Los Angeles, CA.  April 27th, 2009. 11:34 PM. 

The past month had been surreal. It had been spent in two places; the studio and home. Exactly one month ago tomorrow, Justin Timberlake became a single man, and by no fault or choice of his own. In the four weeks that followed that day, he was pretty sure he had drank his weight in alcohol, ate his weight in junk food, and made approximately 210 excuses to everyone and anyone as to why he couldn't go out, hang out, or get out of his house. In reality, he just didn't want to, and no excuse could convince anyone otherwise. 

And why not? I'm allowed to be heartbroken. She cheated on me. She didn't even give me a choice. A chance. Why not? What the hell did I do to deserve this?

Justin's thoughts raced as he laid in bed. It had become a nightly ritual; lay down, toss and turn, think, think, think, convince himself not to think anymore, toss, turn, think the same thoughts over again, and then sleep. Maybe. If he was lucky. But tonight was turning out to be one of those good nights; he had only tossed and turned for about an hour, and he could feel sleep coming on. She wasn't on his mind as much as she usually was, and that meant falling asleep faster, so long as he could keep her off his mind. Ashley Nuenez was his world, until four weeks ago.

Damn it. Don't think about it, don't think about her. Just sleep. Sleep… sleep....

And then finally, there it was. Sleep. His muscles relaxed, his breathing slowed, and the first images of a dream crept into his head...

Bzzz… Bzzz… Bzzz… 

"Are you serious?" Justin groans, barely opening his eyes as the onset of a headache greets him. He reaches out to the buzzing iPhone on his bedside table, glancing at the number.

732-555-4753.

"Fucking hell…" He presses down on the phone's off button, ignoring the call and silencing the phone. Flipping over his pillow and readjusting himself, he closes his eyes and lays his head back down, willing the headache to go away. 

Bzzz.

"COME ON." He grabs the phone and stares at it, reading the message on his screen.

"Jenn said you'd be coming tonight! Disappointed I didn't see you. You owe me a beer. The strawberry kind."

"Strawberry kind? Who the hell drinks strawberry beer? Damn it!" Justin holds down the off switch, turning his phone off. He angrily flips himself over onto his side and holds his eyes shut, the voices in his head talking faster and faster.

Sleep. Sleep now. Sleep for hours and hours. I wonder if that number was someone who knew Ashley? I don't care. I don't care! What if that was Ashley? What if that was her new number? She has a friend named Jennifer. Was there an event tonight? Ashley doesn't drink beer…  what area code was that? Goddamn it, Justin. SLEEP!

He turns onto his back, staring at the large, dark wood ceiling fan above his head. He wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.