Runaway Love

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

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Justin sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back into the plush head rest. He was in Miami on the last leg of his month-long promo tour for his second album and he was ready to go home. Though he normally loved being in Florida, the bright sunlight and lack of sleep were making both his head and the back of his eyes pound simultaneously. The top 40 station playing in the car wasn’t helping either.

‘Trace, man, turn that shit off. It’s givin’ me a headache.’

‘Yes, your Highness,’ said Trace sarcastically as he tuned the car’s satellite radio into a classical station, ‘Is that more to your liking, your Majesty?’

            Justin flipped him the bird and settled deeper into the SUV’s leather seats. As the soft piano music filtered through the car, his headache began to ease and he slipped slowly into unconsciousness, a long-repressed memory hovering on the edges of his last thought as he listened to the melancholy song on the radio.

 Justin sighed and ran his hand through his short curls. He was in what his mother called one of his ‘moods.’ Standing in front of the huge bay window with only the lights of the city to dimly illuminate his room, he felt so….disconnected. He was in the penthouse suite of the most expensive hotel in the city surrounded by the best things money could buy, yet he felt alone.             Sighing again, he rested his head on the cool window pane and closed his eyes until he heard a soft knock at the door. As he looked through the peephole, he gave a ghost of a smile at the sight of the girl with her familiar scraped up case at her side.          

  ‘Hey,’ he said as he opened the door and she slipped inside.           

 ‘I figured you couldn’t sleep.’     

  He chuckled.

‘‘How’d you know?’         

   She gave a slight shrug as she set her case down on the marble countertop in the faux kitchen. ‘You were doing that nose pinch thing on the bus. You only do that when you’re really stressed and when you’re stressed you don’t sleep.’           

 ‘You really got me down, huh?’          

  She gave him a soft smile as she opened her case, ‘I’m just observant.’         

   He walked over and lay down on the couch, closing his eyes in anticipation. He smiled as she began to play his favorite song, Claire de Lune, on her violin without his asking. As he began to drift off into sleep, he cracked an eye to get a final glimpse of her in her oversized t-shirt, shorts, and flip flops. With her long wavy hair up in a messy bun and the city lights making her cinnamon skin look almost radiant, she was more beautiful than anyone he’d ever seen.            

‘Wake up, princess, we’re here. What do you want? The regular?’

Justin woke with a start, his eyes immediately squinting at the Starbucks sign in the glaring light of the car, as he nodded.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned back into his seat and looked blankly out the window. It had been a while since he’d dreamt of her. Every time, he’d wake up with a knot in his stomach along with a sense of longing for days past. It sometimes amazed him how, though five years had come and gone, he could still remember the smallest details about her, like how she hated the smell of scrambled eggs or how she would always separate her Skittles by color before she ate them or how-

            He was jolted out of his memories again as Trace shoved a green tea and some lemon wedges towards him from the front seat. Grunting thanks, Justin squeezed the lemons into the cup and resumed his position, looking out of the window. Trace turned to a local radio station as the weatherman declared it to be yet another hot and muggy August day.  Justin smirked as he listened to Trace and his bodyguard, Will, start their usual argument over which girl at the club last night was finer.

            ‘Will, I’m telling you the girl in the blue see-through thing was FINE!’

            Will laughed, ‘Dude, she looked like a stripper. Now the girl with that tiny orange dress on…that I would gladly work with. Good Lord! I don’t know how she fit all that ass into that tiny little dress. Damn!’

            ‘J, man, back me up here. That girl in the blue –‘

Justin’s world stopped. He’d seen her. It must have been her.

            ‘Stop the car.’ he said in wonder, ‘Stop the car!’

            ‘What? Dude, we’re on the freeway, we can’t-‘

            ‘Trace, I don’t give a fuck. Will, turn this fucking car around NOW!’

            Will looked at his in the rearview, then shrugged and got off at the next exit. After doing an illegal u-turn, he drove slowly back onto the freeway and pulled off to the side, as Justin opened the Navigator door and jumped out of the car.

            Staring transfixed, he slowly walked closed to the edge of the freeway to gape at the billboard advertising some brand of tequila.

Trace slowly walked up behind him, the same bewitched look on his face. ‘Justin…’

            ‘Oh my God…it’s her. It’s Grace. Holy shit…’

            Lying on her side in a sexy red dress, her hair cascading to the ground and a sultry smirk on her face, a 30x30 blowup photo of Grace looked back at him.

            ‘I know, man. Look, before you-‘

            ‘Find her.’

            ‘Justin, dude, I really don’t think-

            ‘Well, I don’t give a FUCK what you think. FIND HER. It’s not a fucking request!’

            Trace sighed and tried again to reason with him. “Justin. She hasn’t talked to you in what, five years? I think she’s doing it for a reason.’

            ‘No,’ Justin said, shaking his head, ‘No, there was no reason. She just left. She just fucking left, Trace, for no fucking reason. She had everything. I gave her EVERYTHING! She had no reason to go. NONE! …. I needed her.’

            Justin reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, but stopped in surprise when he felt the moisture in the corner of his eye. Stomping back the car, he called over his shoulder, ‘By the end of the day, I wanna know where she is. I’m gonna get my fucking reason.’

Justin sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back into the plush head rest. He was in Miami on the last leg of his month-long promo tour for his second album and he was ready to go home. Though he normally loved being in Florida, the bright sunlight and lack of sleep were making both his head and the back of his eyes pound simultaneously. The top 40 station playing in the car wasn’t helping either.

‘Trace, man, turn that shit off. It’s givin’ me a headache.’

‘Yes, your Highness,’ said Trace sarcastically as he tuned the car’s satellite radio into a classical station, ‘Is that more to your liking, your Majesty?’

            Justin flipped him the bird and settled deeper into the SUV’s leather seats. As the soft piano music filtered through the car, his headache began to ease and he slipped slowly into unconsciousness, a long-repressed memory hovering on the edges of his last thought as he listened to the melancholy song on the radio.

‘Wake up, princess, we’re here. What do you want? The regular?’

Justin woke with a start, his eyes immediately squinting at the Starbucks sign in the glaring light of the car, as he nodded.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned back into his seat and looked blankly out the window. It had been a while since he’d dreamt of her. Every time, he’d wake up with a knot in his stomach along with a sense of longing for days past. It sometimes amazed him how, though five years had come and gone, he could still remember the smallest details about her, like how she hated the smell of scrambled eggs or how she would always separate her Skittles by color before she ate them or how-

            He was jolted out of his memories again as Trace shoved a green tea and some lemon wedges towards him from the front seat. Grunting thanks, Justin squeezed the lemons into the cup and resumed his position, looking out of the window. Trace turned to a local radio station as the weatherman declared it to be yet another hot and muggy August day.  Justin smirked as he listened to Trace and his bodyguard, Will, start their usual argument over which girl at the club last night was finer.

            ‘Will, I’m telling you the girl in the blue see-through thing was FINE!’

            Will laughed, ‘Dude, she looked like a stripper. Now the girl with that tiny orange dress on…that I would gladly work with. Good Lord! I don’t know how she fit all that ass into that tiny little dress. Damn!’

            ‘J, man, back me up here. That girl in the blue –‘

Justin’s world stopped. He’d seen her. It must have been her.

            ‘Stop the car.’ he said in wonder, ‘Stop the car!’

            ‘What? Dude, we’re on the freeway, we can’t-‘

            ‘Trace, I don’t give a fuck. Will, turn this fucking car around NOW!’

            Will looked at his in the rearview, then shrugged and got off at the next exit. After doing an illegal u-turn, he drove slowly back onto the freeway and pulled off to the side, as Justin opened the Navigator door and jumped out of the car.

            Staring transfixed, he slowly walked closed to the edge of the freeway to gape at the billboard advertising some brand of tequila.

Trace slowly walked up behind him, the same bewitched look on his face. ‘Justin…’

            ‘Oh my God…it’s her. It’s Grace. Holy shit…’

            Lying on her side in a sexy red dress, her hair cascading to the ground and a sultry smirk on her face, a 30x30 blowup photo of Grace looked back at him.

            ‘I know, man. Look, before you-‘

            ‘Find her.’

