Lost

8

Beatrice Prior, July 12th, 2005
You see, the thing about Tobias is that he's a fast walker.
Even when he's tired. So, as we progress through the warm hot weather, I tie my sweatshirt around my waist.
"Let's take a break" I suggest.
He shrugs and nods, sitting on a rock, as I slide next to him.
I look down at my own clasped hands.
Then I look up. There's a park. A little park, it looks similar to the ones I used to play on when I was little.
I chew on my bottom lip. No families are on it at all.
It's so lonely.
It just makes me remember my family and I. We used to play on the abandoned play sets- no matter what.
I push it out of my mind when Tobias states, "We have to keep moving"
I turn away from the play set as we keep walking. Walking on an infinite line, or so it seems.
We seem to be getting closer to some Urban parts of New York.
But not New York City; no, not even close.
But there are fairly tall buildings, and streetlights suspended around the city.
All that could help me now is some music that could set the mood.
But, of course there's none- because I don't have my iPod.
And I probably won't get it replaced, because I snuck out.
Which equals big trouble.
All of a sudden, Tobias stops.
"What?" I ask, and I turn and look.
My mouth drops open.
Justin Timberlake, my number one idol and singer, is standing across the street. Leaning against a pillar that suspends a building.
I'm getting dizzy and lightheaded.
He's making a call on his blackberry phone.
I just can't believe it- he's here. He's here in the middle of an unknown Urban city talking on his cell.
What do I do? Do I say something? What if I mess up?
After all, this is Justin Timberlake we're talking about.
"Tris, we need to go"
"I have to-"
"He'll be wondering what these kids are doing in the middle of no where, alone. We can't risk it"
I stare longingly at Justin, who I will never see again.
I tank my wrist from his grasp, and storm away. I obey his orders. I don't make contact. Justin doesn't even see me.
He will never see me.
And I'm not happy at all to say that.
Tobias Eaton, July 12, 2005
It shattered my heart into a million pieces when she stormed away.
Justin Timberlake was her idol.
The reason I don't feel empathetic, is because I've never had an idol.
For me, the only person I ever looked up to, was anyone but Marcus.
A kind, gentile person. A person like Tris.
To have her mad at me was just another belt to the back.
I crossed my arms, unraveled them, and ran towards her.
"Tris, wait" I call out.
She doesn't.
I catch up to her ten minutes later, when we make a fire and roast our hotdogs.
She didn't say a word to me.
_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_
There was a voice inside my head, calling out to me in my sleep.
That's only when I realized, it wasn't a dream, it was real life. I squint up; the moon is shining brightly.
"Boy." he calls. I peel my eyes open.
"Yea?" I ask. Tris sleeps away from me, her chest rising and falling; we slept on some grass, and placed the sheets over it to sleep.
"You need a place to stay?" He asks.
"I have no money" I say, "I'm sorry"
"I was wondering if you wanted to stay for free" he says.
These are the people I look up to. Kind, generous, loving people.
I answer, "Yes"
He hold out his hand, and I take it.
I pull the sheets, and Tris grunts.
"What?"
"Someone's giving us a place to sleep"
She groans, "A minute"
"Sorry sir, I didn't catch your name"
"Some people call me JT. I go by Justin. Justin Timberlake"
With that, Tris shoots up immediately. Even through the dark I can see the color on her cheeks.
"Hi" she squeaks. I smile at her. Is she still mad at me, now?
"Hello there" Justin smiles"You must be a fan"
"Yes. I love your music" she tells him. I pick up our sheets and water, and she carries food.
We begin to walk, as she talks, "Cry me A River is my favorite" she says.
Justin smiles, and she smiles back.
I feel some sort of anger in my chest. Shouldn't I be feeling happiness, or excitement that a famous person is taking us in?
But all I feel is jealousy.
Why doesn't she smile at me?
Or am I just to blind to notice and may be she does?
"This is it. Well, I'm just renting it, but I'm sure I could fit ten people if it pleased me"
He unlocks the door with a twist of his key.
His apartment has a lounging area, bathroom, and four bedrooms, each with a king-sized bed.
Cool.
There's a piano in the lounging area, where I guess he writes his songs.
"Wow" Tris breathes.
He smiles, and says" Go ahead pick a room, except for the one by the piano. That's mine"
He gives us some food, and begins to play the piano.
Tris doesn't recognize the song, or so I think though, by the look on her face.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Trying to come up with a tune for my new song" he says.
Tris says something I didn't think she'd say, "I play the piano. I wrote a song. Without lyrics. Perhaps you could get some inspiration from that?"
I beam at her. She can write songs?
Well, she does like lyric poetry.
He smiles and nods, and he leaves and let's her go.
That's when she begins to play.
The most beautiful song, I've ever heard on the piano is being played: by her fingertips.
The whole song is played, before he applauds.
His eyes are full of wonder, like mine.
His eyes are full of passion, inspiration.
His eyes light up like fire in the dark.
_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_
"I take it you're not mad?"
"Of course I'm not mad. We're over here with Justin Timberlake" she says with excitement.
She sits on the king sized bed next to me. I claimed this as my room, and she came to thank me.
"Thank you so much" she says, "I just....don't know what would've happened if we didn't meet"
She reaches for my cheeks, and kisses one of them. I can feel heat rising to my cheeks, as she skips away, looking back one more time before leaving, the door shutting.
I press my palm to my kissed cheek.
I should think it's gross and girls have cooties and stuff, but I actually liked it.
I lied down, turned off the lights, and dreamed of Tris instead of Marcus.