Scars From the Past
Author's Note- A little angst piece for ya; a generic plot with hurt and comfort.
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"Can it get any hotter?" Lance asked. He flopped down on the couch, sweating. The temperature was 110 degrees Fahrenheit, and it was thoroughly cooking the five young men.
"It's too hot for basketball," Justin said miserably, looking longingly at the basketball court outside. It was June in Texas, and the worst possible time for the air conditioning in the bus to blow.
The heat made them all irritable and tired. Steam rose from the blacktop outside, and the guys were betting that if you were suicidal enough to go outside, you could fry an egg.
"I think I'll shave my head," Joey said, pondering the thought only for a second.
"Sure you will," Chris sighed, taking off his T-shirt. "Right after I do." Chris laid down on the floor, stretched out and trying to get cool in the shade of the couch.
"The guy will be here in an hour," J.C. announced, hanging up the phone. The air conditioning people were swamped this time of year, and J.C. figured they probably made as much money as Nsync did.
"Thank God," Justin sighed. He fanned himself with a magazine. He sat on the other side of Chris, stripped to his plaid boxers. He was finding that heat really did rise, and it was actually cooler on the floor.
Joey and Lance sat on the couch, trying to get their mind off the heat by watching TV. J.C. remained in the kitchen, close to the refrigerator. All the guys had taken their shoes off and tossed them in a pile on the floor. Busta was panting like crazy, and soon he retreated to lie on the tile floor of the bathroom. Soon Justin and Lance were the only ones awake.
Lance started nodding off as he cannel surfed. Then a familiar, 'Respect my authority!' sounded, and Lance woke up. "Hey Chris, it's your favorite South Park," he said, looking over the edge of the couch.
Chris remained asleep, stretched out on the floor with his back towards Lance. Lance rubbed his eyes sleepily and started to call again when he noticed something.
When Lance leaned forward, Justin asked, "What?"
Lance squinted and whispered, "Oh my God. Are those scars?"
Justin got closer to Chris and looked where Lance was staring. Scattered over Chris's hot back were thin, two inch long scars. He reached out and ran a finger over an elevated scar that interrupted Chris's otherwise smooth skin.
Chris woke with a start, rolling over and hiding his back in the carpet. He drew in a deep breath, remembering where he was. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Looking at your back," Justin replied truthfully.
"Well don't," Chris said, not moving.
"What happened?" Lance asked, concerned.
"Nothing," Chris said quietly, blushing slightly.
"Well nothing happened to me too, but my back doesn't look like that," Justin said.
"Look, I don't want to talk about it, okay?" Chris said, his voice raising. "Don't touch me there again."
Chris rolled back on his side and closed his eyes, trusting his friends not to disturb him. Lance and Justin looked at each other questioningly, then turned their attention back to the droning TV.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chris cowered on his bed, his young body trembling with fear.
"You stupid boy, can't you do anything right?"
He saw the angry face of his father coming at him, belt drawn. Chris tried to curl into a protective ball, but a hard fist stopped the effort. Nearly unconscious, Chris barley realized the shirt being torn off him. He prayed for a miracle, but none came. He had only wanted to spend time with the man that was soon to be his real father, since his mom was about to divorce him. So he followed him to work, but nearly got hit by a car as he crossed the street on his bike.
A single tear fell from his eye as he felt the first blow, and the metal of the belt buckle biting his skin. Luckily, he was only conscious for the next two stinging blows, then he passed out from the excruciating pain.
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The guys enjoyed a cool night's sleep, thanks to the air conditioning man from heaven. They stayed inside, enjoying the coolness that they had temporarily lost. After cold showers and an evening of TV, they turned in late. All was silent except for the moans and quiet pleas of the sleeping Chris.
His sounds alone were not enough to disturb the others, but when Chris accidentally knocked Busta off his bunk, the rattling of the Pug's tags pulled Justin from his peaceful sleep. Justin lay awake and listened to the effects that the haunting nightmare had on his friend. Justin couldn't determine what cruel memory the nightmare was playing in Chris's head, and Chris's words were muffled as he buried his face in his pillow. After a few more cries, the nightmare ended, and Justin tried unsuccessfully to get back to sleep.
