I love my friends. I really do.    

But, there are times where I wonder why the hell I keep them around.    

This is one of those times.

She grabs the yellow bottle
She likes the way it hits her lips
She gets to the bottom
It sends her on a trip so right
She might be goin' home with me tonight

She looks like a model
Except she's got a little more ass
Don't even bother
Unless you've got that thing she likes
I hope she's goin' home with me tonight    

"What the hell is this crap?" I ask as I toss my bag onto the counter.    

Every day, I come into work,  and Cooper has music blaring throughout the store. 90 percent of the time, it's some bass heavy techno crap that he thinks is fantastic. Or, there's some indie rock band that Jules is obsessing over for the moment, pouring from the speakers.    

The days that I actually have the privilege of picking the music, you're probably going to hear various hits of the 80's. What can I say? I'm a vintage type of girl.    

However, I can't even begin to guess which one of them picked the nonsense that's booming from the stereo today, but I know why they're playing it. And I'm not even slightly amused.

Those flashing lights come from everywhere
The way they hit her I had to stop and stare
She's got me love stoned
Man I swear she's bad and she knows
I think that she knows
    

"You mean you don't know?" Cooper grins and hops up on the back counter. "We picked it just for you."        

"Turn it off." I mutter before I grab a box of new polo shirts and begin folding them.    

"It's actually pretty good." Jules laughs at the scowl on my face and continues bobbing her head along with the beat.    

"I don't care if it's the greatest album known to man. Turn it off."    

I know you probably think I'm insane.    

Most women would be shitting themselves if a pop-star was aggressively pursuing them. But frankly, it's become pretty damn annoying.    

Especially since he is everywhere. I can't turn on my radio or TV without seeing or hearing something about him. It's like, no matter what I do... I can't escape him.     

And those jackasses I call my friends aren't helping matters either. They're both incredibly amused by the whole thing and are constantly finding various ways to torture me.    

Just yesterday, I came home from work to find a very large poster of a shirtless Justin hanging above my bed.     

I bet you can guess how funny I thought that was.    

And today, they're blaring his music as loud as humanly possible, and laughing their asses off at my irritation.    

Now do you see why I need new friends?    

They both seem to think that my refusal of Justin's advances is a sure sign that I've completely lost my mind.    

I mean, ok fine... he is attractive, but that's pretty easy to overlook when you consider the fact that he's beyond arrogant. No level headed man says the kind of shit Justin does.     

He's got this idea stuck in his head that I'm turning him down, simply because I like the attention. Honestly, he couldn't be more off base if he tried.     

Colin Farrell could walk in here right now, profess his undying love for me and get down on one knee, and I'd turn him down too.    

I just don't want or need to be involved with anyone right now. And, even if I was in the market for a man, it most certainly wouldn't be Justin.    

You know how sometimes you meet someone and you just know that you wouldn't like them? That's exactly how I feel about Justin. And with all of his stupid pick up lines and shameless flirting, he's just proving me right.    

He's just so... pathetic. I mean, only an incredibly desperate loser would keep coming back like that. The only thing I can figure is, maybe he's just not used to being shot down, and his ego refuses to let it happen.    

Unfortunately for him, he's in for a big fucking reality check, cause it's not going to happen.    

The doors to the shop swing open, and I have to bite my tongue to contain my giggles at the sight of the two hulking black men who just walked in. They're both dressed in black jeans and t-shirts, and look like they're ready to tear apart the first person who even looks at them funny.    

I really try to not make fun of the customers, but sometimes, it's impossible not to. We get some pretty wild characters in here, and I'd never get anything done if I commented on everyone who passes through those doors.    

Upper Manhattan is full of weirdos, everybody knows that. Which I guess, is why Cooper picked this location.    

Apparently, his main goal in life has always been to have his own clothing line and store. His parents put him through school and once he graduated, he started designing clothes. When the parentals saw just how talented he was, they put up the money and bought him the store.    

He still has a way to go, but he's making a pretty good name for himself.    

Now, here's where two plainly dressed giants coming into the store looks a bit odd.    

Everything Coop designs is supposed to be super trendy and catered to the socialites of New York. So, exactly what the hell are these two doing here?    

"One of y'all Cooper Henson?" The larger of the two asks as he eyes the three of us suspiciously.    

"That'd be me." Cooper smiles as he quickly jumps off the counter and extends his hand to them. "What can I do for you gentlemen?"        

"We'd like to speak with you..... outside." The other man says gruffly, pausing to shoot Jules and I a disdainful glare.    

"Is there some kind of problem?"    

"Outside." The larger man nods and the two of them head for the door, Cooper trailing reluctantly behind them.   

Have I mentioned that Cooper is a fucking idiot? Seriously, who in their right mind follows orders from complete strangers?    

Oh God, what if they're bookies or something? What if Cooper had some tie to the mob?    

Holy hell, they're gonna kill us all.    

While I'm freaking out, Jules doesn't seem the least bit phased.  But then again, the world could blow up around her and she'd probably just shrug her shoulders and light a cigarette.    

Like Cooper, Jules has had a pretty much free ride all of her life. Honestly, she doesn't even need this job. Her dad is in real estate and has made a fucking  fortune. I'm sure you can assume that Jules has quite the trust fund.    

I don't mean to sound like I'm judging them, because I'm not. But, it'd be nice to have even half the help they do.     

Unfortunately, I've been paying my own way since the day I turned 18.    

Cooper finally re-enters the store and quickly starts pulling down the shades.

"Em, can you go lock the backdoor?"    

