Chapter 1: Two Strikes In Your Mind

Do you ever get that feeling where its not you? Almost like things are just fucking up on their own without warning. I used to blame me, now I know that excuse stops working. I prefer knowing the truth than anything else. I believe knowing the whole truth speaks major volumes.
 
I have these dreams, or fantasies rather, of living in total peace. Not death or suicide. But like I said, it’s mostly fantasy, no harsh images or distorted interruptions. Life can be lived without the hassle of forcing it through each day. But sometimes it gets harder if you let it control you. Like the people… They know who they are. And really, when you think about it, nothing will change when it comes to personalities. It’s in their nature sadly. Ok, you’re probably scratching your head so far, but this is just the start. I have a lot of the stretching to do when it comes to explaining my side of the story.
 
Amelia Sabera is a no-nonsense kind of girl.
 
For years I’ve never felt envious of anybody until recently. JC Chasez has just about everything. But he has this habit of throwing it away like it’s meaningless. I mean come on, looks, money, a nice house, career (up for debate), and a happy and full life. I mean how do you fuck that up? Because he’s selfish, lonely, and probably gay; I hear he’s an asshole to the fans he has left. He should be lucky enough to have people who like him or even talk about him. Despite how boring he is, it bothers me a lot that he thinks he could do anything and get away with so much. What a self-centered prick.
 
But I’m guessing most guys in the city are like that. Usually the decent looking ones are walking around like the cheese fell off their cracker a while ago. I only wish things were somewhat different maybe. People tend to take things for granted. I hardly think he worked for all that he has. He’s like Paris Hilton, minus that sleazy sex tape, least that I know of. Who knows how many skanks he’s got lined up at his home.
 
But how do you do that exactly? With a minor morsel of talent (ok I’m being a little nice here), fame, money, and overall notoriety, how do you just toss that away like it’s the most trivial thing ever? That’s what I mean by getting away with things. Was it easy for him? What exactly was he thinking? Ever since he was in that faggot group things have taken a turn for the worst. Man, he’s so gay I can’t believe Lance was the one who came out (again, up for discussion). But JC or Josh or whatever Prince name he calls himself to seem less white and lame can’t seem to get over his shit. He’s like the picture perfect asshole for our generation. At least in my eyes…
 
And don’t ask me if I think he’s even slightly good-looking. Just ask him. I usually just skate right passed that and go to the major issue at hand. His personality; people think its Justin Timberlake down with the cocky (well, yeah I guess that seems right), but people forget about what’s going on behind the scenes. They don’t really know what’s going on. JC’s a loser and he knows it. That’s why he behaves the way he does.
 
He can’t get away with this shit for much longer. I can’t let it happen. Now if I just stop staring in his direction and finally tell him this everything would be OK.
There he is. Fucking ingrate, thinking he’s better than the next asshole that passes by. My blood just boils at the sight. I’m just afraid though… I know, ok, I have to just do it. Just do it and get it over with.
 
Look at that fucker. Right, like that girls real to him. Look at how he’s barely holding her hand while he’s reading the paper with pure interest. Maybe he is gay. I guess this shouldn’t be a problem then. I can deal with the gays, they’re just as annoying as women. He looks so calm, I think this is the perfect time to dump this iced vanilla latte all over him. Its full and pretty cold. Bet it would wake his ass up.
 
Ew, now the skank’s trying to whisper something in his ear. Ok, this is sadder than the The Hills. Fucking gross, her legs look like my arm and oh my God, is she going commando? What the fuck?
 
Ok, this is just wrong. Someone needs to fuck this guy up and it better be me.
 
"Hey, is anyone using this chair?" A southern voice boomed me out of my plan.
 
I shook and turned to the voice. Gentle blue eyes appeared as well as soft, crowning features. He looked older than me, not a lot but his age was showing through the lines on his forehead. His blonde curly hair was tucked under a Kentucky State University beanie hat. Too casual to be a local. The accent gives it away.
 
I licked my lips, suddenly I was gripped my iced latte so hard it was practically a third hand. I blushed, “Oh, yes, I mean no go ahead, I wasn’t using it.”
 
The corners of his mouth lifted up as he flashed me a bright smile. “Thank you.”
 
I nodded, feeling calmer, strangely. “No problem…”
 
I never know how to speak when it’s awkward. Was I supposed to say more or what? He just wanted a chair but wasn’t I trying to do something else here? I suddenly forgot.
 
He took the chair and turned around from me. I guess that was it. Ok, now I completely forgot what I was gonna do. But now I’m back to the chair guy.
 
I was about to ask him something when I noticed a blonde woman walk hurriedly in the café with a little boy with curly blonde hair and a flat-looking nose. The woman sat in the open chair I had just offered and picked up the toddler, placing him on her lap. And then it dawned on me.
 
Married? He barely said a couple words to me and suddenly I’m growing jealous of the pretty blond who’s obviously preoccupied with the chair guy. The fact that I’m agonizing over this just proves I need to go back to Dr. Holtz.

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