The next day (August 11th, 2007)

Beyonce sat on the sofa watching television while eating out of a bag of popcorn. "Hmm." she took a glimpse at her watch. "Twelve in the afternoon and I'm watching movies and eating popcorn like it's the middle of the night. Damn." she stood up. "I gotta get outta here." she hopped in the Jaguar and headed down the road.

On her way down the semi-crowded street, her cell phone went off. She quickly picked it up and turned it on. Before she could say anything, she heard a voice belt out over the other end. "Oh my...fuck!!! Get that fucking shit away from me!!! Help! Helppp!!!" she made an instant stop, nearly causing an accident.

"Oh my god. Justin?" no one responded. All she could hear was a choking sound. "Justin? Baby..." she began to panic. "Oh my god." she quickly hopped out of the car, searching for a cop. "Somebody, please help. My husband's in trouble!!" she then heard laughter. She froze, focusing more on the voice that continued laughing.

"Oh my god. Ahahahaha! Ahahahaaaaa!!!!" he laughed hysterically. She sat in her car, slamming the door afterwards.

"That was NOT funny." she proceeded down the road. "I can't believe you did that to me. I'm THREE months pregnant. I don't NEED to be panicking and getting stressed out for you."

"I'm so sorry. I had to..." he continued laughing. "I had to. I mean...ahaha. I'm sorry." he cleared his throat.

"Fuck you, Justin. That seriously wasn't funny. Seriously. I was worried. I thought someone mobbed you or something."

"I said I was sorry." he repeated. "Oh! I noticed how you were calling for help like I was in the area. I'm thousands of miles away from you. Who could possibly help me DOWN THERE. Hahaha." she rolled her eyes.

"Just like I said, I was worried. And if you ever do something like that again, I will kick your ass. Literally."

Three hours later (3:14 p.m.)

Justin sat in front of a rectangular table signing autographs. "Hi." he watched as a blond handed him a copy of his album.

"Hi. What's your name?"

"Candi." he lifted his head to peer in his eyes.

"Candy spelled with a Y or I?" she flashed him her name plate that hung on her necklace.

"I." his eyebrows raised interestingly.

"Okay, Candi..." he signed his name and handed it back to her. "I hope you enjoy the concert."

"Thank you." she walked off. He gazed in on an African American woman who stepped up with a t-shirt and album in her hands.

"Hi, Justin." he smiled warmly.

"Hello. What's your name?" he asked, accepting the items from her.

"Tiffany. Spelled with a Y. Hahaha." he chuckled, quickly signing his autography on both items. "Thank you, Justin."

"You welcome. I hope you enjoy the concert." he watched as she walked off. For some reason, she reminded him of Beyonce. The way her body curved, forming her perfectly shaped ass.

"Hi." he looked away, gazing at a brunette. "I can't even tell you how EXCITED I am to actually be standing in front of you!! Haha. Here. All I have is a poster." he accepted it from her. "Oh and could you put TO my number ONE fan?" a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"Number one fan? And how are you so sure about that?" he asked, handing her back the signed poster."

"I just know. No one can compare. I even have one of those bobble heads with YOUR face on it. Oh and on my roof there's this BIG sign that says JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE'S NUMBER ONE FAN! In BIG BOLD lettering." he flashed her an awkward look.

"Hmm. Okay, well...I hope you enjoy the show. Next." he watched as the crazed fan walked off. Lou stood there shaking his head pathetically.

"Creepy, isn't it?"

"You have NO idea." he looked away, gazing at the next person in line. This time, it was a guy with blond hair. "Finally." he spoke, accepting a cap, shirt and album from him. What he didn't know was that this guy was bisexual. "What's your name?"

"Justin. Mister Justin Timberlake." he slowly looked up to gaze at him.

"Excuse me?"

"I changed my name to Justin Addams Timberlake. To match yours." Lou stood there in shock.

"You...changed your name? W...why?" he asked, kind of knowing the answer already.