            ‘Justin, dude, I really don’t think-

            ‘Well, I don’t give a FUCK what you think. FIND HER. It’s not a fucking request!’

            Trace sighed and tried again to reason with him. “Justin. She hasn’t talked to you in what, five years? I think she’s doing it for a reason.’

            ‘No,’ Justin said, shaking his head, ‘No, there was no reason. She just left. She just fucking left, Trace, for no fucking reason. She had everything. I gave her EVERYTHING! She had no reason to go. NONE! …. I needed her.’

            Justin reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, but stopped in surprise when he felt the moisture in the corner of his eye. Stomping back the car, he called over his shoulder, ‘By the end of the day, I wanna know where she is. I’m gonna get my fucking reason.’

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For the rest of the day, Justin was on autopilot as he managed to smile and be charming through all the radio spots and TVappearances, but on the inside his stomach was knotted in a mix of anticipation, excitement, dread, and a hundred different emotions he hated himself for feeling. Off camera and away from fans, his mood got darker and darker with every passing second until, by the end of the day, everyone but Trace was avoiding him.

            At eight, Justin finished his final radio spot, got hustled past the masses of fans outside, and waited anxiously, his foot tapping the back of Trace’s seat, as Trace fielded a call from his assistant on promo ideas for the new William Rast line.

            As soon as he hung up the phone, Trace raised a hand at Justin for silence and said, ‘We’ll talk at the hotel. And get your foot off my seat before I break it.’ Before Justin had a chance to reply, Trace picked up his phone again to talk to Justin’s agent, leaving Justin to smolder in anger in the back seat.

            By the time they made it to the hotel, Justin felt as if all the air had been sucked from the car. After being snuck in through the back entrance to his room, Justin proceeded to wear down the plush carpet in the suite pacing and waiting for Trace. Finally, after another 45 minutes, a knock came from the door.

            Justin flung it open, screaming, ‘Dude, where the FUCK have you been?!?!’

            The room service attendant on the other side of the door looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

            ‘Uh...room service?’

            ‘Oh. Thanks.’

            Throwing the cart into his room and flinging a bill at the attendant, he slammed the door behind him, angrier now than he was before. Lifting the silver lid, he moved to throw the plate into the garbage, but paused when he saw what he’d ordered. Smothered pork chops, mashed potatoes, and green beans. He set the food back on the tray and gave a harsh laugh, vaguely remembering when one of his assistants had asked what he wanted to dinner and he gave the first thing that came to mind. Pork chops. He only ate those when he was thinking of her.

             Justin slowly woke to the heavenly smell of fried foods permeating the air.            

 ‘Good lord, I’ve died and gone to heaven’ he thought before opening his eyes to see the his clock glowing 3:00 am. Sitting up, he looked around, confused as to who would be cooking in his house at this hour, then he realized. Grace. Ever since she’d come to live with him, every day had been different than the one before. He rolled out of bed, threw some shorts on over his boxers, and followed his nose down to the kitchen.          

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked groggily, squinting at the bright overhead lights.           

 ‘Oh, sorry. Was I being to loud?’ said Grace, her fork frozen over the open pan and its sizzling contents.

He shook his head. ‘I smelled food.’           

 She laughed.  ‘I’m making pork chops, want one?’           

He smiled and held up two fingers.          

  ‘Two, really? Fine, but your trainer’s gonna beat it out of you tomorrow.’           

He shrugged, ‘That’s what I pay him for. So, couple questions. 1) Why is the deep fryer out at 3 am?  and 2) Since when have I owned a deep fryer?’          

  She grinned and shrugged.           

 ‘I dunno. It’s my comfort food, I guess. When I was younger and couldn’t sleep, someone used to make food for me. Fried foods would always knock me out instantly, but sometimes we’d bake instead. Ever since, I have a tendency to cook things or bake at all hours of the night. Here, watch these for a minute.’          

  She gave him her stirring fork and left the kitchen for a few minutes, eventually reappearing with one of his sweatshirts.            

 ‘Here. You’ll catch pneumonia walking around the house half naked like that, since you like to keep it icy cold in here. The artic chill doesn’t bother me, but you should remember to throw on some clothes or you’ll get sick.’          

  He started to blush, a feat few people could make him do, as he put on the sweatshirt saying, ‘Do you know how many women would pay to see this?’        

    She snorted, ‘I haven’t a clue why.’        

    He blushed harder, ‘Ouch’          

  ‘Hey, you’re the one who told me to treat you like everyone else.. I’m just following orders. Here’s your plate. Now where do you keep the hot sauce?’          

  ‘I don’t know…. I’m not really in here that much,’ he bit into the hot pork chop and let it melt on tongue. He groaned, ‘God that’s delicious. Marry me.’       

     She laughed. ‘No thank you, sir. I have enough drama in my life.’        

    Justin snorted and shoved her, earning a smile that made the butterflies in his stomach flutter in excitement. 

            Justin jumped at the sound of a quick knock on the door, before it opened.

            ‘You better not be naked!’ yelled Trace as he stepped into the dark room.

            All the anger Justin had felt earlier had given way to depression as he drowned in his memories.

            ‘I’m in here.’

            Trace poked his head around the corner and yanked it back again, waiting for something to be thrown. Seeing Justin with no pointy or breakable objects at hand, Trace proceeded to slowly peek his head back into the kitchen.

            ‘Trace, stop playing. Tell me what’s up, man.’

            Trace gave a long sigh and Justin’s gut clenched.

            ‘Justin….’

            ‘Aww noooo, Tray. Don’t give me that. Please. Where is she? Come on, I can handle it. I just need to know she’s safe, alright? Please.’

            ‘I’m sorry, Justin. Dude, I did everything I could,’ he began to talk louder over the sound of Justin moaning, ‘ I called the tequila company and talked to their HR department who gave me the name of the agency they used who told me that no one works there by that name. I’m sorry. When I asked about the billboard, they said one of their scouts found a new model to stand in and they don’t give out the names of their scouts.’

            ‘What?!?! Did you tell them you worked for me?’

            ‘Yeah and they said, as much as they wished they could, it was against company policy.’

            ‘Noooo….that’s bullshit, man. Straight BULLSHIT! I’m going down to that agency tomorrow to talk to them. They can’t say no!’

            ‘J, you can’t do that man. We have to go to Houston tomorrow morning; we have engagements there, then in Phoenix then back in LA. We can’t deviate from the schedule, you know that. I’m sorry. I’ll do the best I can to –‘

            “NO! No man, I can’t just leave like this. I can’t – It’s like a sign, you know. I hadn’t seen her for years, then she’s on a billboard right in front of me. Dude, it’s like, I’m meant to find her again, you know? I can’t just give up.’

            Trace sighed again and changed the subject, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get through to Justin right then.

            ‘Anyways, you know you have that charity thing tonight at 11.’

            ‘I’m not going.’

            ‘Yes you are. You’re a professional, it’s for charity, and it’s good publicity that we need for your album.’

            ‘Jesus! Don’t tell me what I need. Right now, all I need is for you to go find her. She was my best friend, Trace. She was – I just need for you to find her.’

            ‘Look, the agency already closed for the day, but if I find that damn snotty receptionist again, maybe dangle some tickets in front of her face or something, will you go tonight?’

            Justin nodded, his throat to tight to speak.

            ‘Alright man, I’ll do my best….You know, she was my friend too.’

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

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Grace gave an exhausted sigh as she dashed through one of Miami’s frequent torrential rainstorms. Lowering her umbrella and ducking under the hotel awning, she hustled towards the kitchen door  to replace a friend who’d called in sick at the last minute, leaving a nice romantic dinner and a pissed boyfriend back at her apartment  across town.

            As she opened the door, a cacophony of sounds and smells hit her as she stared at the complete chaos in the kitchen. A frazzled, pinched looking woman with an earpiece appeared in front of her screaming, ‘Oh my God, please tell me you’re one of the catering girls,’ then turning to the rest of the kitchen she yelled, ‘We have less than an hour, people! Get it together!!

