Three Days Later

I’m on my way back home to Los Angle-less from Ontario, where I was visiting Cameron on set for the past two days. If there is one thing and one thing only, that I know I love, is private planes. I’m lounging back, relaxing and there isn’t anyone around. I can’t hear anyone trying to whisper but not succeeding, that yes indeed it is Justin Timberlake sitting in front of them. It’s great!

Physically, I’m a bit sore but I’m anxious to get home. Sadly, I missed my dogs the most but I’m anxious for other reasons, like for example; getting into the studio. Tim should be expecting me shortly after I arrive. He called me yesterday to give me some pretty awesome news. He talked to the record label and told them that he would pursue his own album. So while in the beginning stages of recoding and arranging mine, he’s decided that he wants to do his own thing. I’m excited for him and I’m even more excited that he’s asked me to work on it with him, as well. I’m flattered that he has asked for my input and I’m looking forward to it, like I said.

My time with Cameron was what she would call, gnarly and awesome. She’s such a California Surfer Chick, it’s cute.  We made up or should I say, she forgave me for being a dick and all that shit. I plan on going back next week when she has another break. She’d just received a package from MTV while I was there and we spent an entire afternoon watching video footage from when we went to Africa. We went shopping for hours, buying things that neither of us needed for ourselves. I bought my mother a thousand things she didn’t need either. We ate at different well-known Canadian restaurants. I got murdered at the gym by Cameron’s personal trainer, which is why I’m sore. That woman was a slave driver. I guess it’s why Cameron looks the way she does. I’ll stick with Jason, my own trainer, thank you very much.  And after spending what should have been a good few days off with my girlfriend, whom I love, I was completely and utterly BORED. What is wrong with me?

I’m actually more excited to get back to the studio than to actually go back to Ontario next week. I’m a piece of shit, I know.

Mike is waiting at LAX because Eric decided to take a commercial flight to Maryland, for what? I don’t know and I don‘t care. I’m glad to see Mike, though because a group of kids on some type of field trip are crowding the gate that I exit out of. Unfortunately, I AM recognized and a few girls yell my name. I smile and keep it moving in front of Mike. My name is still being called by the girls and I turn briefly to wave goodbye and a few flashes go off. Gotta love tourists! I have to try to be semi-decent to these freaks because I do have an album coming out soon and it’s in my best interest. That of course is a strict recommendation from Johnny and the bitch from hell.

The mere thought of this woman brings chills to my skin. Like when Rachel called me today to remind me that I had a meeting at the WEG offices tomorrow. Annoyed wouldn’t necessarily describe my response and I’m wondering what the hell Ms. Martinez wants with me now. I’m sure I’ll be enlightened tomorrow as to why I’m needed in the office when I should be recording, another strict recommendation. We’ll see what kind of bullshit she’s up to now, and it‘s not like I give a damn what she says anyway.

Rachel’s home when I get there and she’s just finishing feeding the dogs. Thank god, cause I didn’t want to have to do it. She’s tells me she’s going to some seminar bullshit that Trace signed her up for and she’s gone within fifteen minutes of my arrival. Trace is nowhere to be found which is fine by me. I’m sure he’s still trying to save that shitty ass relationship he has gotten himself into.

I want to take a quick shower and head over to the studio in an hour, so my playing session with the dogs doesn‘t last very long. The dogs follow me around excitedly while I take something out from my closet to put on. The choice isn’t hard by any means. I take a William Rast t-shirt from the stack on my sofa, some jeans from the closet and a pair of sneakers, from the shoe closet, to match the t-shirt. I’m set.

Mike had to do some shit with his wife, so he doesn’t ride with me to the studio.  What is up with these bodyguards today? No one is available? I mean I usually go to the studio by myself anyway because I don’t have a set time to leave, but still. I could be there two hours or I could be there for fourteen. It all depends on the vibe, I guess.

