Justin’s sleeping… fucking… sucking… doing whatever to Joey upstairs while Lance is passed out in the living room after having a field day on Britney. She in the corner of the kitchen. She ended up crying herself to sleep. I’m sitting at the kitchen table. Motionless.Needles are scattered over the table with bottles of morphine and opium. Some empty, some full, some… I have no clue what’s in them. Sugar cubes sit in a little baggie waiting for Joey to take them with him when he goes out clubbing. I could steal one but I’m sure he’ll actually count them and make sure he has nine. Always nine.
Great… I can hear the bed slamming into the wall. I start mixing and playing with the bottles, getting lost in the chemistry of everything. I hate science but it’s pretty damn cool to see what happens. Drops of ecstasy, morphine, opium… all in one needle. Why do I suddenly feel like getting high?
Britney wakes up and crawls towards the table. Under it actually. She places her head in my lap.
I can feel her tears.
And I still hate Justin.
I look up from the bottles. Droplets of blood from where Britney was curled up created a trail towards me. Britney’s head lies atop my bare feet as her hand rests on my knee. I reach down and touch her hand. It falls off. (I really pushed it off).
I get up from the table, grabbing the mystery needle with me and walk up the stairs. Justin is screaming… something. Joey yells back, throwing things. The door swings open and Joey comes storming out, zipping up his pants. He walks past me, not even giving me a second look, and into the kitchen. I hear him grab the bag, yell at Lance and then they’re gone.
At the doorway of Justin’s room. He’s sitting on the bed and looks up when he takes notice of me. “I don’t hate you Chris.”
I nod my head. “I know.”
“There’s just some things going on that… I can’t stand this group anymore. I don’t even think I can stand Britney.”
I move into the room. Something I have never done before. His room feels… warm, nice, comfortable. “What’s going on?”
Justin gets off the bed and pulls on a pair of pants. “I’m dumping Britney.”
I don’t know if I want cry or walk out. “Joey?”
“Against it. He says if I leave her, then the group is doomed to fall apart.”
I look around the room. Old pictures of us sit in dark corners, collecting dust. He’s never forgotten us… never will. “You’re doing this for JC.”
“No. I’m not.” He’s not lying. He’s finally fallen out of love. Good.
“Britney know?” I picture her lying under the table, bleeding, crying.
“No.”
“She’ll hate you.”
“So be it.” Justin pulls a shirt over his head and sits in the middle of the bed. I can’t stand him anymore. He disgusts me. I turn and walk out of the room, but not before Justin calls out after me. “She alright?”
I face him. Outside the doorway. I stare at the needle in my hand and quickly inject it into my wrist. I hope this doesn’t kill me. I look up at Justin, “I hate you.”
There. I’ve said it. “I hate you. I hate everything about you. I hate the fact you lie to me. I hate the way you walk around thinking you’re the best. I hate your girlfriend. I hate your love for us. I hate you, Justin. I just hate you.”
Justin stared at me, watching me cry, scream and rant at him. I wanted to slap him over and over until he understood how much I hated him. He smiled softly and nodded his head. “I know. Thank you.”
No. Thank you. I love you. I hate to love you.
Justin.