            ‘Oh. Um, yeah. Noreen sent me to replace –‘

            ‘Thank God! You took long enough to get here. I’m Maggie, the event coordinator and as you can tell, I’m in deep shit right now. We just ran out of chicken, Beyonce cancelled last minute, and now, half the waiters decide to get sick and they send me the slowest replacement in history.’

            ‘Excuse me? Look – ‘

            “Honey, I got an event to run. If you really wanna help me, could you take that tray to the performer in the back. He’s been screaming for warm Evian and green tea for the last half hour.’

            Grace froze. Warm Evian and green tea? No… it couldn’t be.

            ‘Is something wrong? Why are you standing there? Move!’

            Grace set down her thing, took the tray, and headed towards the backstage suite where they kept the performers. Raising her hand to knock on the door, she paused at the sight of her hand shaking. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and shut down her emotions, something she’d learned growing up a foster care system where it was dangerous to show emotion or get attached.

Opening her eyes, she put on her professional smile and rapped on the door.

            ‘Room Service’

            A man almost wider than the door answered and tipped his head towards the table overflowing with everything from hot wings to a bowl with only blue M&Ms. Grace paused at the entrance, noting that the suite itself was in the same type of chaos as the kitchen. While his other two bodyguards threw a Nerf football and made raucous comments about each others catching, his stylist was making last minute alterations in the corner and a woman Grace assumed was his personal assistant was yelling into a phone about seating arrangements. At the eye of the storm were Justin and Trace, screaming at each other while playing Madden on an Xbox 360.

            ‘WHAT NOW, BITCH!!’ screamed Trace as he threw down his controller and broke into an impromptu running man.

            Grace jumped at the outburst then hurried towards the table, hoping to avoid a confrontation.

            ‘J, your shit is here.’ called the bodyguard from the door as Grace set the items on the table and began to walk back to the door.

            ‘Jesus Christ, it took long enough! What the hell was the hold up?’

            Grace was tempted to keep walking like she hadn’t heard him, but she stopped, knowing she needed this for closure. Taking a deep breath, she turned.

             ‘We’re very sorry for the inconvenience, sir. We’re unexpectedly short staffed tonight, but please feel free to call back to the kitchen if you need anything else.’

            The room fell silent.

            ‘Holy shit. Bunny?’ whispered Will, using their old nickname for her.

            ‘Hey, Big Poppa, what’s shakin?’

            Letting out a huge laugh, Will walked over, picked up Grace and tossed her in the air.

            ‘You know I like when you call me Big Poppa. Hot damn girl, I thought you were dead. And look here, you got even smaller.’

            Grace smiled at the familiar repartee.

            ‘No, it’s just that you got bigger! Look at you! How’d you even fit in here?’

            ‘It’s all muscle, B. All muscle.’

            Trace shook his head and walked over, smiling.

            ‘He’s lying. He’s on those Big Macs like it’s his job.’

            Grace froze at Trace hugged her tight and sighed, ‘Thank God, you’re okay’

            Will gave a booming laugh again.

            ‘You know Trace has always full of shit. Like when -  ‘

            ‘EVERYBODY GET THE FUCK OUT NOW!!!’

            The mini-reunion paused as everyone turned to look at a furious Justin. After exchanging a guilty look with Will, Trace spoke up first..

            ‘Justin, I don’t think – ‘

            ‘You fucking JUDAS! How dare you! GET OUT!’

            A beer bottle then shattered on the wall next to their heads. Will moved in front of Grace, shielding her in case Justin felt the urge to throw something again.

            ‘Are kidding me? You protect HER?! I pay your fucking salary!! Move!!!’

            Will silently stood his ground, not moving until Grace softly touched his shoulder.

            ‘It’s okay, Will.’

            Will turned to face her. ‘You sure?’

            Grace nodded.

            ‘Alright then. Come on yall, lets give them some privacy.’ said Will, leading the parade of people out the door and softly closing it behind them.

            Inside, Grace and Justin stood across from each other like a pair of gunslingers at the OK Corral. After what seemed like an endless silence, Grace took a deep breath.

            ‘Hello, Justin.’

            Justin gave a bitter laugh and slowly shook his head in disbelief.

            ‘You disappear for five years, FIVE years, and all I get is a ‘Hello, Justin’? Unbe-fuckin-lievable.’

           ‘Seeing as how ‘hello’ is a common phase used to greet someone, I don’t know what else you want me to say. Hi? What’s up? Salutations? Take your pick, Justin, they all mean the same thing.’

            ‘Don’t be a smartass, Grace. You know exactly what the fuck I mean.’

            Grace raised an eyebrow and took a step forward, annoyed with his attitude.

            ‘One, don’t curse at me, that’s disrespectful. Two, I am just as surprised to see you here. And you’re right, it has been a long time, so there’s no need for that hostility. Look, after tonight, we can go our separate ways again, so let’s just end it here on good terms.’

            ‘Well, it’s nice to see you haven’t changed. Still running away from everything. That’s fine, I don’t care. But you’re not leaving this room until I get a damn explanation for what you did. You had no reason, I gave you everything. I gave you an expensive-ass apartment, a new Mercedes, and showered you with MY money so you could buy clothes, jewelry, and god knows what else. And what do I get in return? Betrayal. You just left with no call, no note, nothing. Well, guess what sweetheart, no one plays me for a fool. You owe me a fuckin answer. ’

            Grace took a shaky breath in an attempt to control her fury before replying with a soft voice dripping in disdain.

‘Justin Randall Timberlake, don’t you DARE treat me like one of those gold digging bitches you like to keep around. First off, I never asked you for a dime, NEVER! And I paid you back every penny I spent. I gave you back EVERY DAMN THING you ever bought me and even gave you interest. So don’t act like I owe you anything. As for an explanation, you are NOT my Daddy, so I don’t have to explain jack shit.’

            Justin gave a harsh laugh.

            ‘Hell, I could be. You never know with a mama like yours. How is she by the way? Still fucking for crack in the subway?’

            Grace recoiled as if slapped. Pain passed across her face before she could hide it.

            ‘Goodbye, Justin. I wish you all the best.’

            With that she turned and flung open the door to Trace and Will, listening on the other side of the door. Wiping a lone tear from the corner of her eye, she stormed past them and left.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Justin Timberlake, but I don't (more's the pity). In fact, I don't own any real people but, I do own my characters, so don't steal cause it's not nice. I'm not associated with anyone unfortunately (Maybe I'd get paid for some of this if I was..hmm..) and I don't want  to infringe on copyright. Good, now that takes care of that. Now on with the show...

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Two Months Later….

Justin sat on the edge of his pool, absent-mindedly kicking his feet through the water, waiting for his cell to ring. Eyes heavy, he laid back and looked up the stars, amazed that they were even visible with the lights of LA below them.

             With her arms clutched around her life vest and the safety bar, Grace’s eyes were wide with terror as she, Justin, Will, and Trace sped across the clear, blue ocean off the coast of Jamaica. Justin laughed at her and Will, who had the same expression.        

     ‘Cece,’ he said,‘ it’s gonna be ok. I promise. Really, how often do you get to come out to one of the most beautiful places on earth with one of the hottest bachelors the world has to offer.’           

 ‘If you’re the best this world has to offer, I’m becoming an astronaut and going to Mars. Plus, I told you that I don’t know how to swim and fish creep me out. They just float there and look at you.’ Grace shivered and Justin barely managed to smother a laugh. ‘Anyways, I would have been just as happy to take up James’ offer to stay with him on the island. He was going to show me around the real Kingston, not just the touristy part.’          

  ‘I’m sure that’s not all he was gonna show you.’ snickered Trace from the helm.

‘Know what, midget, not everyone’s mind is in the gutter like yours. He seemed really nice.’           

 A stab of jealousy went through Justin as he thought of the scuba rental clerk who seemed extra helpful when Grace mentioned she didn’t want to go snorkeling.             ‘That guy could have been a deranged serial killer, you never know. And I promise, you’re going to love it. Trace, stop here, this looks good.’           

 As Trace slowed the boat, Justin took his snorkel, jumped into the water, and looked back towards the boat.          

  ‘Come on, the water’s perfect’           

 ‘I dunno, J, there could be sharks in the water.’        

