{Justin}
Okay. Things really aren't going so great for me right now. It's already day two of my bet, and unfortunately, I still can't get started on this thing. Why, you ask? Because I have Elise following me around like a damn dog, that's why.
Honestly. I've been trying to get rid of the girl all morning. She's even behind me right now as I once again enter into my apartment. I can immediately hear Chloe's laughter—she always seems to be laughing when I'm not around—and then Chris, talking in some weird voice as I pass through the doorframe.
Upon reaching the living room, I announce, "I'm home." I then proceed to look on in disgust as to the fact that I have found them on the floor, Chloe giggling inside of his arms. Obviously they've been engaging in some sort of twisted wrestling match before I got here. Chris is my boy, but damn, can he please get off of my future prize here? I have a job to do, and their flirting isn't going to help me any.
I know what you're thinking—but I'm not jealous. No, I'm not. It's just that now that this idea has been planted into my head, I want it to hurry up and happen. I like things to come to me quickly and easily—that's how it usually is for me. I have a bad feeling Chloe, a.k.a. major bitch with something stuck up her ass, will be different though.
Chris looks up at us and gives a non-committal smile, greeting me and what's-her-face casually. "Hey J…Elise."
Clearly, he's not getting the 'get-the-fuck-off-of-her' signals I'm shooting at them with my eyes. I guess I'll just have to use a better tactic. And I know I'm supposed to be working on getting onto her good side here, but I think we can all agree that right now it's not the time nor place for that.
"So Chloe—I see you're already trying to get free rent around here," I quip, suggesting the obvious with a smirk and a flick of my hand in their direction.
The smile on her face immediately falls, and she looks at me like I am the scum of the earth. All right—so I admit I can be a jerk at times—but so what? I'm sure you're not perfect, either.
"Back off, J. That was uncalled for and you know it," Chris scolds me, pinning her against him. She looks like she's about ready to get up and attack me. Yeah baby, you can attack me all right—in the bedroom.
I suddenly hear Elise whining my name out, interrupting my thoughts, as I unfortunately recall that she's still with me. "Can we just go to your room?" she suggests, hopefully.
"Yeah, why don't you listen to your girl? It sounds like she at least has a brain—something you're obviously lacking."
Sweet, little Chloe and her smart remarks. That's fine though. I'll let her have this one. I'll go spend my energy getting rid of my other nuisance at the moment. After all, it won't be long—six months or less, mind you—before I've got her following me around like a dog, too.
***
{Chloe}
Damn it. Someone is here. I was just starting to get into this show, too. I reluctantly rise from the couch, making my way towards the door. I pull it open, not at all surprised to find Elise standing there, looking as perky and perfect as ever.
She is wearing a short jean skirt, and her faultless, mocha skin is glittering in the sun. I watch as she smiles at me in surprise. What the hell is up with her today?
"Hey, Chloe," she greets, sweetly. "Can I come in?"
I place my hand on my hip. "Elise—you do know that Justin isn't home right now, don't you?" I ask, carefully. I want to go back to my television show. "Sorry. I'll tell Chris to let him know you came by."
Just as I'm about to shut the door, her voice stops me. "Wait. I didn't come here to see Justin. I came here to see you," she explains, quickly.
My eyes land on hers curiously. I don't understand why the hell she would be here to see me? We've never even had a decent conversation together, let alone made visits to each other's houses to see one another. "Am I missing something?" I ask, bewildered.
"Can I come in?" she urges. "It's kinda hot out here."
I oblige, opening the door a little wider so that she can enter. I close it and allow her to follow me into the living room, where we both take a seat before I finally open up my curious mouth again. "So…"
"Listen," Elise blurts out. "I know what you're thinking. And yes—I am here for a reason. I just don't exactly know the best way to put this to you is all."
I twist my face in confusion, slowly nodding my head up and down. "Um…okay."
Elise takes a deep breath and finally announces, "I found out that Justin cheated on me."
Her voice sounds hurt, and I can't help but want to roll my eyes at her. I mean, what did she expect from an asshole like that? I also can't help but wonder why she is sharing this news with me of all people?
As I'm contemplating these things, she continues on with her confession—or whatever it is. "He thinks I don’t know, but I have my sources. I noticed something that I thought was strange the other day. And please tell me the truth about this, Chloe. I know we're not great friends…"
Not even friends, more like it.
