Subject: Times Lost Chapter One Disclaimer: I do not know of any member of *NSYNC is gay, and I can tell you for a fact that absolutely no member was born in the 1800s, no matter how old Chris may be. With that being said, this is Fiction. I love writing fiction, but more importantly I love reading fiction. Fiction of the slash sort. I know y’all remember my other stories Zany Romance and Good Times Better Times. However, those didn’t really give me any joy in writing them. They were the same old same old thing everyone writes. So, recently, after reading many AUs (alternative universes for those of you that didn’t know that), I decided to write one of my own. This is set way back before the turn of the century, the end of the 19th century and the start of the 20th. It’s set in England, and I might have a few flashbacks to America. I don’t really live in Britain, personally, so if someone is willing to help me with locations and whatnot, that would be appreciated. I did my best with British dialogue, I apologize ahead of time because I think i failed miserably in my attempts. I know that Justin isn’t a commonly used name in England, and certainly it most likely wouldn’t be used back then. I would have used Randall, but that might have confused people, so I’m bending the rules. Enough chatter now, I want you all to enjoy my story. Hopefully, it will be longer than the others. So, enjoy part one of Times Lost. ************************************************* December The 12th, 1891 It’s been a while since I have been home to my country of Britain, but now I have returned. I don’t know if my arrival will arrival will be a surprise or not. I did not send word to anyone that I would be returning now or ever. I remember reading back in my journal, and the first entry I wrote on my way to America. I was frightened, and full of tension. I then looked at the entries after that, and I can tell you that I saw a certain change in me. I am not the naive little boy I once was, before my trip to the new world. That trip was well worth it, regardless of Father’s preemptive warnings that it would be boring, and I would never find anything to do to occupy my time. I learned much about the new American culture, and I hope to teach my homeland some of the attributes I learned. What brings me home now, one might ask, since it is a valid question? Why leave a country where I have an unlimited amount of freedom, and my future could be a plethora of different ankara rus escort occupations? While I may not have had the chance, or the wish to write home, that did not stop my family from writing to me. In fact, I welcomed the letters on some days because it brought me hope in my times of depression. I never tired of the long letters from my brother Justin. Oh how he loves to write, and I believe that one day he will become an accomplished author. Most of the news was left up to him to tell me in his own fascinating way. The letters from my sister, Heather, however, were the most troublesome, and some of the time I couldn’t bare to read more than three lines. I have never talked about this before, in any entry, because I couldn’t come to terms with what the situation constituted. It appears that shortly after my sudden departure to America, she took a lover by the name of James Bass. In many of her letters she would go on and on, boring with details about her lover, how they came to meet, and in one letter she confessed to me that they would be married. I do not know why, but immediately I attained a certain loathsome felling for that one Mr. Bass. It was around that time of my sister’s letter that I slipped into one of my depressions, and slowly drank myself into slight madness. I am thankful, though, that I procured the friends that I did. Warm hearted individuals who helped me through the ordeal, and aided me to where I am today. Shortly after that fit of madness, I decided to return to my home, and family. For what purpose, I cannot say. I either cannot speak it, it is so horrible, or I do not yet know of my purpose. I work with my conscience now, deciphering what meaning the jumbled mass of words spinning around in my head means. Do not call me insane, though. I have no intention of killing or severely injuring my sister’s Fiancee. While I may wish for them nullify the engagement, it may not be my sister’s wish. I do respect her dearly, but sometimes she needs a few lessons in real life. Since my mother’s death 14 years ago, my sister has been the woman of the household. She has looked over, and protected my 4 brothers and 5 sisters. I am the oldest, and she after me. My father, for all I know is still alive and well. I do not wish any harm to come upon him, although we do not get along. I cannot wish for anyone to suffer as I have suffered. America wasn’t all that I expected it to be, and I paid the consequences for my ignorance. çankaya escort Here I sit now, in a train car heading from Birmingham to London. I arrived two days ago, after a week and a