    ‘Jellyfish and stingrays and sharks, oh my’ said Trace, before jumping in.           

‘Yeah, man. These waters are dangerous and some people just ain’t made for water,’ agreed Will.

            Justin turned to Grace, ‘Do you trust me?’           

 She didn’t  hesitate before saying, ‘ Yes’, surprising herself.          

  ‘Would I let anything happen to you?’   

         ‘No’           

‘Then come on’           

Grace looked at Will, who shrugged, then grabbed her snorkel and jumped in.          

  ‘That’s my girl. Now lets – ‘           

 ‘SHARK!!!!’ screamed Trace.          

  ‘WHERE? WHERE?! DON’T EAT ME!!! NOOOO!!!’ Grace shrieked, trying to climb on top of Justin, almost drowning him in the process.         

   Back on the boat, Trace burst out laughing and fell onto the deck, kicking his legs.Justin and Will began laughing as well, leaving Grace’s face burning in embarrassment.           

‘You assholes!!!’ she screamed, doggy paddling back over the boat and climbing on.          

  ‘Aw, Bunny[snort], don’t be mad[snort] I was just playing, ’said Trace, red in the face from laughing.           

 ‘Aww, I’m not mad. But Trace, you’re looking a bit warm there, lemme cool you off’          

  With that, Grace simultaneously pulled down Trace’s ridiculous Donald Duck swim trunks and pushed him in the water.­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

            Justin jumped as Trace’s ringtone, ‘Barbie Girl’ by Aqua, blasted from his phone.

            ‘Tray? Please say she’s alright.’

            Silence stretched across the line.

            ‘Fuck, FUCK! Shit! Oh God, what are we gonna do! No, this can’t be happening!  ’

            ‘Sorry J, the doctors said she sprained her ankle really bad and broke a couple toes.’

            Justin put his head in his hands. Ever since FutureSex/LoveSounds came out, life had been beyond hectic. Interviews, shows, and now, with his tour coming up in less than a month, life consisted of practice, practice, and more practice.

            ‘Justin, I know you don’t wanna hear it, but you know why this shit is happening.’

            ‘Oh shut up about ‘karma’ already. I’m so over your voodoo nonsense.’

            Ever since he’d seen Grace, bad things had been happening to him, a venue cancellation here, a studio mishap there. Mostly little things, all of which Trace blamed on the bad karma Justin had picked up from his bout with Grace. Now, with so little time left, Michelle one of his backup dancers had slipped and fallen down a flight of stairs and ended up in the hospital.

            ‘I’m just saying, man….’

            ‘Yeah, well, even I wanted to apologize, which I don’t, she’s gone yet again. I don’t even know how she does it…’ The line went silent as Justin sighed and thought back, ‘There’s one thing I’ll say about her. She could dance like no one I’ve ever seen. Remember that time she came with us to rehearsal, managed to learn the routine in like 30 minutes, then fixed shit. Man, if only I could find her…God, I’ll just have to postpone the entire North American leg of the tour, as if the album wasn’t enough…Shit. SHIT! I’m so screwed.’

            Justin paused, waiting for Trace to crack a joke or reassure him.

            ‘Trace? Hello?’

             ‘Do you think she could do it?’

            ‘What? Who? Do what?’

            ‘Bunny. Do you think she could pull it off? Learn everything in time, I mean.’

            ‘Uh, yeah probably. You know how quick she was and shit. But she’s gone, man. Haven’t you been listening?’

            ‘Well, the thing is…’

            Justin waited then looked at his phone to make sure it hadn’t dropped the call.

            ‘What dude? Spit it out.’

            ‘She didn’t exactly disappear.’

            ‘Wait, what? You told me you couldn’t find her. You lied to me?!?!’

            ‘Well, what did you expect me to do, Timberlake? Tell you where she lived so you could follow her and bitch her out again for something that happened years ago. Nah, dude. She deserves better than that.’

            Trace’s voice slowly died away as Justin slowly began to see red.

            ‘J? Man you there? Look I’ll be there in an hour. We can talk – ‘

            Justin hurled the phone at the side of the house, taking little comfort in watching the pieces fly everywhere, and stalked towards his bar and the bottle of Jack Daniels waiting there.

--------------------------

‘Timberlake? You here? Justin, come on man, we can –

            Trace reeled, pain exploding in his jaw as he yelled, ‘What the FUCK, man?’

            Justin, reeking of whiskey with bloodshot eyes, staggered before pushing him.

            ‘You think you can fuck with me? YOU fuck with ME?’

            ‘Dude, that’s not even –‘

            ‘Who the fuck are you? Fucking NOBODY! I’m Justin – motherfucking – Timberlake! I’m famous! Bitches worship me! Throw their shit in my face all fucking day! You’re nothing without me! NOTHING! You think you can fuck me over? I run you! RUN YOU! I’m rich, I’m young, and – ‘

            ‘And you’re fucking miserable.’

            ‘What? Are you kiddin me? I’m livin the dream, baby. I got hot rides, a fucking mansion, I can get any girl I want –

            ‘Except for her.’ Justin paused as Trace continued, ‘Just admit it, Justin. She was one of the best things to happen to you. She didn’t worship you. She didn’t care about your expensive stupid bikes or your oversized, empty house. She cared about you. Not your name, not your music, just you. And when she was finally ready to open up and get over her god awful past, you fucked up and she left. Now, look at you. You said it, you have everything, you’re young and you’re rich and you can’t even sleep at night without meds or booze. I might be a nobody, but I’d never want to be you. Now go to bed, you have a big day tomorrow, starting with an apology that’s long overdue.

           “Breathe like that again. I dare you.” said Trace irritably, glaring at the pouting celebrity through the rearview. Justin had yelled the whole way to LAX, vented for four hours on the plane, and was now lpouting in the back seat as Will drove the three through Little Haiti on the north side of  Miami.

            Justin met Trace’s eyes in the mirror and gave another petulant huff. Trace’s eye twitched. Justin was in the wrong and he knew it, yet he continued to behave like some spoiled brat. Twisting around in the front seat, Trace punched Justin in the leg initiating a fist fight between the two. Will rolled his eyes and ignored the two, following the GPS directions until they reached their destination three streets down.

            Pulling over and putting the Navigator in park, Will sighed, climbed out and went around to open the passenger side door, yanking Trace back into his seat.

            ‘CHILDREN! That’s enough. We’re here.’

            Trace and Justin paused to look over at Will then each other. Though Trace was sporting a new split lip to match the bruise on his jaw, Justin didn’t have a scratch on him.

            Trace broke the silence first.

            ‘Justin, I have been your best friend my whole life. I’ve had your back through everything, but so help me, if you say one word out of line in there …’

            Trace let his sentence trail off, shaking his head.

            Justin scoffed, ‘Why do you always make me out to be the bad guy?!?! Okay, last time, I got a bit angry, okay? I admit it. But she deserved it. Why does no one remember what happened? She was homeless, Trace. Sleeping in Central fuckin Park, playing her little violin for a living and I took her in. I gave her everything and what’s more, I let her in into my life. Do you know how hard that is for me?  If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly like everyone else, Trace. I’m a world famous musician. Everyone wants a piece of me, nobody wants Justin for Justin. So for me to trust her was big, fuckin HUGE. But what does she do? Stab me in the back and throw my kindness back in my face. Leave with no warning whatsoever, like a…like a thief. Who the hell does that? Then she has the nerve to send me my stupid money back, like I was just a loan shark to her. She was in the wrong, not me. So do I feel bad? No, not at all. All I want is a simple explanation, then she can go her way and I mine. That’s all, so stop acting like I’m the bad guy in all this.’

            Trace gave an exasperated sigh.

            ‘Justin, how many times do I have to tell you that if you knew what was going on back then, you’d know that she wasn’t trying to hurt you. She just had to go live her life.’

            Justin felt an old, familiar wave of jealousy pass over him.

‘Well, since you and her were always sooo fuckin close. Why don’t you tell me?! And don’t gimme that ‘it’s her right to tell you’ bullshit, I’ve heard it for years now. Be a man and tell me.’

