She’s gorgeous. Just gorgeous. There’s just something about her that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you know it’s there. Her physical beauty doesn’t matter, because inside, she’s radiant. You know that when she laughs, you want to laugh too. You know that when she cries, you want to beat up the world so that it can never make her cry again. You know that when she smiles, it makes you want to be a better man.

But then you realize that what you’re doing to her is nothing to laugh about. You see that you’re the one that deserves to get beat up, because when she finds out, she’ll cry a river. And you don’t expect to see that smile for a long time – not unless it’s on TV anyway.

So much for being a better man.

With a heavy heart, you trudge into your room, where she lay in your bed, fast asleep. As you get dressed, you watch her. She’s so peaceful in her slumber. She really does look like an Angel.

As you finish dressing, and are just getting ready to walk out the door, she smells your cologne and calls out to you. “Where are you off to,� she asks, just barely out of twilight.

“I have to work,� you lie.

“I’ll call you when I wake up,� she replies.

“Okay,� you say nervously. “Now go back to sleep, baby.�

She moans in fatigue and just when you think she’s knocked out again, she calls your name. “Justin?�

You turn around, praying that she doesn’t say what you think she’s going to say. “Yeah?�

“I love you.�

You wince, knowing that was the one thing you didn’t want her to say. Not because you don’t love her, but because you’re not worthy of those words escaping her lips and finding your ears. “I love you too.�

You quietly close the door and head towards the garage where all your cars sit, neatly aligned, waiting to be driven. You subconsciously choose the Viper and get on your way.

As you drive down Sunset Blvd. to “work,� you wonder what she’s dreaming of. You wonder if her slumber is filled with thoughts of the two of you. Is she planning a future? She’s says she’s not one to marry, but that doesn’t mean she’s not in it for the long-term.

But when you arrive at The Standard Hotel, all thoughts of her come to a cease and you’re left with the guilt of actually being at The Standard. Nonetheless, you leave your Viper with the valet, and your conscience as well, and you walk through the lobby as if you were walking onto a yacht. To the elevators, you go up to room 808.

You knock on the door and wait. You know someone’s in there because you already smell the cigarette smoke flowing through the cracks in the door. You finally hear someone stir and their movements are reflected in the light under the door.

The door swings open, and this girl stands before you, puffing on her cancer stick as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Laura is beautiful and you know it. She knows it. Everybody knows it. She has a vanilla complexion, but she’s dark enough for anyone to see that she’s biracial. She has ice blue eyes that bore into you, and long brown and blonde locks that she isn’t afraid to toss. She’s got long, thick legs – dancer’s legs, though she only stands a 5’4.�

The most alluring thing about Laura is her smile. Sadly, she doesn’t do it often, and when she does, it tends to have a sarcastic undertone. She has one dimple that melts your heart and makes you laugh whenever you notice it. It’s not hard to figure out why you’re attracted to her.

Not only that, but her confidence is certainly not lacking. Her swagger when she turns and walks back into the room, leaving you to watch, is enough to drive you insane.

She seductively sits at the desk in the room, making sure to cross her legs so that you notice. She wants to leave you wondering if she’s got any panties on under that little skirt.

She stares at you, still devouring her cigarette. “What took you so long,� she finally utters, full of attitude.

“I’m on time,� you reply. “It’s exactly 9:00AM.�

“You’re usually early.�

“I overslept.�

“Don’t lie to me, Justin.� She stands up and walks to where you stand, near the bed. “You’ve never been good at it.�

You look her up and down, from her petite bare feet, up her thighs, over her light pink miniskirt, to her half open white blouse. You can easily tell that she’s not wearing anything underneath and it turns you on. Your eyes trace over her collarbone, up to her barely-made up face. Her full lips make you want to lick your own, and you do. She has some crazy control over you.

Just when you’re ready to jump her bones, she turns around, flipping her hair all over your face. After putting out her cigarette, she goes into the bathroom. You wonder whether you were supposed to follow her, but you’re glad you didn’t when you hear her brushing her teeth.

She reemerges bearing nothing but those crazy blue eyes, and she pushes you to the bed. You don’t do anything but stare when she climbs on top of you. She makes you kiss her, but at the same time, you want to. You have to.

You know what her lips feel like. You know what she tastes like, but the shit is addictive. She’s like a fucking drug. You’ve been here before, and you’ll probably be here again. You want to stop it, but you can’t.

“Laura,� you groan from the pleasure, “Can you slow down for a second?�

She looks at you, and seems confused amid her frantic breathing. You can tell that she wants you just as much as you want her. “Slow down for what,� she manages to retaliate.

You want to tell her to let you catch your breath, but you don’t want her to know that you can’t keep up, so you pull off your shirt, and let her do the rest.

She knows what she’s doing, and how to do it well, so there’s no question as to whether or not it’s worth it. It’s always worth it.

