CONTINUATION OF 'ALL THE LITTLE THINGS'. PLEASE READ 'ALL THE LITTLE THINGS' TO UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT OF THIS STORY. THANK YOU.

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Oh yeah.

It feels so good.

The feeling of the cool material against your skin. It feels dangerous, beautiful, wonderful, painful and all the pleasure it brings is even more sinful.

Perhaps I should have let myself drone away, on and on about my sanity.

My stupid, fucking sanity.

Or insanity, for that matter.

Whatever.

I should have let it absorb me. All the pain, stupidity, and ainguish should have been drained away that night with that single stroke of my hand and that beautiful, beautiful metal knife against my skin. I had it all right in front of me.

The perfect oppurtunity, if you will. It was great.

Justin timberlake was FINALLY going to be normal again.

It didn't matter if I was dead or alive, breathing or not breathing. All I craved for was my sanity. That's all I ever needed. All I ever desired.

But still, with every desire comes packed with its own obstacle.

For me, my obstacle was…

Oh yes. I remember now. For a moment there I thought it had slipped my mind, but never could I forget. Never would I forget who or what it was that made me stay in this cruel, undeserving, cold, mindless world.

Their worthless names were Chris, lance, joey, and jc.

They thought they had lost the 'real justin', 'the justin they grew up knowing; the justin they trusted. Their brother'. I had to laugh at that. In my mind all I could see was that beautiful solace, that beautiful window of oppurtunity that was closing and I just kept thinking, thinking, and thinking about all the things I was and all the things I would never be. I would never be the 'same old justin' again because there was no more hope and there was no justin anymore. His soul had flown away long ago along with all his wishes and hopes. THERE WAS NO MORE HOPE BECAUSE IT ALL CAME CRASHING DOWN LIKE A WAVE OF SOULESS DESIRE. I had lost everything. Every damned thing that was ever valuable to me or worth anything at all in my eyes.

Well, in the very last minute, they had all decided to come crashing in like a fucking movie scene where every damned frame, angle, and movement was timed perfectly. It was almost as if they could see through the door. See me standing against the wall facing a mirror, seeing a reflection I didn't recognize anymore. It seemed as if they had known that this beautiful greedy smile was upon my face and that this knife was pointed to my ugly, meaningless heart. It even dawned on me that them walking through the door had made that knife fly as far away from my heart as possible. Damn them for their pretty boy NSYNC psychokinesis abilities. Damn them for being so fucking sauve and shit. Or whatever. I guess the media has eaten my heart up also because thoughts of all that glitz and glamour in nsync began taking over my brain at that exact moment.

I just smiled and waved a little, hiding the knife under a small washcloth nearby. I was quick like a jaguar, ready to hide my tracks. They didn't notice a damned thing because of my agility and the swiftness of my fingers. They were moving as fast as their eyes blinked when they realized how incredibly bright it was in the small, compact bathroom. They just smiled back giving me a questioningly look and Lance had almost opened his mouth when I barely moved my lips apart and mumbled something about 'finding my peace before show time'. They bought it of course and just shrugged in response. All four of them left at once yelling something about testing out a new playstation 2 game that Joey had just gotten a discount on after flirting with the storeclerk. I shook my head and almost screamed in frustration when the door slammed behind them. I grabbed the knife and wiped the blood on my arm off where I had stabbed myself a few times just for a quick test of how sharp this stupid little butter knife was. The moment was over, the capture of time was gone, the knife was no longer beautiful, and I was still Justin Timberlake, international superstar.

A few days later I was walking down the streets baring nothing but a pair of normal jeans and a black shirt I had found at the bottom of my suitcase. I no longer felt it was needed to walk around with big, aviator singlasses on and a trailor trash hat to attract even more attention to me. So I just casually strolled down the street, no security and thankfully, I managed to talk all the guys out of trying to take a walk at me. I think if I listened to lance talk about what he was wearing to the grammy's and how hot he looked in doc marten boots I would literally kill myself and his own popstar ass too.

I spotted a small café and walked in not caring where I sat, what I ordered, and if the waitress was checking me out. She walked over and I ordered some random thing on the menu, shoving the it back to her and flashing her this smile I had nailed down to the last bone.

And that was when I heard it.

That same hum, that same melody, that same tune I had carried with me for years but couldn't quite put a finger on what or who it belonged to. Now I knew. I KNEW. Memories flashed into my mind and flooded my heart. i picked up the tune and soon began humming softly, making sure no one heard me. I turned my head around sharply to find out just who it was that bared that same, soft, off key yet beautiful nonetheless voice that had invaded my mind all these years. That was when I saw it.

My solace.

My true happiness as a young boy was held in a jeans and t-shirt clad girl. Someone I hadn't seen for exactly 8 years. Eight whole years. She had been there when I needed someone, something, anything. Where had she gone? More importantly, where had I gone? I had hopped onto that plane of dreams and never came back. And now, being the broken man I was, I could only stare at her. I could only sit and gawk at my childhood friend, my childhood love. Juliet. It was almost too perfect, no? Romeo and Juliet. Only, I was as far as I could get from being a romeo. So I suppose my dreams of loving her forever was crushed when I recorded my first album, when I first stepped up that microphone, and when I had first bound my soul to a record contract that could never be broken. I had lost her when I had become justin timberlake. I had forgotten her for awhile but now the memories were flooding back to every moment in my life that ever existed. It ranged from softball games, concerts, sandbox adventures, and finally, my everpresent trips to the bathroom for a quick indulgence in pain with a thin, useless butterknife. I touched my scars and smirked. I eyed the butterknife sitting on top of the cheap, cloth napkin in front of me. But like some godsent sign, I let my eyes drift back to her. She was just sitting there, sipping coffee, drowning in her own thoughts. Not knowing what to do, I dropped my head down, forcing myself to look at the unpolished butterknife staring back at me allowing evil and pleasurable thoughts to enter my mind. That same ugly, greedy smile was just about ready to reach my lips when I stopped to regain composure and just leave. Leave behind my untouched coffee and leave behind the memories and sight of this girl; this girl that had worked her way into my heart long ago when it was still so pure and painstakingly beautiful. As I stood up to go, I caught a glimpse of her one last time and my breath was caught in my throat when I realized she was staring back at me.

I began eying the door and contemplating a way out.

I couldn't handle the intensity of her eyes.

It…it was terrifying. Her eyes had held the one thing that I feared for so long.

Truth.

I said nothing and moved not an inch and she stared at me knowingly. So knowing that it was almost as if all those years were never lost and she was feeding into my soul and my desire. I had nothin to say so I kept my mouth shut yet my mind was crawling and itching for some strength and middleground.

But of course, there was none.