"I'm a BIG...HUGE fan of yours. I sit in my room just staring at your pictures all day. I even got the same tattoo on my ankle. Oh and I got your name tattooed on my ass. Right here." he inched his shorts down.

"Oh..." he quickly looked away with a disgusted look on his face. "Please, just...don't do that. Please. Um..." he quickly scribbled his name down on the three items he gave him. "Here. Take your stuff. Have a nice day." the guy walked away, hugging the items in his arms. "Oh my god. I don't think I can do this any longer. If another bisexual guy shows up here, I'm leaving. I swear." his cell phone vibrated in his jeans. "How you doin'?" he asked the next person in line.

"I'm good." she handed him a pair of shorts. "Could you sign right here after you're finished with that?" she asked, pointing to her breast.

"Oh..." Lou rubbed both of his hands together with this interesting look on his face.

"Oh yeah." he mumbled.

After he signed his signature on her shorts, he stood up, carefully leaning over the table where she was. "Here?" she inched her top down.

"Right here." he carefully scribbled his signature on her chest area. "Thank you." she leaned in, pecking him on the cheek.

"Have a good one." she walked off with her signed shorts.

"Damn!" Lou blurted out. "You saw that. I bet that turned you on. Especially since you didn't get any in WEEKS. Ahaha." he shook his head pathetically.

"First of all, that didn't turn me on. You have NO idea how many times that happened to me. I'm so used to it. I think I remember signing a girl's ass before." he mentioned.
____________

Around six o'clock that night...

Beyonce stood in front of the stove, making her some macaroni and cheese when the phone went off. She quickly grabbed the cordless sitting on the table and turned it on. "Hello?" she answered, licking the access cheese from off her fork.

"Hey, baby." she rolled her eyes.

"Now you call me?" she stirred her pot of macaroni and cheese.

"I'm sorry. I just got off stage." he removed his clothes and stepped in the tub. "I AM calling you now, though." she stuffed some noodles in her mouth.

"Mmm. Well, I don't feel like talking to you right now. I did THREE hours ago, but not anymore." he rolled his eyes.

"You know, I'm trying to talk to you now. Why can't you just let that go?" he turned on the water. "I told you I was on stage and signing autographs. I couldn't answer my phone." she poured a certain amount of noodles in a bowl and took a seat at the table.

"I called you FIVE times. If you answered your phone, you would've known what was going on down here." he held a confused look. "I even left a message."

"And NOW I'm returning your calls. Damn! Give me a fucking break. I really don't need to be getting stressed out right now. I'm already pissed off I had to leave you for TWO months. I don't like being away from you." she bit her lip interestingly. "Besides that, lately you've been giving me this funny vibe. Like...you're annoyed by me or something. And I don't understand why. I'm not even there to annoy you. Unless me calling you is doing the job." she released a soft sigh.

"No. I just...I'm sorry. I just haven't been feeling too happy lately. Especially since you're not here. And...not only that, your ex keeps showing up here asking for you. I tell her over and over that you're not here, but she keeps showing up. I..." she could feel the tears building up in her system. "I'm getting tired of it. I don't feel to safe here...without you around." she sniffled inaudibly.

"Baby..." he paused, thinking hard about what he wanted to do. "Aight um, you know what? I'm just gonna shorten this tour. I'll be back home by next week, okay?"

"No." she cleared the lump in her throat. "Don't. I'll be fine." she sniffled.

"I can't see you like this. You're pregnant with my baby, and I can't have you walking around scared because of some ex-girlfriend of mine. I'm coming home. After tomorrow's concert, I'm leaving. No questions asked." she wiped underneath her diluted eyes with the tip of her thumb. "I love you. Now just...hang in there. For me, okay?"

"Okay." she spoke faintly.

"Hey, I'm gonna call Joy. She can't be showing up at my house like that. Give me a minute. I'll call you back in a few."

"All right. Bye." she turned the phone off. He dialed a ten digit number, and rested the phone against his ear. Seconds later, someone had answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Joy?"

"Um, yeah. Is this Justin?"