Trace closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sometimes, he hated Justin. He hated his arrogance and his bitchiness and most of all his ‘Woe is me, I’m the victim’ attitude. Most of the time, he knew Justin better than he knew himself, but when it came to Grace, he couldn’t fathom how one man could be so stupid.

‘Oh trust me, I’m being the bigger man right now. Look, in less than five minutes, we’re going to ask an enormous favor of someone who would love nothing more than to see you fall flat on your face. I’m not going to argue about who’s right and who’s wrong, but I need you to understand that she has every right to say no. If she does, we’re going to thank her for her time and never bother her again, but if she says yes, and I don’t think she will, YOU are going to suck it up, be a professional, then, after to tour is finished, say goodbye. Do I make myself crystal clear?’

Justin looked incredibly pissed, but just nodded.

‘Great, now lets go. Will, keep the car running just in case.’

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

            Trace, his fist hovering in front of the door, turned to give Justin one last meaningful glare that read ‘Don’t mess this up!’ Justin huffed and nodded. Trace rapped three times on the flimsy wooden door on the third floor of the old complex before stepping back.

            From inside the apartment, they heard, “Solo un momento. Olvido sus llaves otra vez, Sra - ’ before the door swung open revealing a smiling Grace in a plain gray uniform holding a set of keys. Shock settled over her features, followed quickly by anger as she tried to close the door in their faces.

            Trace shoved his foot in between the door and the wall.

 ‘Wait! Please – AAAAAHHH!’

‘Trace, move your foot from the door.’

‘No, please just listen to –‘

            He paused mid-sentence as Grace threw the door open and, with her entire body shaking with fury and eyes ablaze, barreled past him up to a surprised Justin. Trace then heard a CRACK reverberated up and down the hallway and looked up to see Justin frozen with his head twisted to the right at an awkward angle as a red handprint slowly began to emerge on his cheekbone. Grace stood rigidly in front of his, her breath coming out in infuriated pants.

            ‘How.. DARE you come here after what you said to me, you piece of shit! I don’t know what possessed you to think it was okay to ever come NEAR me again, but let me make myself clear. I never want to see your face again. Got it? Good.’

            And with that Grace turned around and slammed the door in both their faces, then slid the bolt shut for emphasis.

            Trace turned to Justin who had yet to move. After a long stretch of silence with Trace wondering if he should call Will, Justin hurled his phone again her door with a scream of frustration and abruptly turned to run back down the stairs and out of the building.

            Once he reached the car, Justin slung the driver side door open and said a low voice.

            ‘Get the fuck out of the car.’

            Will looked at him like he was possessed and then began to laugh at the hand print stamped across his face.

            ‘You must’ve really fucked up, dude. She smacked the shit out of you!’

            ‘Unless you want your wife to know what happened with that stripper in Atlanta, I suggest you get the FUCK OUT OF MY CAR!!!’

            Will immediately stopped laughing, ‘That’s cold, man.’ he said as he squeezed out of the drivers sear.

            Justin threw himself in the SUV, slammed the door closed, then sped off into the night, leaving Trace and Will in his wake.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

_________________________________________

 ‘Justin, baby, what’s wrong? You’ve been looking like that all night.’

‘What are you talking about, Ma?

’‘Boy, I know you better than I know myself. You’re smiling, but it’s not in your eyes. Now, what’s wrong?’         

   Justin sighed and snatched a champagne flute from one of the waiters passing by.           

‘Nothing, Mama.’         

   It was the night of his 22nd birthday bash thrown by his label to celebrate both his birthday and the success of his first album, which had already gone multi-platinum internationally. It could have really been considered his first of three birthday parties with one upscale party, thrown by Jive, one with his family which would comes a few months later, and the last, which really wasn’t a party, but a long weekend of drunken debauchery with Trace and some of his other friends. At the moment, however, Justin was surrounded by executive bigwigs and potential investors who’d come to see Jive’s golden boy, or should he say, platinum boy. He felt more like he was performing than really enjoying himself. He sighed and took another sip of the expensive champagne, even though Jive had flown his mom out to New York for the party, he still felt like he was missing something… or someone.          

  Trace then decided to show up and sling his arm over Justin’s shoulder, his breath leading Justin to believe that Trace had been taking full advantage of the open bar.    

        ‘Why so glum, chum?’ Trace said, before giggling at his rhyme.          

  ‘I’m not!’           

‘I don’t know why he keeps lying like that. It’s bout plain as day that something’s not right... Is it her?’            

  Trace snorted a laugh into his champagne glass while Justin whined, ‘Maaaa.’

The only time his mom put so much venom behind a word was when she was talking about Britney. Though Justin had long since moved past it, she was still furious over her baby getting his heart broken.       

  ‘What? I don’t know with you anymore.’           

‘Right subject, wrong girl.’ said Trace, receiving an elbow jab and a pointed look from Justin in response.           

‘Well, who is it?’Justin looked down at his feet, starting to blush. 

‘Justin! Who is she? She must be someone really special to get your attention after the Britney fiasco.’

 ‘Yeah, she’s special all right. Justin has cccrrruussshhh,’ singsonged Trace before getting shoved away by Justin. He stumbled for a couple steps before righting himself, switched out his empty champagne glass for a fresh one, and wandered back over.

‘You might as well tell her, J. She’s gonna see it anyways when she comes over and sees you staring all goo-goo eyed like you do.’

‘Shut up, Trace! And I don’t stare.’

 Seeing his mother’s expectant look, he sighed in resignation. ‘Fine, her name is Grace, but I DON’T have a crush on her. Remember I mentioned her once, Ma. She’s the friend who’s staying with us for a while.’

His mom frowned.‘Yeah, I remember you said something about that. I just don’t like that a girl is living with you two. Something untoward could happen.’

Justin smiled and Trace gave another giggle at Lynne’s southern mentality.

‘Ma, isn’t not even like that.’ said Justin, getting a scoff and a muttered ‘ He wishes it was’  from Trace. ‘She’s just a friend.’

‘Well, why didn’t she come on out? I’m sure you could’ve flown her in if she means that much to you.’

Justin gave a slight pout and replied, ‘She doesn’t like flying’

To say that Grace didn’t like flying was like saying supermodels didn’t like fastfood. She loathed it, feared it, and tried to avoid it if at all possible. Grace’s first time on a plane was when they flew out to LA together and every time they hit turbulence, she just knew they were going to crash and die. After her ordeal, Justin knew she wouldn’t coming out to the party. He’d only spoken to her once today for a couple minutes between rehearsals for his upcoming performance.

‘Well, I don’t know this Grace, but I met this girl today, absolutely adorable, and I invited her to come to the party tonight. Lemme go see if she’s here yet.’

‘Aww, Mom. I don’t wanna meet any more of your church friend’s daughters!! I can meet women just fine!’ Justin whined, but it was too late as his mother had already walked off.

Trace laughed, ‘Don’t worry, dude. I’m sure she won’t be that bad.’

‘ I don’t care how she is, I don’t want to meet her.’

‘Why? Cause she’s not Graaaace?’

‘Ye – NO!! God, Tray, you need to quit saying stuff about me and CeCe, especially in front of Mama. You’ll give her the wrong idea.’ he sighed, ‘I need some air.’

Justin headed out towards the candlelit balcony, pausing for congratulations on the way. Once outside, Justin looked down at the soft city lights, remembering how Grace had once said she was from New York. God, he wished she was here with him.After a few minutes alone, Trace joined him on the balcony.

‘Aww J, look at you out here moping. You got it bad man, just admit it, man. You have a crush on Bunny. She’s pretty and nice and smart and way too good for you. I mean, you even have a pet name for her. Just let the truth set you free!’

‘Ok, one, you’re an idiot and you’re drunk. So, two, you don’t know what you’re talking about. And three, this is coming from the man who calls her 'Bunny'. CeCe is not a pet name for her. Her name is Grace which turned into Gracie which became CeCe after a while.And for the last time, I do NOT like Grace!’           

‘Ouch. Well I guess I’ll just go back home then.’          

  Justin whirled and froze, looking at the goddess in front of him.          

  She smiled at him, looking like the very definition of beauty, dressed in a black, backless evening gown, her hair done up in a elaborate bun with delicate tendrils escaping to frame her face. Her smoky eyes crinkled she smiled, watched Justin’s mouth open and close like a fish as he stared at her, completely speechless.  

