"What if I got it wrong?

And no poem or song

Could put right what I got wrong?

Or make you feel I belong

What if you should decide

That you don't want me there by your side,

That you don't want me there in your life?"

Song & Lyrics: Coldplay "What If"

I still hadn't moved from the piano. And it was now dark outside. I'd managed to sit there the entire day. I looked at the sheet music that was spread out in front of me, the pages a mess of notes and chord progressions and lyrics that, if someone else were to look at it, wouldn't make any sense at all, but it made perfect sense to me.

I never used to have to write stuff down. I always told myself that it was worth recording and releasing if it was worth remembering.

But I didn't trust that instinct anymore. I hadn't used it in forever.

Besides, for all I knew, the stuff that I'd written today was total shit. I wouldn't know ‘til I recorded a stripped down version of it. And even then, I'd still have to have JC listen to it. If anyone would give me the honest to God truth, it would be him.

My stomach grumbled. I hadn't eaten all day. But I knew I didn't have any food in the house save for probably a package of crackers in the pantry and some kind of frozen meat in the freezer. That wouldn't help my current situation.

I mentally added ‘go grocery shopping' to my list of things I needed to do.

I stood and stretched, my arms reaching up towards the ceiling. My muscles were cramped from sitting on the hard piano bench all day long.

Walking into the kitchen, I peered into the fridge to see if I did have anything in there. A half carton of orange juice, a stick of butter and salad dressings. Nope. Nothing. I glanced to the wall where my car keys were hanging on the hook. I was going to have to go out.

I sighed. Going out was the last thing I wanted to do right now. I looked down at my attire, still wearing last night's t-shirt and shorts, and decided that I should probably put on some clean clothes before I left. Not that anyone would care what I was wearing. People had stopped paying attention to me as soon as the media frenzy died down about me quitting.

You'll never hear me admit this aloud but, I missed the attention. Weird I know, considering how much I loathed it when I was constantly under the media's scrutiny. But I knew that when that had gone away that everything was really over, that no one cared anymore. Turns out everyone had been right when they told me that when people stopped caring was when it was over. Turns out she had been right too, on the night of our first date when she'd told me the very same thing.

Twenty minutes later I was in the car and driving out of my neighborhood on the way to...what did I want? I hadn't been truly hungry for something specific in forever. I was eating enough to sustain myself, sure. But food hadn't really appealed to me.

Nothing matters when you're as depressed as I was. Am? Am I still depressed, I wondered?

I knew something had changed. But I wasn't too sure if it was permanent or if I would suddenly revert back to the darkness that I had been living in the past few years.

Maybe I needed to see a psychiatrist?

I wasn't entirely sure how comfortable I felt about that. I didn't want some shrink digging around in my head, stirring up memories that I had managed to suppress. I had pushed them out of my head for good reason.

Plus, they'd have a hell of a story to tell should I ever make it big again. I know they weren't allowed to talk-doctor/patient confidentiality and all that shit but, this is LA...that shit doesn't apply when there's money involved.

I guess I'd have to see what happened over the next few days. After I'd talked to a few of the people that I needed to get in touch with. After I wrote more. My music was always the best form of therapy I'd ever known. Surely it could still be the same.

I wound up in front of In'n'Out Burger, ordering a double-double with cheese combo meal. I gave the girl at the window my credit card, when she gave it back to me she showed no signs of even knowing who I was. It didn't surprise me. Like I said before, no one gave a shit anymore.

After I had gotten my food, I inhaled the intoxicating scent of the greasy food and my stomach growled loudly. I couldn't wait ‘til I got home to eat so I pulled into a parking space in the lot and dug in to my fries first, savoring the taste. It'd been so long since I'd cared what I was putting in my stomach, I'd forgotten what good, greasy food tasted like. Clearly I had been missing out.

I had just taken a huge bite of my burger, which I'll be the first to say, was the messiest thing to try and eat in the car, when my cell phone started buzzing beside me on the seat. I glanced at it, trying to read the caller ID as I chewed and swallowed the bite almost whole. I had the phone in my hand and had pressed send before I got a chance to look at who it was again.

"Yello."

"Justin?" My ears perked. I knew that voice.

"Mom..." I breathed out, wiping my hands on the napkin that I had strategically balanced on my leg. "Hi baby." She sounded sad, I could tell she was smiling but...she still sounded sad.

"Hi momma. I was meaning to call you." I told her, shoving another French fry in my mouth. "I hadn't heard from you in a week. I was beginning to get worried."

"I'm fine momma."