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"Man, I slept like a rock last night! I will never again take air conditioning for granted," J.C. exclaimed, stretching.
"Me too," Chris said, catching Justin's disbelieving gaze. Chris quickly turned his gaze to the floor, the memories flooding back.
"Man, this concert tonight is not gonna be fun," Joey sighed.
"Hopefully it cools off tonight," Lance said.
The others headed to the kitchen, grieving about the unbearable heat. Justin kept his eyes on Chris, and when Chris finally looked at him, he asked, "Anything you want to talk about?"
"I told you to shut up about it," Chris whispered, almost in tears despite his harsh words.
"I'm not gonna let whatever this is eat you alive," Justin replied, nothing but concern in his voice.
"Look, just not right now, okay?" Then, in a whisper, Chris added, "Please?"
Justin read the hurt in his friend's voice loud and clear. "Okay."
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The audience had packed into the arena, increasing the temperature even more. All the girls had skimpy tank tops and short shorts, and most carried bottled water.
"Man, I could get used to this," Joey smiled as he peered out into the crowd.
"I only intend to put up with it until this concert is over," J.C. mumbled.
Then came their cue, and the five guys ran onstage. They took the positions in the dark, waiting for the lights to come on. Chris looked out in the audience, smiling to himself at all the posters and girls with painted faces.
Then his eyes landed on someone that took his breath away like a hard punch to the stomach. He remained frozen with fear as the lights came on and the guys began to dance. The world dropped away and the only thing Chris was aware of was the oblivious face of his biological father, and the fierce pounding of his heart.
The man looked less than thrilled to be there, and Chris figured he probably didn't even know who Nsync was. Beside him stood a girl, only about seven or eight years old. 'The man obviously doesn't recognize me,' Chris told himself. 'So why can't I move?'
He was going into a full-blown panic attack and hardly realized it. His heart was hammering in his chest so hard it hurt, and he had to force himself to breathe. He could only stand there, frozen, and drawing attention to himself.
He was stuck in a whirlwind of crippling memories; the kids at school calling him names, the sympathetic looks from his mother, cruel, imitating smiles from the man in the audience, scary nights, touching, embarrassment…
He broke down at Lance's concerned touch, panic taking over. All the color drained from his face, and he decided he'd better go backstage before he collapsed right here. His mouth went dry as the tears formed in his eyes. He quickly headed backstage, the others following.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Wait! Wait!" Justin yelled, taking off his microphone.
The other three stopped their pursuit of Chris and turned to Justin. "What?" J.C. asked after they all removed their microphones.
"We can't corner him like this. He only needs one of us now," Justin explained, panting.
"Fine. Who?" J.C. replied.
"He was about to tell me earlier, and I heard him having a nightmare last night, so I want this. I can talk to him."
"Fine. Go," J.C. sighed. "We'll keep them busy," he said, motioning toward the crowd.
Justin gave a weak smile, not sure if he was up to battling Chris's demons with him.
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Justin found Chris huddled in a corner in the dark. He sat down beside Chris in the damp grass. They were behind the stage about 30 feet, almost out of reach of the lights.
Chris sat with his knees drawn up and head down, his face buried in his crossed arms. With out looking up, he said, "I'm sorry. Just give me a minute."
"I intend to," Justin said softly. "What's going on?"
"I don't-"
"You told me you'd tell me, so now you're gonna. When it's something this big, you can't keep it inside."
Chris thought for a moment, then slowly raised his head and looked at Justin. "It happened a long time ago, when I was seven or eight." His voice cracked and he took a deep breath, looking away from Justin. "My step-dad had died a couple months ago, and mom let my real dad back in the house because she was so upset and was willing to give him a second chance. He wanted to marry her again, put she wasn't so sure he'd changed."
Chris lowered his voice, but it increased in anger and hurt. "I guess he only wanted some action, and even though he was living with us, mom wasn't giving him any." Justin could tell where this was going, and he didn't like it at all. He also looked at the ground as Chris softly continued, "So he took it out on me. He'd come in my room and…"
"It's okay," Justin said, placing a hand on Chris's trembling shoulder.