          She leaned in to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.          

  ‘Happy Birthday, Justin.’          

  He was mortified as his face began to burn.   

         ‘Oh Lord, look at that boy blush. You’d think he’d never seen a girl before,’ said Lynne, smiling as she watched her son look down in embarrassment.         

   Trace busted out laughing.           

 After a few more seconds, Justin finally found his voice.           

 ‘God, wow, Grace you look…nice.’           

 She laughed, ‘Why thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.’          

  He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck at the compliment, his cool façade long gone.           

‘Thanks. But wait, how’d you get here? And how do you know Mama?’           

 ‘Well, Trace flew her in and I picked her up at the airport and spent some time with her while she got all dolled up.’ Lynne answered.            

‘Wow, thanks munchkin, thanks Mama!’           

 ‘No problem, baby. Now, Tray, why don’t you show me where this open bar is?’ Justin smiled as his mom read his mind and led Trace away, giving him and Grace some privacy.           

‘ You know I deserve some thanks too, right? I had to fly all the way here, even though I think I passed out somewhere over Kansas.’           

 He laughed before picking her up and spinning her around, the couple’s laughter catching a few amused glances from the other guests inside the room.Justin set her down, then gently brushed an tendril of her hair back behind her ear, his hand lingering on her face ‘Thank you.’

Grace's smile slowly faded and her heart sped up as she gazed into his eyes. They began to lean towards each other, drawn like moths to a flame. Their lips touched in a soft kiss, and for one perfect moment, time seemed to stand still. As Justin deepened the kiss, someone softly cleared their throat behind them.One of Justin’s assistant, awkwardly looked down to deliver his message.

‘Uh, sorry to interrupt but Mr. Timberlake, is needed on the stage.’

‘Oh um ok, gimme a sec.’Justin looked back at Grace and matched her soft, embarassed smile.

‘So, I’ll see you inside?’Grace, her face slightly flushed, looked up and nodded, still smiling.            

 For the rest of the night, Justin stuck by Grace’s side as best he could, only leaving when to schmooze with an executives. Even then, however, his eyes would wander around until he found her, the sight making his heart race and his stomach twist into knots .           

No, he didn’t have a crush at all.  

‘Hey pal, wake up, bar’s closing.’           

Justin slowly lifted his head off the sticky bar counter to look in the direction of the burly bartender, his eyes focusing  on the half empty bottle of tequila to his right. He stood up from his bar stool, only to sit back down as the room starting spinning. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember how he got here. He remembered seeing Grace, noticing she cut her hair, then she started yelling….and his cheek stinging. He looked up into the mirror behind the bar and saw the mottled purple bruise high on his cheekbone and it all came back to him, including his anger and embarassment.           

 She didn’t even say she was sorry! Stupid bitch. Stumbling back up, he weaved his way back towards the door.

Nobody hurts me and gets away with it!!

Grace woke up with a start, thinking someone had gotten shot again next door. She looked over at her boyfriend next to her, amazed how he could sleep through anything, and wondered if she should wake him up.

The banging started again and she realized that, thankfully, it was a person knocking way too forcefully and not gunfire. She eased out of bed and crept to the door, expecting to see the wino who sometimes wandered their hall at night. Looking through the peep hole, however, she saw a man that, though drunk, wasn’t the wino she had hoped for.

She left the chain on the door and opened it a crack.

‘Justin, what the hell do you want? It’s 4am.’ Grace whispered, her voice laced with hostility.

‘What the fuck do you think? I wanna talk to you!’ he screamed, his voice echoing down the hallway.

‘Jesus! Quiet, people are sleeping. I think you said plenty last time I saw you. I told you, I don’t want to talk to you sober, let alone drunk. Just go back home, Justin, and leave me alone!’

‘NO! And don’t tell me to shut up. You weren’t quiet when you went fuckin crazy in the hallway today. I’m not going anywhere until you give me a fucking reason for why you left me!’ he yelled before pausing and saying in a softer voice, ‘I needed you, Cece.’

Grace sighed and closed her eyes, all her anger dissipating at the sound of the hurt in  his voice. She didn’t need this.

Her voice softened, ‘Justin please. Just go home. That was a long time ago and I had a lot of things going on.’

He leaned his forehead on door and whispered, ‘Then tell me. I want to know what happened. What I did wrong.’

‘Justin, you didn’t do – ‘

‘Was there someone else?’ he asked, his voice holding the slightest quiver.

Silence stretched in the hallway as Grace paused, filled with a sudden urge to tell him the truth. How someone had came and popped the surreal bubble she’d been living in since she’d met Justin.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘ but not in the way you think.’

He jerked back from the door, somehow shocked to hear her say what he’d been thinking all these years.

‘Look, it’s late. I gotta wake up early. I –‘

‘Was it Trace?’

She stopped, too shocked to even speak.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me. Were you FUCKING my best friend all along?’

‘You know what, that fuckin does it.’

Slamming the door in his face, Grace threw off the bolt and swung open it open again, standing toe to toe with Justin.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Timberlake? Ignoring the fact that you’re accusing your BEST FRIEND, who’s put up with your SHIT for all these years, I’d like to point out the fact that YOU,’ she said, forcefully poking him in the chest, ‘and I were NEVER in a relationship. We were friends That means, if I wanted to fuck Trace til the cows came home, I could have and you couldn’t have said, because WE never existed as a COUPLE. It also means that I had to stand by and watch you parade groupie after FUCKING groupie into you bedroom, even after we -.’

Grace stopped unsure of how to describe the night they’d shared. The words ‘hooked up’ seemed to juvenile and trivial, but ‘made love’ seemed to intimate to say out loud. Justin was surprised to see a pained look cross on her face before she quickly hid it. Apparently, he hadn’t been the only one to walk away scarred.

Silence stretched in the hallway before she gave a resigned sigh and looked up at him, ‘You know what it doesn’t even matter anymore because you don’t matter to me anymore. Goodnight, Justin.’

As she closed the door, Justin watched as the fight left his eyes. He looked down as he began to feel guilty for the first time since she’d left.

Over the years, he had forgotten the girls. He tried to remember details, but all he got were blurred faces and ghosts of high pitched giggles. Ashley, Courtney, Amanda, none of them actually mattered, he’d only brought them around to make Grace jealous.

As he began to drown in guilt, a whiskey- fueled life saver came to his rescue and surrounded him in a blanket of comforting anger.

Justin suddenly erupted, ‘Fine! Be like that! You don’t mean shit anyways. And I don’t have to listen to this bullshit, I’m gone.’ he screamed before mumbling, ‘Now where the fuck are my keys?’

Grace froze in the midst of closing the door.

‘You drove here like that?!’

He rolled his eyes at her.

‘No I flew’ he said, turning to stumble away.

She sighed. She really REALLY didn’t need this right now. But, though he was being a complete jerk, she didn’t want another death on her hands.

‘Wait. WAIT! I’ll drive you. Hold on a sec.’

‘I don’t need your help. I’m fine!’

‘Just shut up and stay right there.’

 She closed door and grabbing her boyfriend’s keys off their uneven, Salvation Army coffee table, praying he wouldn’t wake up to find her gone.

Throwing off the lock and opening the door, she was half surprised and half relieved to see Justin still standing there looking pissed.

‘Gimme your keys.’

‘No.’

‘Just gimme the keys, Justin.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m driving.’

He giggled and raised the keys above his head.

‘If you can take the pebble from my hand, grasshopper.’

Annoyed, she swiped at them and missed, then pushed him into the wall, trying to use the element of surprise before grabbing at the keys.

He caught her arm as he fell backwards, pulling her snugly against his body, their faces six inches apart.

Grace’s breath caught as he looked down into her eyes and smiled.

‘We always did fit perfect together, you and I.’

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide the fact that she could feel her pulse racing.

‘Just give me the damn keys, boy.’

He surprised her by dropping them into her hand, still smirking. She pushed off of him with a grunt and walked down the hallway, anger propelling her faster down the hallway.