"I know. JC called." I sucked in a breath. Some best friend he was, ratting me out to my mother before I got a chance to talk to her. "And?"

"Is it true, baby?" she asked. I exhaled.

"Well what'd he tell you?" Best to know what she'd already heard from him so I didn't have to tell it twice.

"He said you called him today. Justin, he sounded so relieved that you'd finally reached out to him. He's been so worried about you." She said honestly.

"I know that."

"We all have."

"Who's we?" I inquired, taking the wrapping off my straw and inserting it into the lid.

"Well you know. Me, Paul, Randy, Johnny, your brothers miss you terribly..."

I squeezed my eyes shut. If I felt bad about shutting anyone out, it had been them. Sure they were older, but they still needed me. Still needed a big brother to look up to. To be able to count on. I hadn't been that big brother for them for years.

"Anyone else?"

"Everyone, baby. I talk to the guys on a pretty regular basis. I even talk to Madison." My heart pounded in my chest at the mention of her name.

"Re-really? How's she doing?" I asked, suddenly nervous for what her answer was going to be.

"She's doing well, I think. Her label just signed someone huge that had been dropped from a different label, so that'll give the company good exposure."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. She knew that's not what I wanted to hear about, though I was glad that she was doing well in her career.

"Is she..."

"She misses you baby." She began before I could get the question out. "That's what you were really wondering, right?"

I sighed out and bit my lip. "Yeah. That's...that's what I wanted to know. Does she sound happy at least?"

I could hear my mom shuffling the phone from one ear to the other, fidgeting, apparently not wanting to answer. "Well..."

"Mom..."

"I think, in most aspects she is. But I don't think she'll truly be happy unless she's with you." She told me truthfully.

"How do you know that?"

"Justin, it's not hard to figure out. I can hear it in her voice when I talk to her. And it was clear from the very beginning that you two were meant to be together. Are you planning on calling her?" she prodded.

That was a given. Didn't my mom know that already?

"Yes." I stared at the burger in my lap, longing to get off the phone so I could finish eating it. It was a two-hands needed type thing.

"When?"

I suppressed a groan. She was only trying to be helpful, I knew that. It was just...with her line of questioning I was suddenly becoming anxious over the whole thing. Over the very long road back to...what was it I wanted to achieve with this venture back into the music world? Super stardom like before? A multi-million dollar record deal? Sold out stadiums and arenas? A busy schedule with no time to breathe?

Thinking about it like that put it into perspective. I knew that's not what I wanted. I just wanted to feel normal again.

But four years ago all of that had been normal, my mind countered.

"Justin, you still there?" my mom called out. Shaking out of my trance, I answered her. "Yeah, just...a lot to think about. Listen, I'm actually getting food right now so, can I call you tomorrow after Jayce and I have had lunch? I'll probably have a bit more to tell you after that."

She sighed into the phone. "Sure. I love you, baby boy."

"Love you too."

"Oh, and Justin? Make sure you call Madison. I know she'd love to hear from you." And with that she hung up.

I threw the phone onto the seat with a growl.

This whole thing was already starting to feel like more than I could handle, and it was only day one.

*****

I called Jayce the next morning when I got up and we settled on a time and place to meet up for lunch.

Getting up was amazing. I felt well rested for the first time in...forever. The dark circles under my eyes even looked a little bit better. I could only imagine what a few more nights of ‘good sleep' would do for me.

It was when I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror shaving, a towel wrapped around my waist, that I really noticed how skinny I had gotten. I'd paid no mind to it before. I didn't care.

I should've. I looked terrible. I just can't believe that I haven't noticed ‘til now. Stealing a glance at the scale on the ground I contemplated weighing myself. I was terrified to. I didn't need a number to tell me that I was probably at a dangerously unhealthy weight right now. My hipbones were sticking out, and not in that sexy ‘V' kind that makes all you girls go crazy. If I turned around and looked at my back I'm sure that I would've seen my spine through my skin too. Wiping the remaining shaving cream from my face, I decided that I needed to hit the gym and see a doctor while I was at it, just to make sure that the rest of me was healthy.

I'm sure the doc would wonder why I'd let myself lose so much weight, and I'd tell him the truth. That I had just stopped caring, that I was so depressed that nothing mattered, that mentally I was far more unhealthy than physically and that I was working on it.

I finished getting ready with a bit of time to spare. And when I went downstairs and saw the piano sitting there, my fingers itched to play it again. To see if that feeling from yesterday was still there.

I slid onto the bench, placed my hands on the keys and began playing.