- - - - - - -

After you finish your “jobs,� she climbs off of you and goes back into the bathroom, probably to replace her clothing. You’d do the same, but you’re too spent to even move.

Five minutes later, when she comes out of the bathroom, she looks fully refreshed, and no one would ever think that you two just spent the last three hours fucking. And that shit was hardcore, leg-over-shoulder, bed-to-the-floor-to-the-wall fucking. Now, she looks like she just woke up on a bed of roses. Go figure. She’s still beautiful – breathtaking, even. But you can see the evilness written all over her face.

“Justin,� you hear her say, “Get up.�

You look at her, strutting around the room in those tight ass jeans, and you want to reenact everything that just happened ten minutes ago, but you don’t. You just move from the bed, pick your clothes up off of the floor, and get ready to go. That’s the routine.

You go into the bathroom, place your clothes on the counter, and there it is, plain as day. All of your senses stop functioning, your mind goes blank, and you freeze. For a few minutes, you just stand there, staring. But you finally regain enough consciousness to get dressed and head straight for the door.

“Where are you going,� she demands, as you motion to leave the room.

“Work. Home. McDonalds,� you reply sarcastically. “Does it matter?�

“Why are you leaving so soon?�

You get nervous when she tries to play coy. She’s too malicious for it not to be an act. “Because I always do.�

You watch as she sits down and plays with the desk drawer, before pulling out a cigar. She lights it and pops it in her mouth like a pro. You think to yourself that the half of her that’s Italian has brought out the gangster in her.

“You’re pregnant,� you announce. You saw the pregnancy test in the bathroom as firsthand evidence.

“And,� she states, taking a puff.

“Whose is it,� you question, praying that it’s anyone’s but yours.

She rolls her almost-white eyes at you. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not keeping it.�

“Whose is it?�

“It doesn’t matter,� she repeats sternly.

“Laura.� You’re getting more angry with every second that’s passing, so you walk to her seat and push her chair against the wall so that she’s leaned back and out of control for once. She’s shocked, but not scared. Laura doesn’t get scared. “Whose baby is it?�

She tries to muscle her way out of the position, but you don’t let her budge. She looks at you as if she’s about to bite you, but instead, she smirks and blows smoke in your face. “It’s yours.�

You let her up from the chair and walk in circles around the room. You recognize her game. If she doesn’t want you to know the truth, then you won’t. “Fuck you Laura.�

“Yeah, fuck me Justin.� You look at her with all the angst in the world. “Boy, if looks could kill,� she taunts. “What’s wrong Justin? Hot shit Timberlake can’t stand the heat? Can’t handle not being in control? Can’t bear not to know the truth, huh?� She watches you watch her, and you hear her hurt. “Yeah, I’m a heartless bitch.�

“Laura.�

“Excuse you. I’m talking.�

“Can you just tell me whose baby you’re having,� you plead.

“No Justin. You tell me how it feels to want the one fucking thing you can’t ever have.�

“What are you talking about?� You’re confused and frustrated, but more than anything, you’re intrigued. “You can have the baby.�

“Fucking idiot,� she mumbles.

“What?�

“I’m talking about your heart Justin.� You furrow your brow in perplexity. “Justin, every week, you sail through here, we fuck till we pass out, and then you go back home – to her.�

“And that’s not what you want?�

“I want you – body, mind, and soul. But the most important belongs to her.�

“Where is this coming from?�

“From the fact that I can’t take it anymore. I can’t watch you walk through that door again, knowing that the only feeling you’ll ever have towards me is pure lust.�

You can’t believe your ears. Laura doesn’t care. She doesn’t know how.

“So I’ll make a trade,� she adds. “I’ll give you your baby if you give me your heart.�

“It doesn’t work like that,� you reply softly. “You can’t bargain for someone’s emotions.�

“I can try.�

“But I love Cameron. She’s –“

“Yes Justin, I know! Cameron, Cameron, Cameron! Two years, all I’ve heard is Justin Timberlake and Cameron fucking Diaz!� She drops the cigar. “If she means so goddamn much to you, then why are you here?�

“Because,� you start to answer, but nothing comes out.

“Because you don’t love her.�

“I do,� you counter.

“Justin, you and I are two of a kind. We use people to get what we want, and we move on. So what is it that you’re using her for?�

“Love.�

“That’s bullshit,� she retorts.

“Well if that’s the case,� you say, “Then how do I know you’re not using me now?�

“Because,� she begins. She pauses and looks towards the window. “Because when people like us finally let our guard down, you know that this shit is real.�

You stare into her eyes, which are usually ice cold, and you feel warmth in looking at them. Then you wonder what compelled her to let this all out now.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t in love with her from the moment you laid eyes on her. It was at a dance audition for your tour. You knew you’d pick her before you even saw her dance. Everything she was made you want her – even if you could only have her in your mind.