            Grace stood slack jawed in front of the rental car, looking at the damage Justin had incurred on his drunken escapade.

            Justin giggled, ‘Hope they got insurance’

            As she slowly walked around SUV taking inventory of the damage, Grace couldn’t help but admire the fact that, though she was afraid to light a match within five feet of him, Justin had managed to drive back to her place and arrive without a scratch on him. The car, however, hadn’t been so lucky. With one of its headlights smashed in, a missing driver side mirror, a hood that looked like a sumo wrestler had used it as a trampoline, and the paint job with more scratches than a bathroom stall door, the poor Navigator had seen better times. Grace slowly shook her head,

            ‘Honey, I don’t think GEICO could insure this.’

            He shrugged and fumbled his way into the passenger seat.

            Grace sighed sent up a silent prayer before hopping in the beaten driver side door. As she turned the key in the ignition, the engine gave wet, emphysema-like cough and stilled. After a couple more tries, Grace groaned and let her head fall onto the steering wheel.

            ‘Here, lemme try.’

            Justin slowly leaned over, intentionally crowding Grace, making her push back into the drivers seat as far as possible. He locked eyes with her and turned the key, the engine springing back to life.

            ‘I always did have the magic touch.’

            Grace scoffed, ‘Or so you think.’

            ‘You didn’t seem to mind when I – ‘

            Grace quickly reached over and pressed the radio button, drowning Justin out with the heavy bass of the hip hop music. He gave a small triumphant smirk at her discomfort and leaned back into his seat. By the time they pulled onto the highway ten minutes later, her head was pounding to the beat of Drop It Like It’s Hot and she was irritated as hell. Quickly glancing at Justin sleeping in the passenger side, Grace turned to a classical station to try to relax.

            Oh you have GOT to be kidding me.

            Grace’s hand shot towards the radio to turn off the all too familiar tune, but was knocked away by Justin. His bloodshot eyes turned to her, looking glassy and far away.

            ‘Hey, this is our song.’

.           She rolled her eyes, ‘We don’t have a song, Timberlake.’

            ‘That’s what you think. After you left, I couldn’t listen to this song without crying. You know, I can’t even watch Ocean’s Eleven anymore and that’s our favorite movie.’

            ‘Oh woe is you.’

            He ignored her comment and closed his eyes, listening to the song. As the song ended, he opened his eyes to look back at her, giving the soft, gentile smile that his fans went crazy for.

            ‘I’d give anything for you to play that for  me again.’

            Grace stayed silent and kept her eyes focused on the road. She hated that smile. That smile she used to fall for each time. That smile that made her feel special and intimate with him in ways she couldn’t explain.

            ‘CeCe?’

            ‘No.’

            ‘Why not?’

            ‘Because I said so, Justin’

            ‘’S not an answer.’

            ‘Well, that’s the one you’re getting.’

            ‘Did you forget the song?’

Justin smirked as her jaw clinched in annoyance and watched as the speedometer crept to 80 mph.

‘Did you forget how to play?’

80 became 85.

 ‘Or better yet did you lose your violin?’

85 went up to 90.

‘Or is it because deep down you’re still not over me?’

‘AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!’

Grace violently turned the wheel, barely missing a lone Toyota, and flew across five lanes before screeching to a halt in the emergency lane with Justin screaming the whole way.

‘I AM SO SICK OF YOU!!! Why can’t you just shut the FUCK up and let me drive, huh?!?! You wanna know why I can’t play that damn song for you? Huh, do you? Cause I have RESPOSI-FUCKIN-BILITIES!! I needed money for rent and either I had to pawn the damn violin or we’d get kicked out. And I REFUSE to go down that road again, so I made the choice and now I have a home for the next month, okay? Okay?!? Now you know, so why don’t you just sit over there and let me enjoy the fuckin silence.’

            Justin, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar, nodded and looked down, quietly absorbing what she’d just said.

            ‘THANK you. God!’ said Grace before taking a few calming breaths and edging back out into the freeway.

            After another ten minutes of silence, Grace began to see signs for Downtown and realized she had no idea where she was going. She took a deep breath and glanced over.

            ‘Where are you staying?’

            ‘Who’s we?’

            Grace paused, ‘Huh?’

            ‘You said we’d be kicked out. Who’s we?’

            ‘Justin…’

            ‘We’ll trade’

            She looked over again to see Justin set his mouth and weighed the options in her head.

            ‘Fine. We is myself and Luc, the man that I love.’

            Justin fell silent.

            ‘Well, which hotel?’

            Grace turned to watch Justin looking out the window, the glass reflecting his crestfallen look.

            After a stretch of silence, he whispered, ‘The Hilton’

            ‘Ok, what room number’

            He shrugged.

            ‘What name did you use for the reservations?’

            He shrugged again.

            She nodded and aimed towards the luxurious oasis situated in the heart of downtown Miami.  Inwardly, she gave a bitter laugh. Of all the hotels in the huge downtown area, he would pick the where she worked as a maid. Hell, come morning she’d probably have to clean his suite. Sometimes she’s hated life’s ironies.

            As Grace rode down Biscayne Boulevard, she smiled as she contemplated dropping Justin’s drunk ass off at the brightly lit front entrance of the hotel where the paparazzi would snap a million photos of him falling out of the car and passing out in the lobby. Her joy slowly died, however, as she thought of the embarrassment, the weeks of tabloid fodder, and all the shit Justin’s people would have to wade though to patch up his image. Damn her conscience. She sighed in longing as the beautiful glass castle came into view. Ever since she came to Miami, she had dreamed of watching the sun rise over the city through the panoramic windows in the lavish suites she cleaned on a daily basis, but her life had always been more pauper than prince. Grace morosely turned and went around to the hidden employees entrance in back.

            She turned to poke him in the arm.

            ‘Hey, wake up. We’re here.’

            Justin groaned and curled further into the seat.

            She poked him again with more force.

            ‘WAKE UP!”

            Justin rolled farther away from her and gave a garbled, ‘No, Don’t wanna.’

            Grace jumped out of the driver seat and gave the door a slam, hoping the noise would wake him up. Justin laid there, deaf to the world, annoying her even further. Wrenching open the passenger side door, Grace grunted as she tried to pull Justin out of the car, practically dislocating his arm.

            His eyes opened a crack.

            ‘Oooooowwwww.’

            ‘Come on, Justin. I’m sure Trace is worried sick about you.’

            ‘Trace dosssn’t care. He let me lose you.’

            Grace paused, took a deep breath, then pulled Justin out of his seat and onto his feet, staggering with his weight.

            Justin suddenly grasped her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes.

            ‘You are such a beautiful person.’

            Then his forehead fell to her shoulder as he emptied his stomach all over her tank top.

            Thirty minutes later, Grace knocked on the door marked 1108 which was immediately opened by an anxious Trace.

            ‘Lose something?’

Justin looked down to check his watch. 9:30.

‘Great, just fuckin great,’ he muttered walking down the hall to the dance studio.

It had been two days since he woke up in the penthouse suite covered in his own puke and smelling like a brewery. Though he only had a few flashes of what happened that night, the only thing on Justin’s mind was why, even though he’d taken the car and run off, Trace didn’t freak out on him. In fact, he’d done the exact opposite and went along as if nothing had happened, which only made Justin even more nervous as he waited for Trace to start screaming or at least lecture him on responsibility. With each hour that passed, Justin became increasingly antsy and wallowed in an even fouler mood; he missed appointments, canceled appearances, and was now thirty minutes late for dance rehearsal.

As he reached for the door handle, it swung out, almost catching him in the face.

‘The hell?’

‘Oh, sorry I – hi, Justin.’

He froze, eyes wide with surprise, and stared as the woman in front of him ran a hand through her familiar, dark chocolate curls in agitation.

‘Hey can I, um, talk to you for a second…In private.’

Before he could snap out of it, Grace gently reached for his arm and pulled a stunned Justin into the studio’s back stairwell.

She quietly shut the door behind them then turned to face Justin, who had composed himself and was now seething with anger.

‘What in the motherfuckin hell are - ’

‘Wait!’ said Grace, throwing up her hands as if she could physically stop his words.

