In the six days that I have been in Los Angeles, I haven't got to enjoy one moment of it. I have been in the design studio from sun up to sun down. The great news to come out of working every moment of daylight is the first eight designs were sent off to the manufacture this morning. It was an accomplishment, not all eight pair will work for the line and may not come out at all but there was an official start to the process. I walked out of that office with a smile on my face.

Walking in Los Angeles was nothing like walking the streets of Manhattan. Everyone walks in Manhattan, here everyone drives their hundred thousand dollar Mercedes' and Range Rover's to go three blocks. It didn't make much sense to me. Broadway here was not the Broadway I was used to in NYC.

The sun beating down on my almost bare shoulders was something I could sure get used to, the twenty cameras shoved in my face as I walked down the street, was something else I will never get used to. I tried to avoid them as much as I could but sometimes it's overwhelming and I want to walk into a store without the fuss of them being in the way. I felt worse for the innocent people who have to deal with the mess that I'm causing. They haven't chosen this and I sorta have.

I stumbled into a music store on Broadway hoping to find something to entertain me for the night. The rows and rows of CD's lined in never ending rows caught my attention. Specifically a blue industrial looking cover, with a man in a black hat tipped sideways.

Above the section of CD's a sign read:

Bring Sexy Back into you collection.

I chuckled to myself as the sales person walks over to me. "Ma'am is there something I can help you find?"

"Actually... can I get all the albums that include Justin Timberlake?" I asked shyly. It felt weird asking for albums with your boyfriends face on it.

He laughed, gave me a slanted eye look, "Do you realize how many album's that is?"

"I'm sorry I don't, how many?"

"Just off the top of my head, roughly thirty albums... maybe forty. I would have to do research to get them all."

"There's no way he has recorded forty albums. He isn't that old." I said that thanking god that he wasn't standing there when I break out and ‘old' comment.

"Oh you are just wanting full length albums of his..." he shuffles through the rack.

"Well, I guess... yea. Is there seriously that many albums that he is on?"

"Oh yes. He has down some amazing production for lots of artists. He is an amazing producer."

I smile came over my face. "Oh..."

He takes one out at a time, "Do you not know who Justin Timberlake is?"

"Well yes... I know him personally, just not professionally."

"Umm ok..." He was confused; instead of asking to explain that comment he picks up the stack of CD's. "Well these are all the CD's. I have some DVD's of him as well if you're looking for some research material."

"Sure. I will take whatever you have."

The last straw of the day came about twenty seconds after I walked out of that music store. Ok not literally but hearing strangers scream questions at me was not something new, but when the questions are not being answered some photographers get angry. And with anger comes the violent side of some people.

Just steps away from my car the man asks, "How does living in Justin's coat tails feel? I hope it's worth betraying your family. I hope that fool is worth the cost." I rage inside of me wanted to hurt him, the rage was building every step I took. I didn't say a word, I continued to walk. My face very quickly became a shade of deep red. I was so angry. I turned the corner seeing Justin's car in the view now.

The pack of photographers close in on me. They wanted closer shots and wanted questions answered but I wasn't giving them anything. "Bitch, you could answer my questions. I know you can hear me." I closed my eyes, hoping he would shut up but before I knew it I felt a jolt of pressure and the hot cement brick against my body. My arm had taken on the wall and I instantly felt the pain run through it. I turned back quickly to see which one of those guys had shoved me into the wall, but he was gone. He had bolted so fast. I could see him, khaki shorts and blue t-shirt fading in the distance. One of the gentlemen that had been following me all day helps pick up the bag of scattered CD's on the ground. "I'm so sorry..." he kept saying. It wasn't his fault. I wasn't sure why he kept apologizing. "Are you okay?" he asked as he handed the bag to me.

"I'm fine." I was still shocked this had all just happened. I was stunned.

"As long as you're ok, if your hurt you should-"

I cut him off, "I'm fine. I just want to leave."

I felt the throbbing in my arm but I knew it wasn't broken. If anything there would be a nice bruise there tomorrow. Great. I thought. How am I going to explain that to Justin? I climb in the car, look down and see the redness starting to surround my entire lower half of my arm. I take my hand and rub over the bones to make sure there was nothing broke. I got lucky I guess. It could have been worse.

