Chapter One - Airports and Radishes
It was a fact, and had been for some time, that Justin Timberlake’s life was painfully boring. He had become aware of this sometime after his twenty-second birthday, when his girlfriend had bought him the new Caverns of Doom computer game and he was so excited that he was nearly moved to tears. It occurred to him at this point that if the strongest emotion he felt was in relation to a computer game, then perhaps his life was slightly lacking in the excitement department.
They say that realizing you have a problem is the first step to recovery, and so this epiphany should have been very helpful. However, it did not prove to be particularly helpful, because the fact is that it wasn’t Justin himself that was the problem. He was an arguably interesting person, with a wide range of interests, and many unfulfilled dreams, including one in which he both baked and ate the world’s largest cake in record time, which was slightly absurd and yet strangely appealing all at once. Nevertheless, it is difficult to lead an interesting life when one is a college dropout who works at a video store, survives on a diet of pizza and beer, and has a girlfriend who frequently cries and asks where this relationship is going as if she’s afraid it is going to grow legs and run away at any given moment.
It is also difficult to lead an interesting life when one is almost entirely oblivious to unusual goings on. For instance, Justin had once passed a tall, raven-haired girl in an airport who was saying to a smaller, blonde girl: “It’s just fascinating, isn’t it? Look at the way they all let themselves be hurled into the air without one bit of magic to protect them. It’s like death doesn’t scare them in the least. I admire that.” A perceptive person might have found this conversation strange on many different levels. Justin, however, merely noted that the girl who was speaking had a rather nice pair of legs and went about his business.
Fortunately for Justin, and even more fortunately for those of us who are doomed to write and read his story, his life did eventually become more interesting, if only by accident. It all began when his girlfriend called him one day and told him that she felt as though their relationship wasn’t going anywhere and they should probably just end it before either of them became too attached. Our hero probably would not have minded this too greatly (he was more attached to Caverns of Doom than he was to his girlfriend, anyway), but when it came to his attention that the real reason for this break up was that said girlfriend was leaving him for his manager at the video store (a 40-something man with glasses and far too many pairs of plaid pants for anyone’s comfort), he was a little upset. He also quit his job which, in retrospect, was a little rash, but at least rash behavior added a little spice to life.
In the days immediately following the break up and the end of his career as a Video-to-Go employee, Justin was feeling quite good about life. This, he decided, was a turning point. This was the event that was going to prompt him to go out and make something of himself. This was it. And so it was that after much deliberation, he decided to return to film school and his original goal of becoming the next Steven Spielberg.
Despite what you may have guessed, the weeks following this decision were also very, very boring. However, as fate would have it, one day in late May, Justin’s cousin Isabella (henceforth known as “Izzie”), with whom he shared an apartment, noticed that he had been quite mopey since the Breakup and suggested that he get off his fat ass and join her at the grocery store. And that is where our story truly begins.
***
“Izzie, what the hell is that?” Justin eyed the melon that his cousin had just dropped in the shopping cart.
“That is called a cantaloupe,” she replied, drawing the last word out slowly as though speaking to a small child or someone who had just begun to learn English.
“Why do you think either of us is going to eat a cantaloupe?” he inquired skeptically. As far as he was concerned, the “fruits and vegetables” food group requirements could easily be fulfilled by tomato sauce and pineapples on pizza.
“Because one of us is not a caveman who only believes in eating those things which can be killed and dragged home bleeding. I don’t want to name names.”
“Good idea. This conversation could get ugly.” He picked up a kiwi from a shelf to his left, decided he liked the look of it and tossed it in the cart carelessly.
“So you’re befuddled by cantaloupe, but kiwi should naturally be a part of our diet?” Izzie asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow as she followed Justin down the aisle.
“Well, yeah,” he responded matter-of-factly. “It’s all fuzzy and shit. Like food should be.” Izzie snorted.
“Yeah, okay. So, anyway, like I was saying, you need to stop pouting and go find yourself a new woman,” she returned to what had been the topic of conversation before she had wandered off in search of the perfect melon. Justin rolled his eyes, entirely unhappy with the subject matter.