"But, listen, I won't be angry if it's true…just…"
"What?"
She pauses, opening up her mouth and then closing it. Finally, she cautiously asks, "Are you and Justin…well, you know…involved?"
"God, no!" I immediately exclaim, disgusted by even the suggestion of it. "I don’t know where you would get that idea from. Never, ever will that happen," I explain with a shudder.
I watch as she looks at her fingernails and then gives me a nervous smile. "Actually—I was kind of hoping maybe it could happen."
What? Rewind. Did I just hear her correctly? I know she did not just say she wanted Justin and I—I can't even say it for fear of vomiting but—did she just say what I think she just said?
"Chloe. I need you to do me a huge favor. And I want you to know that if you accept my offer, I will pay you a generous amount for your help."
She did. I'm in shock. Elise-fucking-rich-ass-Johnson wants my help? What could I possibly do for her that she would actually pay me for?
"I'm lost," I reply, slowly.
Elise gives me an encouraging smile—Lord, I haven't seen the girl be so nice since the day I first met her—and nods at me. "Listen, here's the deal, alright? You're the first girl I've seen that doesn't fall for his charms, you know? I really admire you and the way that you stand up to him all the time…"
In a strange way, I'm kind of flattered by her words. But—once again—what the hell? I tentatively listen as she continues talking to me.
"Justin cheated on me, and I want him to realize that he can't get away with screwing girls over like that. You know, it's like my Daddy once said—'Elise, never let a man walk all over you'—"
I give her a strange look as she continues on with her chatting, and she laughs, nervously tossing her hair back. "Sorry—I kind of went off subject there. But anyways, what I'm trying to get at is this. You remember when I came over, and you and Chris were together? Well, I was so mad because Justin seemed to be so jealous of you two or something and not even caring about me. This was of course before I realized about his indiscretions..."
"Elise. I'm telling you. Justin and I…we are nothing. I hate him," I assure, once again. Obviously she is missing this huge detail somehow or another.
"I know that now! And that's what makes it so perfect. You hate him, but he clearly doesn't hate you!" she explains, smiling at me widely like she has just discovered a new planet or something.
"I honestly don't know where you're getting that idea, but…what is it exactly that you want from me?" I finally ask, hesitantly. All of this seems to be going nowhere, but I mean she did say that she would pay…I know, I know. That's horrible of me. But God—I could desperately use some money for my tuition, my bills…
Elise takes a deep breath and folds her hands together on top of her lap. "I want you to make him fall for you, Chloe. And hard. And when he does…I want you to crush him. I want you to make him feel miserable. I want him to feel like I did when I found out about what he did to me."
The fire in her eyes is scary, and I almost feel sorry for the girl. I'm also kind of questioning her stability here…is this normal behavior of an ex-girlfriend? Oh well, anyone stupid enough to fall for the charms of Justin Timberlake deserves some kind of pity, right?
I still don't get it though. "What makes you think that I'm the girl to do this? I'm telling you Elise, Justin hates me as much as I hate him. He's not going to fall in love with me—he doesn't even have a heart," I argue, sensibly.
Elise shakes her head, seemingly annoyed and frustrated with my response. "I saw the way he looked at you and Chris yesterday. Please, trust me with this. I'm sure if you just…changed up your style a bit…he would be all over you. I mean you're a pretty girl…" she trails off.
I don't know if that’s an insult or a compliment, but I'll take is as the latter since she's being decent to me right now. I cannot believe I’m actually thinking about going through with this. What is wrong with me?
"Okay…suppose he does…end up liking me a whole lot. What exactly do I have to do to him here?"
She gives me a pleased smile. "Like I said, you crush him. Cheat on him. Betray him. Kick him to the curb. I don't care. Just do whatever it takes to get the job done."
I bite my lip and think about this for a moment. She keeps on telling to me to crush him. But I've never done that before—I don't know how to intentionally go about crushing a man? That's so cold and heartless. I couldn't possibly do it—I mean it would just be wrong on so many different levels.
I think Elise is sensing my hesitation because she's beginning to push harder now. "You said so yourself. You hate him. He's heartless. So what is there to lose? Please…I'm willing to pay you for this," she adds, a touch of desperation in her voice.