‘Look, I know you’re angry and hate me and stuff, but just lemme get this out, ok? Then go ahead and cuss me out, but just hold on – Ok. Um, I’m not sure if you remember this cause you were pretty out of it, but that night in Miami, I took you back to your hotel and before I left, Trace and I…talked. He said you needed a dancer and I know we’re not the best of friends or whatever, but it was either keep working three jobs just to get by or take his offer and make more money in three months than I do all year.’

Grace took a deep breath and continued.

‘I know we have,’ she struggled to find the right word, ‘…some history, but for the sake of the tour and the fact that we’re going to start seeing a lot of each other, can’t we just, I dunno, not kill each other and try to be polite? I’d rather not have to explain our constant fighting to those people in there.’

She looked up at Justin, who silently stood, thinking about what she’d just said. Deep down, he knew Grace was right, but for reasons he didn’t fully understand, he didn’t want to change their angry, back and forth relationship.

After a long pause, he finally said, ‘I’ll admit, you’re right, despite the fact that you decided to conspire behind my back with my best friend rather than talk to me about it yourse -  ’

‘Like you were in any state to discuss a business proposition! Look, the minute I signed on, I became invested in this tour and will do whatever it takes to have it succeed. If it means moving away from my home, my job, my boyfriend, fine. If it means I have to get here at five every morning and bust my ass to learn in three weeks what y’all have had months to prepare for, fine. And if it means being around you for the next three months, then so be it. I’m going to suck it up and be professional and I suggest you do the same. I’ll see you inside.’

And with that she turned on her heel and strode back into practice.

For the second time that day, Justin stood speechless.

 Well, you gotta admit, the girl knows how to make an exit. 

Justin stood there for a few moments then gave a resigned sigh and slowly walked towards the studio.

When he entered the room, the music stopped.

‘Mr. Timberlake! How kind of you to drop by!’

Justin mumbled an apology then shuffled over to throw his duffle bag against the wall.

Marty Kudelka, his eccentric, overly-dramatic choreographer, stalked towards him, giving him an evil smile.

‘Oh you will be sorry after I finish working your ass. And on today of all days, when we have a new member joining us. This is Grace, the newest member of our little ensemble; she’ll be replacing Michele for the North American leg of the tour. Now before you say anything, our little Grace is very good at what she does and has already learned the routines for a couple of the songs.’

Justin turned to her and gave a curt nod, getting a small polite smile in return, and went back to putting on his shoes, ignorant of the inquisitive eyes watching their interaction with keen interest.

‘Alright people, off your asses. The king has arrived, now it’s back to work. We’re starting with Sexyback on three and so help me Kristen, if you fuck up that ball-step-change again, I’ll kill you myself.’

Two hours later however, it wasn’t Kristen, but Justin that continuously messed up the routine.

Erratically sliding to the left, he bowled over Eddie, another one of his dancers, whose face constricted in pain.

Marty jumped up from his chair, ‘Christ on a crutch! Justin!!! Sweetie, where’s your head? Ed, are you okay?’

Getting a slight nod from Eddie, Marty slid a glare over to Justin before snapping,

 ‘Okay again from ‘wrote you a love note’ and five – six – seven – and’

My Love started again and Justin began the slide-hit-turn-step number, glaring at himself in the mirror, silently daring himself to make another wrong move. As the chorus began, Grace sashayed up to his left, grabbing his hand for the next move in which Justin was supposed to spin her into his arms then out again. Though he had been trying to shake off his nerves all morning, Justin paused at Grace’s touch then, realizing his hesitation had thrown them off beat, tried to spin Grace even faster to make up for time. Unfortunately, he only succeeded in practically throwing into the other set of dancer, sending them all into a heap on the floor.

Marty, shaking with fury, rose from his chair and screamed, ‘OH FUCK ME! That’s it, lunch break everybody. You,’ he said pointing to Justin, ‘we need to talk.’

Justin lowered his head in defeat, grabbed his water bottle, and ambled over to the seething choreographer.

Marty began to pace in front of him, ‘Jesus, Justin! What’s going on out there? I don’t – I don’t even know what to say to you. Are you purposely trying to injure the rest of my dancers? Cause I can assure you, Grace was a godsend and you only get one of those if you’re lucky. I am not gonna baby you. You’ve been unfocused and downright shitty since you got here!’

Justin looked down, his face burning with shame,  and shrugged, ‘I dunno, I’m just off today I guess. I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah, well, you better find some way to turn it back on, cause that shit ain’t gonna cut it! And I would rather quit right now than put on a shitty ass tour, which is what you’re going to have if you keep this up. Now, you better take this break and, I don’t know, do some yoga or take a nap or something to refocus yourself because you look more awkward than a nun in a strip club and I can’t have you doing that, honey. So just go find your mojo, okay?’

Justin, angry and thoroughly mortified, gave a stiff nod and walked out of the studio.

A few minutes later, Justin paced in the alley behind the studio, deep in thought.

He had no idea how to get his “mojo” back. Absolutely none. He’d tried deep breathing earlier on in practice, but could only concentrate on Grace and that damn vanilla shampoo she used. Every time he looked at her, a different memory surfaced. No matter how simple the memory, like Grace playing with his dogs or Grace cooking with his mom, Justin would instantly lose his focus and miss the step or sometimes stop all together.

Justin squatted down and poured the remainder of his water bottle over his head, letting the tiny rivulets cool his shoulders and chest. He needed to talk to someone, but there was no one to call. His mother still couldn’t even say Grace’s name without launching into a furious tirade about responsibility and gratitude. And then there was Trace. Justin pulled out his phone and hesitated, his finger hovering over the number three. Sure, Trace was his best friend, but Justin was mad at him for lying to him…well not so much lying as making Justin look like an ass. He sighed and looked down at the number five.

There was one more person he could call. He used to talk to her about any and everything. They could talk for hours about why Tivo was the greatest invention ever created or whether Thai food was better than Chinese, but now all that seemed to exist between them was an awkward silence. And with the whole recent Grace situation, Justin knew he’d pulled even further away from her, his girlfriend in name only, Cameron. Every time he saw her, he saw the pain reflected in her eyes that came from neither of them wanting to let go, to kill the hope of them becoming what they used to be.

With a slow, regretful sigh, Justin held down the three button and waited for Trace to pick up.

‘Hel – ‘

‘You are a backstabbing little bastard, you know that?’

He heard Trace pause and could almost see him opening and closing his mouth, trying to decided which words would placate Justin the best.

‘Justin, look. I had to do something –‘

‘Trace, I’m not saying your actions were wrong. The tour needed a dancer and I understand why you brought her on, but couldn’t you tell me? God, I stood there like an idiot while she blasted my ass!’

‘No, J, I couldn’t. How would you have reacted?’

Justin stayed silent, knowing he would have went apeshit and demanded she quit.

‘Exactly. Is everything going ok?’

Justin groaned and ran a hand over the stubble on his head.

‘God, I dunno man. She just has this…this hold on me, you know? Like I know these routines, I mean I know these steps, and today, with her around, I’ve been fucking up bad. REALLY bad. It’s embarrassing and Marty yelled at me and I don’t know how to….get back to where I was…’

The line went silent as Trace paused in thought.

‘So you admit you still have feelings for her?’

‘WHAT? No! Like feeling feelings? No! The only thing I feel for her is the urge to wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze.’

‘So you do have feelings. Even if they’re anger. Well, use that then Justin. Use that anger to do well. I know this is crazy coming from me, but if you focus on the anger instead of her, maybe you can make it through rehearsal.

Think of it as a challenge. She came into your hometown, walked onto your court and she’s wiping the floor with you. If you use all the anger and shit, you’ll be able to do something, at least not fall on your face.’

Justin nodded.

‘Yeah you’re right. Anger. She comes all the way here and makes me look bad. Yeah, I can work with that. Oh and don’t take this call the wrong way. You’re still a backstabbing bastard.’

‘And you’re still a whiny little bitch.’

Justin smiled. Some things just never change.

‘Thanks for saving my ass man.’

‘Meh, I own you now. Don’t forget it.’

And with that Trace hung up, leaving Justin with a sense of calm and a game plan: Transform the anger … and get over Grace.