"Umm... why?"    

"We've gotta shut down for awhile. Celebrity." He says simply.    

I don't mean to sound like a brat or anything,  but I really fucking hate when famous people come here. They always demand that we put the store on lock down so they can browse for God knows how long.    

Now, when they spend an insane amount of money, it's not so bad. But, when they come in and don't spend a single dime, it's a little irritating.    

Several months ago, Paris Hilton came in and we had to shut down for damn near four hours while she pawed through every rack and tried on half the shit in the store.    

And what did she buy, you ask?    

A fucking two dollar hair clip.    

Naturally, Cooper was beyond livid.    

Honestly, I think it's a power thing. They like knowing they can close a business on a whim. Never mind the fact that the place is losing money just so they can fuel their ego.    

The two mountains disguised as men return, this time with two other men behind them. One is fairly short and the other has to be a good six feet tall.    

Fucking hell.    

Jules scrambles to the stereo and shuts it off as the taller of the two saunters up to the counter and leans against it, his usual smirk in place.    

"Just can't get enough of me, can you? I'd be happy to autograph that if ya want."    

"The first night at the bar was more than enough. Thanks." I smile sarcastically at him and he chuckles softly.    

"So... I didn't know you worked here."    

"Probably because I haven't told you anything about myself. And now... you officially know way too much."    

"Aww... what's with the hostility Emma?"    

"What's with the stalking and sexual harassment Justin?" I mock his sickeningly sweet tone and smile a little when a frown quickly takes over his features.    

"Why are you such a bitch?"        

"She has a chemical imbalance!" Cooper chimes in. "So... anything particular you're looking for?"    

"Nah, not really." Justin shrugs as his eyes scan the store.    

"Alright, well... holler at me if you need anything."    

"J... check this out man!" Justin's small companion calls out. He gives me the once over before joining his friend on the other side of the building, completely ignoring me for the first time since the day we met.     

"Why won't you just go out with him?" Jules asks suddenly.     

"Because he's an ass." I reply and go back to my folding.    

"Well... his fine ass likes you."    

"No Jules, he doesn't. He wants to sleep with me. Big difference."    

"So? Bang him. He's not bad to look at, and all those tabloids say he's got some pretty damn good equipment." She giggles as she holds her hands several inches apart. "You haven't gotten laid since Andrew. It might loosen ya up."    

"Andrew who?" I ask through gritted teeth.    

"Oh right." She rolls her eyes and sighs. "We don't talk about Andrew." She mutters before disappearing into the back of the store.    

Yeah, I definitely need new friends.

*******************    

"One drink. That's all I'm asking." I roll my eyes and quickly turn my barstool away from him. Jules arches her eyebrows at me, silently asking why I'm being such a cold hearted witch.     

I thought after the incident at the store this morning, that I was rid of his pesty ass once and for all. He and his entourage meandered around for an hour or so before he finally picked out a few shirts, paid, and left. He didn't say a word and I figured the reality of our situation had at last settled into that thick skull of his.    

Turns out.... I was wrong.    

I spotted him as soon as we walked into the bar and he's spent the last 45 minutes following me around and practically begging to buy me a drink. He's got another thing coming if he thinks the key to his success is getting me plastered.    

I really just do not understand any of this. I mean, what the hell is it gonna take to get through to him?    

I feel him grip the back of my seat and he quickly spins me around to face him.    

"What is your freaking deal? I said no." I yell over the pounding music, fully expecting him to get pissed and call me a bitch like he did this morning. Instead, he smiles and shakes his head.    

"I like you Emma. I don't know why you think that's so horrible."    

"I don't. It's just... I've told you a thousand times... I'm not fucking interested! Why don't you understand that?"    

"I understand perfectly." He smirks and places a hand on my knee. "I just don't care."    

His thumb begins to rub slow circles over the inside of my knee, and when his hand starts to slowly inch it's way up my thigh, I can't help but roll my eyes. This is getting ridiculous.    

"One drink." He repeats, and smiles as I slap his wandering hand off of my leg. I let out a loud sigh and nod reluctantly.    

I guess one drink won't kill me. And... maybe he'll see that I'm completely dull and leave me the hell alone. I doubt it, but a girl can dream, right?"    

"What'll it be?" He asks, a triumphant smile planted on his face.    

"Rum and coke." I mutter before he turns toward the bar. Within seconds, a fresh drink is placed in front of me and I nod my thanks to the bartender.    

"So..." Justin trails off as he casually leans against the bar. "You always lived in New York?"    

"Yep."    

"Are you in school or anything?"    

"Nope."    

"Come on Emma... work with me a little here."    

I almost want to laugh at the frustrated look on his face. I know I'm being mean, but hey... he asked to buy me a drink, not strike up a conversation. I'm only doing what he asked.    

I'm petty, I know.    

"So, exactly why aren't you interested in me?"    

I shrug before downing the rest of my drink in one gulp, and sliding off the bar stool.     

"Well, thanks for the drink." I smirk as his jaw damn near hits the floor.    

"Where the hell are you going?"    

"You said one drink." I shrug and hold up my empty glass.    

"So it's like that huh?"    

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" I chuckle and shake my head. He thought he had a sure thing on his hands, and I do believe I just sent his little world into a tailspin.     

I quickly make my way to the exit, quietly laughing to myself the whole way. He got his drink, what more does he want? I mean really, he got exactly what he asked for, so what the hell is his problem?    

Clearly, there is no pleasing this man.

"Lovestoned"-Justin Timberlake