl."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because? Real good reason there Evan." He furrowed his brow, as if he was trying to comprehend what was going on. "Why is it not ok to piss me off, but it IS ok to piss her off?"

"I never said it was OK to piss her off... it's... just... different."

"Different how?"

I reached for my bag and stood back upright. "As I told you the other night, it's a long story."

He sighed and leaned back. "You're an enigma wrapped in a riddle, Evan."

"So I've been told. We ok?"

"No."

"But my apology's been registered?"

"Yeah."

"Good enough. I'll see ya around." With that, I was gone.


My next flight passed rather uneventfully (thank GOD)... no pissed off pop stars or anything. I did, however, down a few more pills on the flight. When the plane finally landed, I rushed off it as fast as I could, only to find that I couldn't walk in a straight line. I was all over the place. Oh well... at least that side effect was better than the nausea.

When I reached the gate, I saw Aaron waiting for me, leaned up against the wall. He laughed when he saw me coming towards him. "Too many pills Evan?"

"To say the least." We hugged and began heading towards an exit.

"So how was the trip?"

"Crappy."

"Why? What happened?"

It was a completely innocent question, but I didn't particularly feel like getting into all of the sordid details at the moment. "I don't wanna talk about it." I should've known better. Aaron never let me get away with stuff like that.

"Oh, no you don't. Spill. Now." I sighed and began the story.


"He's right, you know."

"About what?"

"Everything. That girl didn't deserve what you said to her."

"Probably not." We had been sitting in Aaron's car in my driveway for the last ten minutes, allowing me a chance to finish my story. But now that it was complete, I wanted out. I reached for the door handle and pulled it.

"Do you wanna do something tomorrow?"

I shook my head as I reached into the backseat for my bag. "I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

"Sitting around the house, mostly."

Aaron sighed. "Evan..."

I climbed out of the car. "Don't, Aaron."

He ignored me and went on. "Evan... please... stop pushing me away."

"I'll consider it. Thanks for the ride."

"No problem," he said quietly. "Bye Evan."

"Bye." I slammed the car door shut and walked towards the house.


"Here's your pizza."

"Thanks a lot."

"Say... aren't you..." I closed the door before he could finish his statement, locked it, and walked back through the living room. It felt. good to be home. At least here, I'm on my own terms... can control my life a little bit more. No weird interruptions or anything.

And I can be left alone.

I flipped on the television, searching for something, anything to fill the time until I could go to bed. I looked at the clock. 10:30. Too early. Not finding anything on t.v., I shut it off, listening instead to the silence that surrounded me. I ate some pizza. Smoked a cigarette. The phone rang. I ignored it.

Instead, I opted to take a shower. It felt good to be under a hot stream of water, so I just stood there, letting the water run over my body. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the tiled wall. I don't know how long I stood there. but it was the most comfortable that I had felt since I had left for New York.

A good while later, I excavated myself from the shower, dried off, and wandered back into my empty house.

"Now what?"


I took my time placing my order, knowing that as soon as the waiter left, Aaron would start in on me. And, sure enough,the second the server was out of earshot... it began. "Evan... we're worried about you, ok?"

I sighed and collapsed further into my chair. "Look... I appreciate that, all right? But I don't understand why!"

Aaron lowered his voice a little and leaned across the table. "It's... like this. Ever since... well... you know... you've been... you've been SO withdrawn and SO closed off... and... and... and it's like your personality has done a complete 180! You used to be outgoing and friendly and personable... and... well... NICE! And now... you're just not! You spend all your time in this house... you never go out... you never do... ANYTHING anymore! When you interact with other people... you're downright nasty. Look... I know that you've had a really tough time lately... but... you need to do SOMETHING to deal with it! You can't spend the rest of your life shutting people out!"

"Why haven't you said anything about this before?"

"Because... because it's never been this bad before! In the month since you got back from New York... I mean... God! I haven't talked to you once! You don't even answer the phone anymore! You can't be like this anymore!"

"DON'T TELL ME HOW I SHOULD BE!" I shouted. "IT DIDN'T HAPPEN TO YOU. IT HAPPENED TO ME! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!!!" I noticed out of the corner of my eye that what seemed like the entire restaurant was staring at me, but I honestly couldn't care less.

"No Evan, I don't," he sighed. "And you wanna know why? Because YOU WON'T TELL ME WHAT IT'S LIKE! How am I supposed to know?!? For God's sake... TALK TO ME!"

"I can't talk to you," I whispered.

"Why not?"

"I just... I just can't."

"Then please... talk to someone. Talk to SOMEONE. Before it's too late."


Too late... too late. Aaron's last words to me echoed through my head. What did he mean, 'too late?' Did he think I was gonna try and kill myself? Because I'm wouldn't do that... it would scare me too much to even try it. I would hope he would know that.

So what else could he have meant? Before I lost all my friends? Before I became a miserable, lonely person? Too late indeed... on both accounts.


So that's chapter 2... the end was kinda a downer, huh? Oh well... c'est la vie. When will chapter 3 be out? No clue... I'll try to have it out soon though... do you wanna email me about the story? wrongfulsuspicion@hotmail.com... no guarantees on a reply, but I HAVE emailed some people back... so who knows? You may get lucky and hear from me. Until next time, my friends... don't let the man get you down!

Next: Chapter 4


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