“I am Cookieman! And this is my sidekick, Sprinkles!” Justin said in a fake deep voice, pointing at himself with a rolling pin and then to JC. They both had flour all over their hands and faces and had towels wrapped around their necks like some sort of baking super heroes.

“Wait, I should be Cookieman,” JC said in between his laughter.

“Why? I thought of it,” Justin all but whined.

“Yes, but I’m older and, really, you’ve been my sidekick since we met,” JC pointed out. Justin gave him a confused look. “I may have been young but I wasn’t stupid. I could tell on MMC that your practically worshipped me since we met.”

“Worship is too big of a word,” Justin grumbled although grinned. “You’re my best friend, C,” he added, as if that would put an explanation on what he did and why he did them.

JC smiled as well. “I know.”

1993

Justin Timberlake, a small curly haired boy of 12, walked around the studios in awe. He couldn’t believe that he was actually there on the MMC set. It was something that he always wanted to do—entertain—but he didn’t think he’d ever get there.

He’s done a lot of things to get into the business but now…he’s actually there! It was like a dream to him. A great dream because his mother was there to experience it with him. He saw a bunch of kids running around, talking, laughing, playing ping-pong, listening to music, dancing. However, what bothered him was that he hadn’t found anyone that looked remotely close to his age. A few girls were sitting off, talking and giggling , probably catching up from the school year since MMC filmed in the summer.

Justin, biting his lip, hesitated by the door. He didn’t know who to talk to first or if they would even like him. He was about to turn and run away, beg his mom to take him back home, when the door opened quickly. He backed up and fell over his feet to avoid being based in the nose as three guys—two Caucasian, one African-American—walked in through the door, laughing.

“Sorry man, I didn’t see you there,” the tallest said with a bright white smile and a hand sticking into Justin’s face.

“It’s ok,” Justin mumbled, taking the hand and allowing the guy to pull him to his feet.

“Oh, you’re one of the new kids here,” the tall guy noted with a smile. Justin could only nod. “You’re going to love it here. Everyone gets along great and we always make every day a party.”

“Wow, way to sound like a tour guide, Josh,” the African-American said with an eye roll as the other guy laughed and punched him on the shoulder.

“Josh” laughed a little as well and shrugged. “Hey man, if you ever need anything you can always come to me, ok?” He lightly punched Justin on the shoulder and mentioned for the others to follow him.

Justin looked down at his shoes and then looked at the guys who were walking away. Before he knew it he was calling for “Josh” to come back. He paused, looked over his shoulder, said something to his friends, and walked back over to the Curly haired boy, a playful smile on his face. “JC,” he stated.

“What?” Justin blinked in confusion.

He laughed. “My name’s Josh, but here I go by JC.” He stuck out his hand, “JC Chasez.” Justin hesitantly reached out of his hand. JC laughed again. “I’m not going to pull you into a headlock or anything.”

Justin finally grasped his hand and gave it a hard shake. “Justin. Justin Timberlake.”

JC’s eyebrows rose. “Timberlake? Interesting name. No one will forget that.” He dropped Justin’s hand. “See you later, Justin.”

1995

“Guys, this is hopeless, we’re not going to find a bass singer in…three days,” Joey Fatone groaned, playing with the basketball that was in his hands. He tossed it across the room to Chris Kirkpatrick who spun it on his finger.

“We can’t give up, though,” Justin said as he ran his hand over his short curls again. He still couldn’t get over the fact that he actually convinced his mother to let him cut his hair. Now his head felt lighter. He didn’t miss the curls, they got on his nerves and he hated being made fun of for them.

“Justin, we’ve auditioned, like, every bass player in the tri-state area,” Joey exaggerated. “It’s not going to happen.

“Have we tried all of our options though?” Justin asked. He was getting desperate. If they couldn’t find a bass singer than their group wasn’t going to work and he really wanted this. He didn’t want to go back to being normal Justin Timberlake who attended high school. He wasn’t cut out for it. Sure, he got good grades and everything, but he wouldn’t be happy.

Performing made him happy.

“Ev-uh-ree-thing,” Chris stressed.

“Not everything,” JC finally spoke up. He had been silent then entire time, looking at the ceiling. The guys didn’t know if he had been thinking or sleeping with his eyes open like he did sometimes.

“What do you mean, C?” Joey asked, turning to look at the older male.

“Justin, you’re still in contact with your vocal coach, right?” JC asked.

“Yeah,” Justin replied, not getting where JC was going with it.