"How much?" I finally ask, my mouth betraying my conscience.
I mean—it is Justin, after all. It's not like I would be doing this to some sweet guy who didn't deserve it. I can only imagine how many hearts that stupid boy has toyed with. And maybe Elise is right; maybe he does deserve a taste of his own medicine. I just don't think she's right about me being the one to give him that taste.
So why do I find myself accepting her offer anyways?
***
{Justin}
Alright. So I've just realized two things:
A) Since the three months that Chloe has transferred here and moved in with us, I really can't think of one fact that I know about her and/or her life. (Besides the fact that she is a major bitch, of course.)
B) I haven't been in her room since Chris last lived in it. (Before she came along, it was his room. It's the master bedroom in our three-bedroom apartment, and when she moved in, he insisted on some stupid shit about her needing to have her own bathroom since she's the only girl here.)
Anyway—I've come up with a plan. Of course it's a very bad, intrusive plan, and my conscience is of course warning me away from even going through with it. Plus, I just know something is bound to go wrong with this. But man, I need some sort of start here, and I also think this could possibly be my push in the right direction.
Chloe isn't home. I have no idea when she will be home, either. But she's been gone for a good two hours now, so hopefully it will stay that way.
Yup. That's it. I'm doing the plan.
Okay. I'm hesitantly reaching my hand out towards her doorknob now. I enter and then carefully shut the door behind me, though no on else is even in the house right now, so it doesn't really matter.
My eyes are scanning the room curiously. Yeah. This girl is a damn neat freak. I know she always likes the kitchen to be clean (I've gotten one too many of her lectures on 'getting up off of my lazy ass and doing my own dishes for once' from her to not know this), but wow…this is clean.
In contrast to all of the clothes that are scattered all over my floor and bed, hers are all hanging neatly in the closet that I just took a quick glance inside of. She has got a white desk in the corner of the room, and her laptop is resting there comfortably, along with a nice, neat stack of mail and two textbooks.
I sift through the envelopes, only to find a few bills and an unopened letter. I'm tempted to open it up and read it, but that might really get me into some major trouble with her. Normally, this wouldn't dissuade me. But I'm trying to get on her good side as of now.
Onto her CD collection. Hmm. I'm a little iffy about some of the shit she's got. Sarah Mclachlan? Beth Orton? No, no. I'll admit she has got a few good ones though. Seems like she likes R&B, a little rap, and the other unexpected genres here and there.
I am walking to her bathroom now. And once again, it's shiny and clean. Damn. No wonder she has no social life…other than Chris and school. She spends all her time alphabetically arranging her large collection of hair products. Yup, John Frieda, which comes after the Biosilk might I add, are her best buddies.
There is a bag from Sephora on her closed toilet seat. Just a bunch of unopened, boring makeup shit inside here. Ohh—some lip gloss...yeah I'll be tasting that soon—don't worry.
Wait. Did I just hear footsteps? I drop the lip gloss back into the bag and hold still for a second. Good—false alarm—I don't hear anything else. My paranoia is just getting the best of me.
Alright. Time to go back into the room again. I'm feeling like one of those people from that stupid show Room Raiders on MTV right about now. Only I don't have a spy kit. Yes. I'm pathetic.
After I spend about ten more minutes looking through all of her shit, I am coming up with a few thoughts. Okay. So here's the thorough, Justin Timberlake analysis of Chloe Marin as of now:
She cleans too much.
Wears Chanel No. 5.
Takes yoga and some sort of dance class.
Likes butterflies.
Has too many pairs of jeans.
Likes to read.
She's got a little sister.
Her ex-boyfriend is a sappy idiot.
Likes Cosmopolitan magazines.
What else do I need? Oh. Yes, I know. Must get the bra size. And then I'm out of here. I am opening up the first drawer of her dresser right now. And heck yeah, here we go…
She has got sexy underwear. Let's add that to my list. Though it's such a shame that this all goes to waste, considering she seems to be the biggest prude I ever met. I'm going to have to change that. Ahah, and finally, she is a 34 B…not exactly impressive, but it's not a huge disappointment either, I guess.
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
Someone is turning the door handle. Why didn't I hear the footsteps this time?
Damn it. This sucks.
I've been caught. Red-handed. Inside the panty drawer.
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