When I arrive at the studio, I run into Missy and she’s all smiles like always. We shoot the shit for a few minutes before she tells me she better get to the airport. Inside, the music from the studio is blaring and there’s about a dozen heads in there. I’m hoping some of these people clear out before we start recording. I hate big crowds in my comfort zone. It makes it not comfortable, if you know what I mean. As if they read my mind, about seven guys I know from being around Tim, get up and leave. They all stop at the door to give me a pound and tell me what Tim is doing is the best shit he’s ever done. I’m pumped!

I don’t see Tim anywhere in the studio when I set my keys down. I know he’s in here somewhere because I saw his car outside and he drives himself everywhere in LA. I take a seat on one of the producer’s chair and start a conversation with one of the A&R guys that are always around and start up a conversation about the track that is playing.

“The man of the hour!” I hear Tim say from behind me with a few added beat box sounds. I turn around, still in my chair to greet him and the smile that was on my face disappears.

Tim is indeed behind me but he’s not alone. He’s smiling from cheek to cheek and his arm is around Ms. Martinez’ waist in a friendly embrace. What the hell is she doing here? What the hell is she doing with Tim? When the hell did they meet? What the hell?

“What’s going on my brotha from anotha motha?” Tim asks before hitting my back with his hand in greeting. “You didn’t tell me you knew V, man!” I look at her and she smirks at me and I want to slap her. She hasn’t even said hello. The bitch! I mean I haven’t either but fuck that! This is MY territory here. What the hell is she doing here?

“You never told me you knew her either man.” I shrug at Tim and turn my back to this bitch in the process. “This shit is hot,” I’m referring to the track, of course.

“We gonna work on that tonight,” Tim says. “Whatcha think, Baby Girl? Yay or Nay?”

“Sounds good,” she says and smiles at him. She looks different today and I don’t really know what the hell it is. It’s not because she’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Oh well never mind, I know what it is. She’s actually smiling and not that bullshit fake ass smile she gives everyone. She puts her arm around Tim’s shoulder as best as she could, since Tim is huge and hugs him to her side. They seem close. Eww. “It always does.”

“Girl, I know!” Tim says arrogantly and laughs. I laugh too because it’s a personal inside joke between him and I. We know we’re good!

“You better stop teaching all these artist you work with, all that arrogant attitude, Tim. It’s not getting them anywhere,” she says and she actually has the audacity to look at me as she says it. Can I hit her? Would my mom be ashamed is I turned around and snuffed her? Like would all the people in the room think I’m the biggest asshole in the world? I mean cause she’s asking for it. Who’s with me?

“Who you talking about? Justin?” Tim asks as he takes a seat next to me. I’m trying to ignore their conversation but Tim slaps my back for my attention. “Justin’s the most talented and devoted person I’ve ever worked with. He has the up most right to be arrogant. Right, J?”

“You stupid, man.” I say with a laugh. “Speaking of arrogant. How do you know umm, what was it? Baby Girl?” I ask and I look at her with the same fake as smirk she gives me all the time. She ain’t nobody’s baby girl. Whatever.

“Ohh, watch yourself, man. She’ll make it sting!” Tim says in a serious tone before laughing it up with her. She’s laughing! At me? I hate her!

“It’s okay, Tim. Mr. Timberlake and I haven’t gotten off on the right foot. He’s working on it though. Right Mr. Timberlake?” I’m working on it? Bitch! You better act like you know!

“I’ve known Vanessa for years. Where did we meet? I forget,” Tim asks her and he looks really baffled.

“It was at one of Diddy’s white parties at the Hamptons. Every time I see you I have to tell you that. Get it together, brotha!” Did she just use some type of slang? Let me find out. Who the hell is this person, wearing jeans and dare I say, a t-shirt? I didn’t think she owned one.

“You know Diddy?” I ask and I don’t mean to sound as surprised as I am. Tim chuckles and this bitch is looking at me like she’s bored. Seen that already, Ms. Martinez. Change it up! “I didn’t know you were so into the music scene.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Mr. Timberlake,” she says and walks her tall plump ass to the couch to grab her bag. So what? Whatever, so she has a nice ass. I like a lot of junk in my truck, fucking sue me. “Anyway, I have to go do something quick, but I’ll be back, Tim. Did you want anything? Food? Steroids?”