Even after the tour ended, and you two started hooking up, you knew there was more than just physical attraction. But you continued to tell yourself that Cameron was your one true love. You continued to lead them both on your rollercoaster of emote bullshit. Not only did Laura’s confidence scare you away, but Cameron’s vulnerability kept you at her side.

Laura is the lure. Cameron is the cure. And you know that Laura is right. You’re just like her – manipulative, addictive, enticing, dangerous. You’re toxic. Cameron is what you want to be. Laura is what you are. So how do you choose? How do you walk away from what’s wrong if you don’t know what’s right? Do you go home to what you know is beautiful, or do you stay with what you think is a pure disaster waiting to happen?

You don’t want to be the other woman. You’re not that scandalous. You may be a lot of things, but becoming the other woman wasn’t at the top of your list. In fact, you’d condemned all the famous mistresses. You were quick to criticize the Monica Lewinsky’s and Carmen Joneses of the world.

That was until you met Justin Timberlake. It doesn’t hurt that he’s beautiful, but the person that he is on the inside is what really got you. He’d listen to you gripe about people and shit that he didn’t know about, when your boyfriend just didn’t give a fuck.

The way he looks into your eyes when you speak – he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room. You love his effortless style; the way his shit just falls into place so perfectly... like that damn smile of his.

His charisma captured you, just like every other bitch in the world. But the only difference is that he’s not alluring you through a television screen. He’s there, in the flesh, enticing you with his words, made just for your ears.

You knew about him and Cameron. You even thought they were cute together before you met him a year ago. But when y’all started hanging out during the tour, and you got to know him, you had to ignore the fact that she existed.

It had been so long since you’d gotten some that you figured just one time wouldn’t hurt. But then, it was so good – or you were so lonely – that you kept going back for more.

You like to pretend that you’re totally in control of the situation. You know that you can have any man in the world – except the one you want -- so you play with his mind. You figure it’s some kind of payback for fucking with your heart. You don’t understand why he keeps coming back if he doesn’t feel the same. He can’t be purely pussy-whipped.

But you don’t want to hear the truth. You don’t want to hear that all your fears are coming true – that she’s who he loves, and you’re just who he fucks. You know it, but hearing it just might break you. And if there’s on thing Laura Rossi doesn’t do, it’s break.

He’s looking at you, and you’re staring at him. You can’t see his eyes, because he has one of his signature fedoras strategically dipped below one eye. That, alone, tells you that he’s more complex than he’d like you to believe. His jaw is clenched – he’s obviously tense. He hasn’t said a word in the past five minutes.

“Maybe you should go,� you finally relent.

He looks in your direction, but you can tell he’s not looking at you. “I think we should talk.�

“About?�

“Everything that’s happening right now.�

“Just pretend I never said it,� you retort. You’re hell-bent on not hearing what he has to say. “Just go.�

He walks up to you, grabs your hand, and pulls you through the room, right on out the door. The two of you traipse down to the lobby, to the valet stand where you wait for his car to resurface.

“What are you doing,� you finally question.

He has a tight grip on your forearm. “We’re going to talk.�

You try to wrestle from his grasp. “I don’t want to talk. I wanna go home.�

“Laura, stop it. We’re gonna talk if it kills us.�

“I’m gonna kill you if you don’t let me go.�

“Do you wanna fix this, or not?� he yells. As his silver Viper pulls up, he drags you around to the passenger side and throws you in the car.

You don’t bother to fight it anymore because you do want to fix it. You’re scared to, but you do.

“First of all,� he says, after piling into the car, “Are you really pregnant?�

You tilt your head to the window and look at him from the corner of your eye. “No.�

He nods in understanding. “Why are you like that?�

“Like what,� you shoot back.

“Why do you lie and manipulate people?�

You don’t really know, so you lie again. “Because I can.�

“Laura,� he sighs loudly.

“Justin, you of all people should know the answer to that. We do what we have to do to satisfy ourselves.�

“You make it sound like it’s okay.�

“If you don’t look out for you, then who will?� you reply quickly. “This isn’t a fucking game.�

“Then stop playing with me!� he exclaims. “Stop trying to compete with the world and be real. Can you do that for me?�

You stare at him momentarily, watching him drive the streets of L.A. like he owns them. It was very rare for you to be in a car with him – with clothes on, anyway. It intrigues you to see how his driving is so much like his personality – fast, but cautious, even lethal at times. But he was controlled.

“Okay, what do you want me to say?� you ask.

“Is everything that you said true? About wanting more from me?�

“This may sound strange coming from me,� you admit, “But I love you.�

“No you don’t,� he dismisses.