I contemplated calling Justin and making light of the situation, but I knew that if he knew what happened today it would just piss him off. He wasn't the biggest fan of the paparazzi following him around, let alone them following me around. He would be home tomorrow and I would deal with the issue then. I popped in one of his CD's on the ride home, listening to it diligently.

When I pulled into the driveway I see a car that I don't know, not that I know anyone's cars here but I wasn't expecting any visitors. Justin had said nothing to me about anyone stopping at the house. I climb out of the car and walk up to the door. I open it to find a man about my height standing in the entry way with his back towards me, putting something into the closet.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

He turns and I finally see his face, "I could ask you the same question." His dark hair and dark piercing eyes looked back at me. "I take it your Bells?"

"Yes. And you are?"

He extends his hand out towards me, "Trace. It's nice to officially meet you, finally."

His ‘friend' Trace, I laugh at my own thoughts. "I met you already actually... at the dinner... where I met Justin."

"Oh yes, I remember. We just never actually got to talk and meet each other."

"That's true. My father threw a fit and I left the table. Sorry about that."

"Oh honey, don't make excuses for him. He was the disrespectful one. He shouldn't speak to you like that."

"We may actually get along." I laughed. I wanted the change the subject of my father. "I'm going to make something to eat, you want join me? That is if you don't have plans or anything."

"Sure, I can hang out for a little while. I'm done for the day after I unload the boxes out of my car for Justin."

"Oh work stuff?" I questioned. Everything seemed to revolve around work in Justin's life.

"Yes. It's the samples of the new line. He is supposed to review them when he gets home tomorrow."

"Do you need help?"

"No, I can handle it." He turned back towards the door.

"Good, because I wasn't going to help you anyways." I laughed and walked towards the kitchen.

The kitchen which had been completely remodeled was spacious and open. Each piece of dark mahogany wood detail in this room was perfectly placed throughout the room. Opening the stainless steel fridge to find stocked shelves, I had bought groceries when I first arrived in L.A but I didn't have the chance to cook anything. I have survived on salads from the Ivy that were delivered to the office for the last week. I was going to eat a high calorie, high fat, high carbohydrate meal tonight. I had planned on eating everything I could handle in one sitting.

I placed a newly purchased CD in player in the kitchen. Filling the space with the soothing voice I wanted to hear so badly. I pulled out a couple steaks that I had been saving for when Justin got home to cook. I was craving the idea of a steak so I would have to pick up more from the butcher in the morning. I fired up the grill in the kitchen, getting it nice and hot. The steaks were prepped and ready to be cooked already in the package, which made things a lot easier for me to handle.

All the years I spent secretively in the kitchen watching our butler cook, served a purpose. I will never be able to cook like he did but he taught me things I would have never learned without him. My mother didn't cook, she never had to. I hid many times in the pantry next to the kitchen from my mother. If she would have known I was in there, it would have been the disgrace to the family somehow. Standing in this kitchen freely today felt amazing. For the first time being in the kitchen cooking wasn't breaking a rule.

I danced freely around the kitchen to the beat of the song, kicking off my heels near the island. The simple idea of future sex love sounds made my body want him even more. His wording was genius. He knew exactly what to say to make every single sexual. I removed everything else I needed from the refrigerator, gathering it up in my arms, placing one by one on the counter. With free hands, I graze my hands on the counter, closing my eyes I almost put myself back into the moment...  

His long thick eyelashes grazing against mine.... his face curving to make perfect access to my mouth, his tongue started to work a slow circular motion around mine, deepening the kiss. His hands ever so slightly grab a hold of my ass and pushing me closer to the edge of the counter, never parting his lips with mine. His lips felt like fireworks on the Fourth of July...

I needed to feel him.

My hand was down and my hands were still pressed against the counter when Trace walks in the kitchen. "Bells, are you okay?"  he asked.

"Yes." I said quickly, snapping out of my thoughts, standing up straight. "Just remembering... something." I walk over to the sink and wash my hands.

"Oh. I don't think I want to know" He flips his head towards the music playing in the background. "Is that.... That Justin's CD..."