“Keep making the jokes, Baby Girl,” Tim says pointing at her with a smile. He actually likes this woman because Tim doesn’t associate much with people. It took me about six months of seeing him repeatedly for him to actually warm up to me. “I don’t need anything, thank you though. Justin?”

“I should be back in a little bit,” she says before I even answer if I needed anything. See, now I want something. Lots of stuff. Like, umm….

“Yeah, I’d like something,” I say as she’s heading out the door. She turns to look at me and that bored expression is on her face again. Bitch! “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. Can you pick me up some Tea? From a Starbucks. No sugar, lots of honey. A bag of strawberry Twistlers and some Runts. Two room temperature bottled waters. And a pack of Orbit gum? Bubble Mint flavor. Thanks, Vanessa,” I turn my chair around and occupy myself with the sound board.

“I didn’t realize Ms. Bomar was with you, Mr. Timberlake. Is she around? Because she should be the one you should be giving your list to,” she says this and Tim apparently thinks it’s funny because he’s laughing it up again. Traitor! I turn to tell her to get the shit I asked for and to fuck herself in the process but she’s gone.

Tim goes on and on about how tough she is for about half an hour. This wasn’t what I had in mind when I came here. He tells me that she’s really a sweetheart. Yeah okay, Tim! Insert sarcasm here. He’s raving and ranting about how good she is at what she does and all this bullshit and I’m wondering if the world has been taken over by this broad. She ain’t shit!

An hour after fucking around in the studio, Tim lets me listen to a track that he’d been working on. He tells me he’s going to have Dr. Dre and Missy in it and that he’d like me to do the hook for it. He gives me the concept of the song and no matter how much I try to concentrate, I can’t. Where the hell did she go? I mean it’s none of my fucking business where this bitch goes but I’m just curious.

I’m getting ready to go into the booth and I’m halfway there when she walks into the studio. I try not to look at her but whatever, she’s the only female in the room. Who the fuck else am I supposed to look at? She walks in carrying two large boxes of pizza and a plastic bag in her right hand. Tim and two other guys get up to help her and she’s relieved of her shit in a matter of seconds. Gee, she’s just a chick! She ain’t crippled.

I turn and go into the booth and to warm up I do a few seconds of beat boxing, while putting my headset on. I can still see everyone in the studio and Tim is already at the board. It’s show time! I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going to come out of my mouth, but I don’t write anything down either. I tell Tim to play the track where the hook should be inserted. It’s a hot track and I’m vibing to it. I look past the glass that separates me from the studio and I can’t help but glance to the area where she is. I’m not looking at her, I swear.

She’s talking to Tim’s cousin who’s sitting on the couch. He’s practically drooling and he says something that makes her laugh. She laughed! Like straight out laughed. She throws her head back and she’s laughing like he was the fucking greatest thing that ever lived. She’s fucking revolting, I swear.

“You ready?” I say into the mic and suddenly she stops laughing long enough to actually pay attention to what I’m doing. She’s probably trying to figure out how she can ruin this shit for me. I want her dead!

“You tell me,” Tim says and he lets out a howl in tribute to my greatness. Hey, he said it, not me.

“Play that shit then,” I say with a laugh and the track plays in my ears. When the hook part comes up, something takes over me. It’s something I can’t explain. It’s what brought Cry Me A River out. It’s what brought Take Me Now. It’s the chemistry that Tim and I have. It’s what Pharell and I had. It’s me in the studio. “Bounce,” I say in a low voice.

Everyone in the studio is paying attention and I couldn’t tell you where the rest of that hook came from but it comes out, like I’ve been writing it for years. “I got the remedy, it's you on me and me on you,” I keep singing and god damnit, I can’t keep my eyes off her. Tim actually looks back at her, she’s talking to his cousin again, and then he turns back around to face me. He has a fucking smile on his face and I know what he’s thinking. Not!

I keep going over and over the hook until I get it the way that I want it. Then Tim goes over it and over it until it’s the way he wants it. For three hours, apparently. And I only know this because Cruela Deville has decided to mention it.