“Well, why don’t you just call him up and ask if he has a bass singer that he coaches? It couldn’t hurt to try, right?” JC muttered, looking at the ground. The others knew that it was a sign of JC’s embarrassment/shyness. Sometimes he wasn’t as confident as he looked, especially when they were silent and looking at him like they were.

“JC, that is a great idea!” Justin said happily, diving for the phone.

“Why didn’t you speak up, I don’t know, four hours ago?” Chris asked with a laugh, throwing the basketball at him.

JC caught it and shrugged, smiling.

1998

JC groaned. He could feel that he was halfway between being awake and being asleep, which meant he was about to wake up. He gripped his pillow tighter and forced his eyes shut. He was tired. They went out partying last night and he could feel the effects of it. He didn’t get drunk, he stood around watching as Joey and Chris got drunk. He took a few sips to get the buzz but he kept his head on straight the entire night, enough to check on Joey and Chris throughout the night, giving them wet towels and sitting with them as they retched until he felt they were fine enough to go to sleep himself.

He smiled despite wanting to sleep. He was affectionately given the nickname Daddy C by the group because he was like a father, always checking on everyone to make sure they were ok and had what they needed. He did that towards Justin the most but he didn’t know if it was because he knew Justin the longest or has known him since he was a kid.

The sudden sound of the phone ringing nearly made him have a heart attack. Grumbling, he grabbed the phone. “Hullo?” he mumbled.

“C! It’s J! Open your door!” Justin yelled into the line before hanging up.

JC stared at the phone before putting it back and forcing himself out of bed. “Why in the world would Justin call me to tell me to open the door?” He groaned to himself, rubbing his face to wake himself up. He finally reached the door and pulled it open. Justin ran into the room as if he were shot out of a cannon.

“C! C! C!” Justin yelled, jumping on JC’s bed. “You won’t believe it! This is the best news ever!”

“You mind telling me what it is, you jumping bean?” JC grumbled.

Justin jumped off the bed and grabbed JC’s shoulder’s, shaking him. “Jace! Get this, our album…went DIAMOND!” Justin shouted, his eyes sparkling in happiness. “We sold over 10 million albums! 10 MILLION! We’ve made it, C, we’ve made it!”

JC was stunned.

2000

“I can’t believe our CD is finally out,” Justin sighed happily, lying down on the couch of the tour bus. “It’s about damn time.”

“I know,” Lance agreed. “I wonder how well we did,” he blurted out.

The bus fell silent. The boys were in a little battle with the Backstreet Boys, currently to see who sells the most sophomore albums. The Backstreet Boys Millenium, released the year before sold over 1 million copies in its first week. The guys were nervous about how they would stand. At first they didn’t care but when Johnny talked about their numbers and their popularity it was hard not to care.

“I guess we should call Johnny and see how it went,” Joey finally broke the silence.

“Put it on speaker,” JC said, resting his forehead on the small kitchen table. Chris tugged at his braids and Lance bit his lip as Joey called their manager.

“Hey Johnny,” Joey greeted him as soon as their manager picked up. “The guys are here too.”

“Hey guys,” Johnny greeted them. “Well, I think I know why you’re calling. You want to know how you stand.”

“Just give it to us straight, man,” Chris practically yelled as Lance shushed him. “Are we selling 1 million or what?”

Johnny sighed, amping up their nervousness. “Well, we went over the records and it looks like you’re going to sell 1 million,” he replied.

Justin made a face.

“That’s good, right? It’s 1 million whether or not we beat their record,” JC said from the table.

“Yeah,” Justin grumbled.

“Wait, 1 million in what? A week? Two weeks?” Joey asked.

Johnny paused. “1 million copies…in one day!”

“WHAT!?” they all yelled, their hearts pounding, smiles forming on their faces.

“Yeah in one day—today, the release day—over 1 million copies were sold. You’re looking at getting over 2 million by the end of the week!”

Justin could barely react before JC dove over the table and landed on him. The two fell to the floor and the others dog piled the two, laughing and screaming in joy.

2002

JC looked up when there was a knock on his hotel room door. Putting a marker in the book he was reading he walked over to the door and opened it to see Justin. Right off the bat he knew something was wrong. He ushered Justin inside. Justin sat in a chair by the bed as JC sat on the edge of it.

“You’re going to explode if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” JC commented.

“Ok,” Justin sighed, wiping his sweaty palms on his legs. “We’re taking a break soon—a much needed break—and um, I just wanted to know something.”

JC lifted his eyebrows. “What?”

