Sweet Confessions

"Shit." I watched  in circles nervously, trying to recall the things that may have happened  the night before.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" But unfortunately, none of them cared enough to run through my memories. All I remembered was the drinking binge that I had, the hangover still evident in my head. But other than that, everything was a complete blur. But still, there was a great need for me to recall where I had put my diary, which was the reason for my sudden urge to go looking in every flat surface present like a crazy person searching for his imaginary friend to start with, otherwise... well, lots of possibilities.

First, I was dead. Second, I was dead, and third, I was dead.

There was no way I could have misplaced that little book where I had kept all my private little secrets in... I was JC Chasez, damn it! I knew better than to mindlessly leave my stupid journal lying around for other people to see.

But, oh God, help me, why wasn't it in its usual secret place? Did I by any chance forget to keep where it was supposed to be? Or, maybe I left it in the tour bus due to the rush, or maybe, just maybe... somebody sneaked in my room and yanked it from under the pillows?

But why would anyone be interested in it? Or why would anyone know it existed in the first place? Oh no, this couldn't be happening to me... But I gonna face it, it was.

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Is it legal to look that good?

My focus was dead set on one person, my mind asking the same question over and over again. His torso-- that long neck, that shoulder, those arms, that well-built chest, those muscular abs-- was coated with skin so soft and smooth it was glistening under the sunlight, as I watched him intently from a distance.

His striking beauty never missed to amazed me despite the regularity of our being together. He lived under the same roof as I did on a regular basis; however, his radiance and charm was not something I could ever get used to.

"Nice shot, Curly!" I cheered, giving Justin a thumbs-up as he ramped his way through the court and made a perfect 3-point shot.

Chris and Lance, whose team was obviously behind the game, glared playfully at me. It didn't matter; as long as Justin was appreciating my voiced out admiration. Joey, on the other hand, was grateful he got chosen to be Justin's partner in the team this time; otherwise he'd be in the loser team three times in a row.

This day was not like any other day--it was my birthday. It was our second day in my L.A house, and the guys were already preparing themselves for the party tonight by playing basketball. It was nothing big, the party. Well, I still had yet to see... Chris and Joey were the ones responsible for the guest list.

And ironically, the guys wanted to get themselves pumped up for the big day by starting it with playing the tiring game of basketball. And thankfully, I didn't have to play, courtesy of Justin Timberlake. He said, "Okay, Jace, you can just sit down and watch. Take it as my birthday present for you."

So that's exactly why I was just an audience to their ridiculously exciting game, no pun intended. Chris and Joey, as usual were overly hyper, almost ready to jump out to their skins, well, at the beginning of it, at least. Lance, poor Lance, his skills hardly improved; now I realized how the month's worth of basketball lessons with Justin had been a waste. And Justin, oh my Justin, he was playing the ball like he owned the game. He had always been the best, best at everything, may I add.

He'd run around the court, pasr Lance and Chris, with the ball on his hands, swift and quick as the cat, sliding through his opponents so smoothly and flawlessly it'd be difficult to catch up with his amazing speed. And sometimes if the other team was on possession, he'd steal the ball from their loose grip right under their noses.