“Alright, Tim! Three hours of your greatness was enough for me,” she says with a laugh, yawning. Does she think she’s cute? I think not. What I do think is that she needs to stop fucking laughing like she‘s, well ummm cute or something. “It was nice running into you again,” she gives him a hug and I’m shocked, a kiss on the lips! What the fuck was that for!? I’m flabbergasted! On the lips? Huh?

“If I would have known you were going to be here I would have brought my wings,” Tim jokes and I’m confused. If she wasn’t here visiting him, why the fuck was she here? Was she here for me? Oh, hell naw! I didn’t invite her here.

“Boy, you know damn well you don’t have any wings,” she laughs again and grabs her bag from the couch. A Coach bag if I may add. Someone’s PAID! I’ve been sitting by the booth, staying away from her the entire time. And then she tells Tim and his cousin to call her. What!? “Call me,” and she hugs Tim again. What’s with all the hugs?

“I will. See you around, V,” Tim says with a wave before turning to the sound board again. Tim’s cousin waves at her and when she turns toward the door I see him looking at her ass. Pervert!

“Wait!” I say when she’s about to walk out of the studio. Did she say goodnight to me? I didn’t hear her. And I do know she said goodnight to Tim’s cousin who was still sitting his lazy ass down on the couch. She turns and looks at me as if she were annoyed. Don’t even go there, bitch! “I thought you were here visiting Tim.”

“Ahh, there you go thinking again, Mr. Timberlake,” she smiles and damn if I don’t wish she would smile like she means it. “I did tell you I was your new shadow, didn’t I?”

“This isn’t one of my recording sessions,” I say and she shakes her head. What does she know? Nothing.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” she says and walks out of the studio. Did she just really leave me hanging like that? Oh, fucking hell naw!

“I’ll be back, Tim,” I say and walk out of the studio behind her. She’s at the end of the hallway when I catch up to her. “Do you normally dress like that when you’re working?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Timberlake. Did I offend you with my jeans and t-shirt?” She’s being sarcastic, so I know not to say shit. “The way I dress is quite frankly none of your business. Nor does it affect my job in any way,” she keeps walking away. She’s so rude!

“So is flirting with Tim’s cousin, your way of working?” she stops walking and I can tell that comment fucked with her because her shoulders stiffened.

“Excuse me?” she asks turning to face me. We are standing in the middle of a parking lot and apparently next to her car. It’s a convertible Mercedes Benz and I look at it quickly. Nice!

“You say you were here working, as my shadow, as you put it. So why were you flirting the entire time? Is that part of your job description?”

“Are you a jealous person, Mr. Timberlake?” she walks over to me, her hands are at her hips. She walks like a fucking model, for god sakes! I hate models!

“What?” I ask in shock. Me? Jealous? Of what? “Jealous of what?”

“Jealous. Period.” She says with a shrug. She looks less, I don’t know…..stuck up, today. Maybe it’s those stupid jeans.

“I’m not jealous of anything,” I say and she’s entirely too close to me right now. I can smell that shit she’s wearing and it’s driving me fucking nuts. What is it? Fucking come and get me perfume? I ain’t coming to get a goddamn thing. I have a girlfriend. Carla smells better anyway! I mean Cameron! Fucking bitch! Get the fuck away from me!

“Well be careful then, Mr. Timberlake,” she says as she turns to get into her car. “Because you just sounded like you were a whole lot of jealous.”

“What?!” I say to her but she puts her car in reverse and pulls out of the studio. I’m not jealous. I’m not. Of what? Tim’s cousin? Please!

I’m fucking pissed now as I enter the studio again. I’m thirsty too. She didn’t even get my shit. She was supposed to be working? Well hell, I’m the client and nothing has been served to me, here. I enter the studio and Tim is doing something with the A&R guy and I decide to finally have a piece of this cold ass pizza.

Tim’s cousin isn’t in the studio anymore and I’m hoping he didn’t go out the other door to meet her or something. I mean I don’t give a damn or anything. But still.