half voyage over the Atlantic. I cannot say I am glad to be back. I have yet to determine if I am or not. Arriving on my native soil wasn’t a joyous occasion, I can say that much. I did not feel any sorrow for being back, either. It is hard to discern what emotions are pent up in my soul. I cannot say what I will do when I shall arrive at my house. It has been so long, 7 years. What will they say? What will they do? I expect most of my family to welcome me with opens arms, but there are exceptions: my father for one, since we never saw eye-to-eye most instances, and my aunt for another. She moved in to live with us shortly after my mother died, to nanny for the littler children, while Heather and I attained to the older ones. Coming from my father’s side of the family, I could see why I had difficulty communicating with, and actually liking this individual. She is a cold, heartless bitch (pardon my French), and everyone that knows her, despises her. I do not know if anything has changed, but from my most recent letters from Justin, I do not believe anything has or will for that matter. For now, we shall have to wait and see what the future holds. It may hold something unforgettable, good or bad. I am a man of theory by heart, and I believe that these situations, which have haunted me for a great amount of time, will soon be resolved. I bid you farewell for now. I shall write when I can. Joshua Scott I closed my journal, and placed it in my lap. The other passengers in my car were either occupied with their own tasks or asleep. I turned to study, out of the window, the site before me. It was early December, and the slow had already fallen in gradual amounts. Most everything was covered, and it looked as though a vast wasteland of nothingness. I thought for just a brief moment that I was on train taking me into the very heart of Hell itself. I shook the idea out of my head, now thinking that it wasn’t Hell that I was proceeding to, but rather the Lion’s Den. Which was worse, though? I really had no intention of arriving at either destination, but, for the time being, I would have to suggestion that I was arrived at an awkward time to carry out an awkward mission. As I studied ankara escort the landscape before me, I never thought I would see such a disparaging image in my entire life. It was as if the country, which bore me, knew my pain and suffering, and was actually attain that state of remorse, guilt, sorrow, the word escapes me now. Possibly there isn’t a word for what I was feeling on that cold December day, as the train stopped at London’s, and I stepped off into the chilly afternoon weather. I didn’t any sort of welcome party. I hadn’t broached the subject with anyone, as to my thoughts on coming back; therefore, it came as a shock when I heard my name shouted several times, and my one brother, Justin, appear minutes later, running through the faint mist that had recently accumulated. I had only had a short time to put down my bags, when my brother flung himself at me, and proceeded to strip me of air. After I made a few short wheezing sounds, my brother figured it out, and let me go. We stood, looking at each other for a few moments, before I decided to speak. “Why, brother, what on Earth are you doing here?” I asked, and it came out with more of a shocked tone then I would have liked it to. “Didn’t you receive my latest letter, Joshua?” He asked rather incredulously. After I nodded no, he continued. “Well, I suppose not, since you are here now, you wouldn’t have gotten it.” “What did it say, Justin,” I asked. Something wasn’t right, and I added just that. “Is something wrong?” “Well, yes and no,” Justin was stalling for some reason. He always did this when something was bothering him. “You remember Heather saying in many of her letters about her engagement with James, don’t you?” “Yes, of course, why?” I wanted to get to the bottom of this, and he wasn’t making it any easier for me. “Justin, just tell me flat out, what is wrong?” He looked at me with a bemused look for a few seconds. I hadn’t realized that I had picked up a few of America’s slang terms. “Well, their wedding has been pushed up to tomorrow.” I stared wide-eyed at my young brother for indeterminate amount of time, before I was enveloped in blackness. ************************************************* Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know i always leave off at the wrong moments, but what can I say? I live for suspense. So, send your comments aol. Hopefully some of you liked it. I do like to hear from both sides. Criticism is something writers need to hear every now and then. Again, I hope some of you enjoyed it. P.S. Joey’s mother was on the phone for those of you who were wondering about Zany Romance, and that cliffhanger at the end of part 2. By the way, I should introduce myself. Some of you know me from talking to me in the chatroom, but i go by the name CP Rich, for future reference.

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