It was a completely different song than what I'd written yesterday.

I puffed out the air that I had sucked in when I started playing, relieved that the feeling and inspiration hadn't disappeared.

When it came time to leave to meet JC I had to tear myself away from the instrument, toying with the idea of cancelling on him to stay home and work more.

But I knew he wouldn't accept that.

So I got up from the piano, grabbed the keys to my Mercedes and left.

To say I was nervous was an understatement. I was petrified. I was scared to death of what he was going to say when he saw me. I'd never looked this way in my life, never been this...frail looking. Even when we were going through the toughest time in our career-our lawsuit with fat man Pearlman, I didn't let myself go. Then again, I'd had people around me constantly during that time making sure that I was alright and shoving food down my throat even when I was so nauseous about everything going on around us that I felt like I couldn't eat.

I had to look at the positive. I was trying to correct things now, attempting to pull myself out of the hell that I'd brought upon myself. And I was reaching out to the people that would help pull me out of it. JC was one of them.

Pulling into a spot on the road in front of the restaurant he had chosen, one off the main strip, I took in a deep breath, steeling my nerves for what was to come. I got out of my car and walked on shaky legs to the entrance.

Here goes nothing. 

Sitting across from him two hours after we'd started lunch, him rambling on about one of the dance crews on this season, I don't know why I had been nervous. He was the same old JC; all flailing hands and arms and loud laughter and crinkly-eyed smiles.

Still my best friend.

I was glad I hadn't cancelled, seeing him was good for me. He'd teased me a bit at first about being skinnier than he was but after that he'd told me that he'd accompany me to the gym if I wanted. I took him up on the offer-he was looking better than I remembered him being. Clearly, age was doing him good. Realizing that he was now pushing 40 and I was over the 30 year mark, I suddenly felt old.

"So, what's the next step?" he questioned.

"Lay down a few of the songs that I'm working on, I suppose. That way when I meet with Johnny, I'll have something solid, hopefully, to play for him. To show him that I'm serious." I replied, crinkling my napkin in my lap and tossing it onto my now empty plate.

He steepeled his fingers in front of his lips and nodded. "Have you called him yet?"

"No. I don't even know what to say to him. My mom says she's talked to him but...I don't know how he's going to react to this. The last time we talked was a few months after I had told him I was done and wasn't coming back. Now I'm eating my words."

As always JC had something reassuring to say about what I'd just said. "You know Johnny, he's not like that. He's going to be glad as hell that you want to put something out again. Just, if he tries to talk you into an NSYNC reunion instead of going solo, make sure you get in touch with me before agreeing to it."

I laughed. An NSYNC reunion was the last thing that JC wanted and I knew it.

I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I eyed him warily.

"You're joking."

He shook his head. "Naw dude. If that's what it takes to you get you back out there, then why not?" I pondered this for a moment, scratching my chin. "I think Johnny'd have a stroke if I threw that idea out to him."

JC chuckled. "Like I said, just make sure you give me and the guys a heads up."

"Will do."

"When are you planning to lay this stuff down? Did you want me to be there?" he asked, handing his plate to the waitress when she came by to pick up our bill.

"You busy this afternoon?" The words came spilling out over my lips before I could even stop them. I wasn't even ready to record anything, was I?

"Glad to see you're so eager, J." He smiled.

"Yeah, well..." I scratched at the back of my neck, "...I'm not sure how much I can actually get done because none of its really...written. I just kind of put my fingers to the piano and it flows out."

JC rolled his eyes. "Then nothing has changed. That's how you used to do it before."

"So what are you saying?" I questioned, folding my arms across my chest. He shrugged. "Why not just go in the studio, hit the record button and see what happens?"

I think I visibly paled at the idea. That was a terrifying thought.

"Don't second guess yourself." JC interjected and I smothered the smile that was creeping up on me. "Seriously dude. Get out of my head." He smirked.

"Shall we get outta here? Get you back to work?" He asked, sliding his chair back from the table and standing up.

"I guess now's as good as any time to do it. You still know the way back to my house?"

He shot me an incredulous look. "What kind of question is that?"

I stood and followed him out the entrance. "Alright then, see you there in a few."

We departed, him walking to his shiny black Audi, and me to my Mercedes.

On the drive home, my stomach was wound tight with anticipation. Or was that fear? Or bad chicken?

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth in worry. What if I got in there and couldn't do it? What if, when I tried to play out the melodies that I'd been playing over and over the past day and half, didn't come? What if it didn't sound as good on a track as it did in my head? What if...

...what if?