This pizza fucking blows and I need something to drink. There’s a bag on the floor, underneath the coffee table. I go to see what’s in it but something else catches my attention. There’s a large Starbucks cup sitting on top of the table. It hasn’t been touched, I can tell. It’s clearly marked ‘Tea’ on the outside. The receipt taped to it indicates that the tea has no sugar and extra helpings of honey. I look inside the bag and there are two bags of Twistlers, a pack of gum and a box of Runts. The two bottles of water are also on the table. What the fuck? So she can remember shit, big fucking deal. So Rachel needs for things to be repeated, Ms. Martinez. Point taken.

Now, where the fuck did Tim’s cousin go?

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Next Morning

I’m not happy. It’s nine o’clock in the morning and I should be in bed still. Instead I’m riding in an elevator with the three little pigs. The three men are obviously new employees or something because they haven’t introduced themselves yet. Normally the employees of The Firm also known as Wright Entertainment Group, will introduce themselves to the artist, seventy thousand times. They want to get in good with us for their own benefits. Don’t ask me, I don’t know.

They know who I am and I’m not being arrogant when I say this but I mean, who doesn’t know? The elevator doors open to the Public Relations floor and they actually move aside so that I can get off first. I’m just a dude, guys! I mean I pay for your meals, but still.

I walk over to the receptionist outside those stupid mirrors and she looks at me funny. Well, good morning to you too.

“Good morning Justin,” she says and looks down at the big appointment book in front of her.

“Good morning,” I say as cheerfully as I can. “Is Ms. Martinez in her office?”

“Yes,” she looks at that stupid book again and looks up at me. “I’m sorry, do you have an appointment with Ms. Martinez today? I don’t see it on here.”

“My assistant said she called and scheduled an appointment for today. I don’t know what it’s about but I didn’t come here for nothing. I’m sure she forgot to inform you of the meeting.”

“Ms. Martinez doesn’t forget things like that, Justin. Believe me,” she says with a smile. “But I’ll let her know you’re here anyway.”

“It’s alright I can show myself to her door,” I say and start walking behind her desk toward the mirrored door.

“Oh no, wait,” she says walking behind me. “You can’t go in there right now,” she’s saying but I’m already opening the door to her office. “She’s in a meeting.”

When I open the door, she is in fact in a meeting. Three reps that I recognize from the office are sitting at the large conference table. She’s sitting in ‘her’ chair with her glasses low on her nose. She looks up at me and she stares. Wasn’t she supposed to be meeting with me?

“Can I help you Mr. Timberlake?” she says curtly. The reps look up at me and then back at her. What the hell where they looking at? So I interrupted, big deal.

“I have a meeting with you,” I simply state and the secretary has now opted to go back to her desk. She’s gonna get yelled at, I bet.

“No, you don’t,” she says and takes her glasses off. She leans back on her chair and I notice how one of the rep’s eyes go to her thigh. She needs to make those stupid skirts longer.

“Yes, I do. I was told to come here for a meeting at nine. It’s eight fifty seven,” I say looking at my watch. “Am I that early?”

“Well you’re early alright,” she says getting and again she’s walking toward me like fucking model. Why does she have to walk like that? “I’ll take a wild guess and say that Ms. Bomar informed you or a supposed meeting.”

“Look! You called and scheduled a meeting with her. Don’t come and try to tell me you didn’t because I know you did,” I say with my hands inside my hoodie’s pockets.

“Oh, well I did call,” she says with a serious expression. “You should really consider a new assistant, Mr. Timberlake. I can’t stress it enough.”

“What do you want to see me for?” I ask and that guy is really loving the ass shot he’s getting from her right now as she’s standing in front of me. Perv!

“I don’t,” she says. “At least not today. TOMORROW at nine, we do have a meeting. But today, I have other meetings. As you can tell you interrupted one of them.”

“But,” I start to say but she shakes her head.

“Now, Mr. Timberlake, if your assistant gave you the wrong information. I suggest you take that up with her. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to run,” she says opening the door to her office wide so that I can step out.

I leave the office but not before rolling my eyes in her direction. Whatever, I may look like a bitch doing it but it feels good. At least I didn’t punch her in the face. Or slap her. Or kiss her. Or throw her on top of her desk and make her say my name. Or fuck her senseless. I just rolled my eyes.

What? Where the hell did that come from?