“Izzie, I don’t need a new woman and I have not been pouting,” he reiterated for the thousandth time. He had, in fact, been pouting, but it was more due to his lack of interest in life than his lack of a significant other. Izzie was not hearing it. She had very few girlfriends to harass and force into talking about their feelings, and as such was subjecting Justin to the sort of pep talk she would give such friends if she had them. Never mind the fact that he did not want or need it. That was not important.
“Look, I know you’re just wanting to get your life together now and make it exciting or whatever, but a little sex couldn’t hurt. That’s all I’m saying.” Izzie put her hands up in surrender and paused to look at the various types of granola bars available at Safeway. Justin snorted.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that,” he informed her, though a large part of him secretly agreed with the sentiment.
“Speaking of which,” Izzie whispered, glancing back into the aisle they had just left and jerking her head towards two girls (one tall with jet black hair and deep blue eyes, the other more petite with short blonde hair and brown eyes) who seemed to be sniffing the radishes. “Those two chicks behind us are pretty bangin’.”
“It is extremely weird that you just said that to me.”
“Just look.”
“No.”
“Look!”
“No, I already saw them.”
“You know who I’m talking about?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Hot, right?” Izzie grinned at him and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Why are you so odd?” Justin inquired. “I used to think my life was boring, but I just realized that you are strange enough to change that in about 2.2 seconds.” He paused. “But yes, very hot.”
“Good. Which one do you like?” Izzie moved into the next row so that she could peek out into the aisle of the hot girls (who were now laughing hysterically about something) inconspicuously.
“Oh my God, Izzie.” Justin pushed the cart into the aisle where she was hiding and rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that he was against finding a new girlfriend, but having his cousin play matchmaker in the grocery store was not exactly his idea of a great way to start a relationship.
“It’s a simple question, Justin. A baby could answer it. Which one do you like?”
“Neither of them!” he hissed impatiently. Izzie blinked at him.
“What, are you gay now? Come on, which one do you like?”
“Izzie!”
“Justin!”
“The tall one is gorgeous, okay?” This was clearly the only way to shut her up.
“Good! Go ask for her number.” Izzie was practically bouncing up and down from excitement, which prompted her companion to think that perhaps she was the one lacking excitement in her life.
“I am not going to ask for her number,” he replied irritably.
“Why not?” The brunette frowned at him.
“Because I am not going to try and pick up a girl in a grocery store. I am not that desperate.”
“Oh please,” Izzie scoffed. “That’s not desperate, it’s practical! This way you both know you have something in common!”
“Like what? We both eat?”
“Exactly. Go ask for her number,” she prompted again.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes!”
He probably would have yelled another “no!” if it weren’t for the fact that he had chosen that moment to step backwards and run straight into someone who had been turning the corner, knocking a sack of radishes from that someone’s arms.
“Aw, shit. Sorry!” he exclaimed, immediately scrambling to pick up the radishes and return them to their owner.
“Oh, it’s no problem,” a soft, feminine voice replied with a laugh, bending down to take the red vegetables from him.
A more perceptive person may have recognized the voice, hair, and eyes and recalled a day in an airport a few months earlier when two girls had discussed the admirability of those unafraid of death. Justin, however, merely noted that the owner of the radishes had a rather nice pair of legs and went about his business.
Story Notes:
I would like to acknowledge the inspiration that I have gotten from J.K. Rowling and other writers like her. I think it's pretty obvious that there are parts of this story that are pretty directly influenced by her books, so I would like to recognize that.
Also, I should probably thank Jess (aka glitter15 on the old archive) because as annoying as she is, she has been inadvertantly involved in a lot of this process, so I guess she deserves thanks. haha. So...thanks, slut.
Also, I should probably thank Jess (aka glitter15 on the old archive) because as annoying as she is, she has been inadvertantly involved in a lot of this process, so I guess she deserves thanks. haha. So...thanks, slut.
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