“Yes, I do. I am capable of loving someone, you know.�

“I’m not saying that. But I mean, how?�

“I ask myself that every fucking day, and I’ve yet to come up with a plausible answer.�

“So then –“

You interrupt him because you start thinking and can’t stop. “Maybe it’s because you listen to my dreams and appreciate my aspirations. Maybe because I seek comfort in you when someone else mishandles my heart. Maybe because you’re the first and only man I’ve been able to trust since my father died and I’m scared to let you move on without me. Or maybe it’s just because you’re the only man that’s even acted as if something other than my ass interested him. Maybe that’s why I keep setting myself up for disappointment and praying that you’ll see me for who I am. I’m not some coldhearted bitch that thinks being bad is a good reason for all these trysts. Nor am I some ego-driven whore that believes she’s only saving you from the terrible person that your precious Cameron really is. I know that she’s wonderful. I know that she’s better for you than I’ll ever be. But the fact remains Justin, that I love you. From the first words you spoke to me, to the last touch of your hand, I love you boy. You had me at the fucking ‘Hi, how you doin’?’ And I’ve been working overtime to hide that shit ever since.� You can feel the tears threatening to find your cheeks and it scares the hell out of you because letting other people see you cry is out of the question, so you stop talking.

“Laura, I’m speechless.�

“I’ve said way too much,� you whisper. “Just… Can you take me home please?�

“I’m sorry,� he starts.

“Just don’t say anything. Please.� Your eyes desperately cling to the passing scenery of The Strip and you wonder why the hell you just poured your heart out - especially when you know he’ll never feel the same.

“Can I be honest with you for a second?� His voice is grainy and weak, and you know that everything you’ve just said has scared the shit out of him.

“If you must.�

“Well I’d be lying right now if I said I didn’t think you were absolutely beautiful. And I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t have feelings for you.�

“But what,� you interject.

“But Cameron is where my heart is. Laura, you’re one of a kind, I swear – one of the baddest bitches I’ve ever met,� he laughs. “But that’s it. That’s all I see. I can’t see you. I can only see through you. Cameron lets me inside her heart. She shows me another way. She’s unconventional and unique, and that’s something you never let me see. Why do we only have a physical relationship? Because that’s all you give me. How do you expect me to give up myself when you’re not willing to do the same? Let down the walls Laura. Let go of the warrior façade. Show me your soul.� He stops in front of your apartment building, but continues to talk. “Laura, look at me.�

You turn to him and let him see all the pain that you’d never allow anyone to know you have. You let him see the emotions that other people don’t think you can feel. You let him in on the vulnerability that no one ever believed you could encompass. You let him know that he knows more about you than anyone ever has, or ever will. You let him in on you.

His features soften from a frown to confusion. You can tell that he’s just as shocked as you are to be in the middle of this conversation.

“You probably thought my tear ducts were frozen, huh?� You chuckle, wiping the sadness away.

He smiles slightly. “I wish I could hear the sound of your laugh more often.�

“Don’t get all soft on me now,� you joke. You’re not in a joking mood, but you don’t like where the conversation has gone.

“I think maybe we should work on just being friends,� he finally proclaims.

You nod grimly, because in your heart, you know that that means goodbye. “I’d like that.�

“I’ll call you next week or something,� He kisses you on the cheek as if you’re someone he just met five minutes ago. And then, realizing that he did, you offer a smile before slowly retreating from the car.

Your heart is heavy because you know that that one little peck would be forever etched in your memory. You know that when he drives through the gates of your complex and back through his own, that he’ll be going back to her.

You can’t even get mad at him because you know it’s only right. You know that Cameron is better at loving him that you’d ever even attempt to. You’re too selfish to love him the way he deserves - the way he’s loved you from afar.

You liked being the other woman for a while. Truth be told, there is something good about being bad. Things seem to only turn out bad when you’re good.

You loved him, so you let him go. You don’t resent it, or even regret it. You’re content knowing that he’ll laugh with her, cry with her, smile with her – all the things he never did with you. He’ll be happy with her. He’ll be a better man with her. And he deserves it for inspiring you to be a better woman.

You don’t even wonder if he’ll tell her about you. He’s too good a person not to. You’re the reason he became toxic. She’ll be able to straighten him out. She’ll turn him back into the Justin that you fell for.

You miss him before you even make it out of the elevator and onto your floor. You walk down the hall to your apartment 808 and realize that you left your key, along with the rest of your stuff, at the hotel.

But you hear the television playing and the smell of cigarette smoke coming from your place, so you knock on the door loudly, waiting for your husband to answer.

You’ll walk in there as if nothing is wrong. You’ll act like you really just came home for a lunch break from work. He’ll never know that in a matter of hours, you managed to fall completely in love and have your heart broken. Your husband will never know that, in your heart, he’s the other man. You’ll never tell him about Justin – even if he finds out. Telling anyone about your relationship would ruin the mystery and the magic. You only want to smile when you think of Justin. And you hope that he'll smile when he thinks of the beautiful disaster the two of you had become.


The End