"Yes! I went to this music store this morning on Broadway and found all of his albums! They are really great." I sounded like a teeny who just purchased the brand new record the day it came out after waiting five long years for new music.

He stared at me, I was a little nervous at what he was thinking about. "He wasn't lying.... He said you had no clue who ‘Justin Timberlake' was."

"I didn't. I'm actually a fan of the music now. The whole, green person caught me off guard on the last album but damn his lyrics are sexual explicit and I love it." My eyes lit up.

He shakes his head. "I thought at first that you were lying about it. But you're serious."

"I have no reason to lie." I placed the freshly cut potatoes in the sink, turning the water on.

"Well that's a great thing because I think he really loves you and I don't know if I could handle another Jessica or Britney is his life."

I turned back to him, "Who?"

He laughs at me, "This is something I have to get used to. Normally everyone that comes in contact with him knows everything about him already. Fact or fiction they already know."

"Oh well sorry I don't know who either of those people are."

"Those are two of his ex's."

"I take it they weren't so good for him."

"I will just say, put in the Justified album and listen to the track called ‘Never Again' That will explain it."

"The one with the blue cover?" I nodded my head, and made a mental note.

He laughs again, "Yes, the one with the blue cover."

I punched him in the shoulder, "Don't make fun. That's not nice."

"It is funny actually."

                I reached over to grab the first steak, "How do you like your steak?"

"Med rare." He answered, before grabbing my arm gently, pulling it up for him to see. "What is this from?" he got defensive.

I shook my arm loose. "Nothing. No big deal."

"That's a serious bruise for it to be nothing."

"Trace, seriously... no big deal. Wrong place, wrong time."

"I thought you had no reason to lie." He said cocky.

I dropped my head. Shit. I didn't want to lie about this. It was stupid, pointless and would cause an enormous issue I didn't want to deal with. "Someone bumped into me today."

"Bumped into you hell, it looks like someone slammed you against the wall."

"Something like that." I dropped his steak on the grill, watching it instead of looking up at him.

"Did something happen today that I should know about?"

"No. Drop it please."

"Being a part of Justin's life can be difficult sometimes. Especially being his girlfriend. People are constantly wanting information and some crazy chicks want to hurt you simply because you're with him and they aren't. I can help if you need me to."

"Everything's fine. I promise. It wasn't a crazy fan."

His face took a different demeanor. "Paparazzi?"

I kept quiet, turning his steak to the other side.

"Bells, you have to tell someone when things like this happen. They can't take control."

I stared at the steaks on the grill. "It's overwhelming. There are people shoving a camera in my face every moment I step out of the house. They scream some the rudest things I have ever heard at me..."

"They are trying to piss you off. They want the money shot. Unfortunately you have to try and ignore them."

"I'm trying. I tried. I thought it was going to be easier than it is."

"I don't want to see Justin loose you over this. Because trust me, if he didn't have to deal with this part of being in the industry and continue to make music he would choose that in a heartbeat. He loves you." A smile on his face lightens up the tense look he had on his face. "That man is head of heels, madly in love with you."

Hearing those words come out of Justin's best friend's mouth and for him to mean every word he was saying sent tingles through my body.

Trace left shortly after dinner. I could see why Justin has been best friends with him for so long. He was a genuinely sweet person. He seemed to care about everyone he came in contact with. Even though that couldn't be the greatest, I'm sure he has been used a time or two.

I popped one of the DVD's I had picked up today and crawled up on the couch. The title of the movie made me not want to even watch. I was never a fan of snakes and the idea of them made my skin crawl. Taking my chances and trusting the opinion of that sales clerk this morning I chose the play movie option and relax.

My jaw drops, causing myself to sit up and take notice at the screen as I watch the love of my life on the screen in a way I have seen him so many times. That seductive look in his eyes, those massive arms holding you down, that force that's within him... Just like that the split second of that moment was over.

"Holy hell... that was hot" was all I could manage to say. I was wishing that scene was a little longer. That is beyond weird to even think about. That was my man on the TV screen with another woman, in bed, having really hot sex... but it didn't make me jealous at all. I couldn't be normal. There had to be something wrong with me.

I rewind back to the scene to play it again. I had to make sure that I wasn't having hallucinations and imagined that entire scene.