“Well, I was…kinda thinking of doing a, um, a solo album,” Justin said slowly, gauging JC’s reaction. His face remained blank. “It’s just something I want to do for fun. I don’t even know if I’m going to release it,” he continued quickly. “It’s just something I want to do. I just wanted to know, if uh—“

“If I supported you?” JC asked. Justin nodded. “Of course I support you, J. I supported you when you did that movie. I supported you when you decided to go public with Brit. When haven’t I supported you? I’m not just going to stop because you want to do something different from the group.”

Justin let out a big sigh of relief. “Thanks man.

“Have you told the others yet?”

“Not yet, I wanted to tell you first.”

JC smiled. “I’m glad you did. I’ll always be here for you, J. You know that.”

“I know, thanks man, you’re the best.”

2004

“Hey J,” JC greeted Justin once he picked up the phone.

“C! I am so sorry about what happened! I didn’t mean for this whole…thing to mess up your halftime show!” Justin rambled.

JC laughed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It’s not your fault, J, essentially it’s mine. It was my idea to perform the song and release it as a single.”

“But still, they shouldn’t shut you down because of my mistake.”

“Does it sound like I’m blaming you J?”

“No.”

“Right, because it’s not your fault and there’s now where to stick the blame. I’m not just going to turn on my best friend.” Justin was silent. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I just didn’t expect you to still call me your best friend after all that’s happened.”

“All what?”

“You know. Lance, Chris, and Joey may not say it to my face but I know that they’re frustrated that *NSYNC isn’t back together and I know they think it’s my fault.” JC hated hearing Justin saying stuff like that. He sounded like he was about to beat himself up or something. “But, I mean, it’s not my fault that my CD is doing so well.”

“They don’t blame you J.”

“But they’re mad.”

“It’s understandable.”

“And you’re a little mad too, aren’t you?”

“Mad’s not the right word,” JC admitted. “I’m more…anxious to get back but it’s all about timing, right? I can wait.”

“Honest?”

“Honest. I don’t want to take away your dream from you.”

“Thanks man.”

“No problem.”

2010

“I can’t believe I’m 34,” JC groaned. “I always thought by now I’d be married and have kids. I’m almost halfway to forty and I don’t even have a girlfriend.”

“Don’t sweat it, C, you still have time,” Lance said with a smile. “Just be glad you’re not Chris. He’s almost half a century old and he still hasn’t bounced back from Dani.”

“Don’t even mention that forbidden name,” Chris joked.

“How’s Kloey?” JC asked Joey.

“She’s doing great. She’s smiling all the time and Briahna loves to help out,” Joey replied, spinning the beer bottle that was in his hand before taking a sip. “I always thought Bri would be jealous of having someone else around but she loves Kloey.”

JC nodded and looked at his watch. Lance caught his movement. “Should we wait? He never even gave a definite answer.”

JC nodded. “I know Justin, he’ll be here.”

“Our reservation is in…fifteen minutes, I think we should just go and have him meet us there,” Chris suggested.

JC wanted to wait but he understood why the others were antsy and nodded. “Ok, let’s go.” He grabbed his keys off of the little table by the front door and opened it to get a fist to the forehead. “There’s a doorbell for a reason,” JC pointed out, rubbing his forehead.

“Sorry C,” Justin apologized sheepishly. “There was awful traffic. I would’ve been here earlier…hi,” he said, suddenly shy, noticing the others.

“Hey Curly. It’s about time you got here. What? You Youngins don’t know the meaning of being on time?” Chris joked.

Justin sighed and let out a smile. “I told you man, traffic. But I guess you Old Timers aren’t patient. I mean, your life is flashing by you.”

Chris shook his head and moved past him out the door. Lance and Joey beamed at Justin before following Chris. “I told you everything would be fine,” JC stated.

“How’s it feel being 34?” Justin asked.

JC shrugged. “It’s the same really. I just thought my life would be a little different.”

“You’ll find the right girl when she comes along,” Justin said, lightly hitting JC on the arm. “COokieman knows these things,” he joked.

JC laughed. “Last I checked I was Cookieman and you were Sprinkles,” he stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind himself.

“No way! I came up with the name, I’m Cookieman.”

“Yes, but you were always my sidekick.”

“No I was not!”

“Yes you were. You followed me around all the time when we were on MMC.”

“So what? That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Surrrreee.” JC rolled his eyes and lightly punched Justin arm the arm. “Thanks for coming man.”

Justin grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it. Honest.”