"No, it's not okay," Chris exclaimed hysterically. Everything was coming out now, and it couldn't be stopped. Through tears, he continued, "You never had to suck another guy's dick, and then when you become so sick you puke, have him beat you unconscious!"
Chris immediately looked away, and they both sat in silence. Justin was stunned. He couldn't believe that this happened to Chris. And Chris had to live with it, alone. How could someone do that to a kid? And where was his mother during all this? Justin felt himself burning with rage.
He looked as Chris, who remained silent and looking at the ground. Justin was amazed Chris had opened up something like this with him. Suddenly everything clicked, from the scar above his eye, to Chris's studying psychology. He didn't really get the scar from running into a wall; it's from his father.
"I'm sorry," Chris said softly. "You didn't need to know that. Now you probably think I'm gay or something."
Justin laughed at the thought. "God Chris, it's not your fault! You were molested by an older man, that doesn't make you gay. You didn't do anything wrong! He should be put in jail!"
Chris looked at Justin with eyes that sparkled with unshed tears. "Then how come I feel…dirty? I still have flashbacks every time I have sex."
"You were violated! It makes me sick just to think about it! I worship you for being so strong. Of course you're going to have flashbacks, it's a major trauma. How anyone can do something like that to their own kid is beyond me."
"I hardly knew what sex was," Chris said, sounding distant.
"What brought this on?" Justin asked, confused.
"He's here."
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"What?"
"He's here and he's got a new daughter."
"Well we're gonna get him," Justin said, standing.
"No, Justin, I don't want to…"
"I'll be damned if I let someone get away with what he did to you," Justin said in a low voice.
Chris didn't say anything as he got up, brushing grass off his pants. Then, "Let's go."
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"Okay guys, one more round of Bingo! He we go-"
The audience screamed, announcing the arrival of Justin and Chris. Plus they were sick of Bingo. With Justin and Chris, a bodyguard and security came on stage with them.
"Amongst you girls tonight," Justin began, "Is a child molester." The audience froze, along with J.C., Lance and Joey. The security started out in the audience as Justin continued, "This is a sick man, and tonight he's going to jail. If any of you have been molested, please step forward. It is not your fault, and it's a crime. We will work towards eliminating these disgusting people from your homes, but you must step forward and take a stand."
The audience stood uncertainty as the security arrested the man Chris pointed out. Then, bravely, Chris stepped forward.
After a moment of silence, one by one girls stepped forward, easing Chris's pain. A miracle took place that night, and as the man was hauled away, everyone in the audience booed him.
A smile spread over Chris's face, and he felt better than he ever had.
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NOT THE END!
After the concert, the guys let all the battered girls backstage for a special meet and greet. A lot of tears were shed, and all the girls were grateful to Nsync and Chris. Justin had explained what happened to the others while Chris talked with the girls and they mingled with themselves.
They all gained some strength from the 'meeting', and the girls didn't leave until an hour later. One girl remained behind, and she approached Chris with a look of hate. But as she drew closer, the anger melted away, leaving her in tears. She reached out and hugged him, explaining, "Tonight, when you took that man away…" she sniffed, then continued, "that was my father."
Chris flinched slightly, feeling an array of emotions. Anger, hurt, apology. They were all there.
But they malted away when she added, "Thank you."
Chris hugged her harder, feeling the bond they shared. "He was father," Chris said.
"I wish he wasn't my father. But I had to stay with him because my mother died."
She pulled away, and Chris looked at her. Their eyes relayed a whole conversation, thoughts flying from one head to the other. It was really sort of magical, and later they would be amazed.
Chris's eyes asked sympathetically, 'Then who will you stay with now?'
She looked away for a moment, gathering the thought, 'Nobody,' then tossed it back to him with her eyes.
Feeling responsible, Chris looked at the others, then his eyes welcomed, 'Stay with us.'
"Thank you," she whispered, hugging him again.
"Don’t worry," Chris whispered. "It gets better."
"By the way," she smiled, "My name's Andie."
"Hi Andie," Chris replied. "I'm Chris. Welcome to Nsync."
~~~~~
Finnis!
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