"You damn right it is. What the fuck is wrong with you? I just called Bee and she's telling me that you're showing up asking for me and just acting a fool. You know I'm on tour. So why the hell do you keep going over there?" he spoke angrily.

"..."

"Stop fucking with me. Stop FUCKING with her. She's my wife and I love her. And she's having my baby. Does that mean anything to you? Just...leave us alone. I don't want anything to do with you. And just like I said, if it wasn't for Sabrina, I would've been gone a long time ago. So just...stop. Stop bothering us." he turned his phone off.

Joy sat on her bed in a state of shock. "The nerve of him..." she spoke.

7:32 p.m.

Beyonce laid in bed, sleeping silently. She flinched, feeling a finger trail down her chest. She quickly fluttered her eyes open, instantly gazing in on a woman hovered over her. "Oh my god." she quickly sat, realizing her arms and legs were tied to the bed.

"Hello, Beyonce." Joy stood in front of her with a knife in her hand. "I'm glad to see you finally woke up."

"Shit." she squirmed violently, trying to get loose. "What the fuck..."

"Oh no, baby. It's not gonna work that easy. You see..." she approached her. "You thought you could come in and take Justin away from me. I don't understand bitches like you. With your...fancy clothes and...fake hair..."

"You shouldn't even be talking with all that horse hair in yo' head."

"Is that so?" she slowly trailed the tip of the knife down her tummy. "Then you have the nerve to get pregnant by MY fiancé? You're not having this baby. Watch what I say."

"He's NOT your fiancé."

"Shut up, bitch. I'M the one with the knife." she warned. Beyonce laid there, flashing her a cruel look.

"You so lucky I'm tied up right now." she mumbled.

"What was that? Huh? WHAT WAS THAT, BITCH?!" she swung her hand, slapping her across the face. "Slut. You have a LOT of nerve saying something like that. I should CUT your ass right now. But...not just yet. I want someone to witness it." she turned on Beyonce's cell phone and dialed up a number.

Justin sat at the bar sipping on a vodka, one of his favorite drinks. He then begin to think of Beyonce and the first night they met. It was at a club after she ordered the SAME beverage he did. He smiled thinking about it.

He was awoken out of his thoughts by his phone. "Damn." he picked it up, gazing at the caller ID. "Beyonce?" he turned it on, placing it beside his ear. "Hello?" she quickly pointed the knife towards Beyonce's belly.

"JUSSSTTTINNNNNN!!!!!" he heard someone shriek. He shook his head pathetically.

"Very funny. You think you can scare me?" he spoke with a chuckle.

"Justin, pleasseeee. Help! Joy is trying to..."

"Hello, Justin." his smile slowly faded when he recognized the voice.

"Joy?" his heart skipped a beat. "What are you doing there?" he sat up, hearing Beyonce scream in the background. "What are you doing to her? Lou!" he called for his bodyguard.

"Don't you EVEN call for help. You do and SEE what happens. I'll make sure this bitch doesn't have your baby. And while I'm at it, I'll gut her like a fish." he gulped down.

"What is it?" Lou asked. He shook his head, signaling him to forget it.

"What do you want? I'll give you anything. Just please...don't hurt her. She has nothing to do with this. This is between me and you." he leaned over to Lou. "Call the cops." he whispered. "Go! Now!"

"I want you. Just tell me now that you'll leave her. And I'll let her go."

"Okay." he paused, debating on whether to tell her what she wanted to hear. But he knew what he had to do to keep Beyonce safe. "I'll leave her. We can get back together. Just promise me you won't hurt her. Please."

"All right. You have a deal. If you leave her, I won't touch her." he shut his eyes as he felt the tears building up in his system.

"I'm coming home now. Don't go anywhere." he hung up.

"What do you want me to tell them?"

"Have 'em go to my house. Tell them there's a hostage in there. Just ANYTHING to get them to go there." he stood to his feet. "I have to go home now. Beyonce could be in danger." he quickly made his way out of the club.

to be continued....