BEEP BEEP BEEP
I groan and roll over to hit the snooze function on my iPhone, as I normally do every weekday morning. After, I fall back to sleep for another twenty minutes, before the alarm sounds again, and then I’m forced to start my work day.
But today...something is different.
My arm feels like it’s on top of something...
Or somebody.
“Baby...”
I hear a tender laugh, as my arm is lowered back by my side, and immediately I’m wide awake.
God...oh God...some creep from the streets has crawled into bed with me...
Shit.
Jesus.
But then he sits up. He sits up and...and I’m not scared anymore.
I’m not scared but I do feel like I’m going to crap my pants. That is, if I had pants on. I realize I’m in a silky little nighty, and nothing else.
“That’s the second morning this week that you whacked me in the face.”
Justin Timberlake leans down, plants a kiss on my lips, and smiles back at me.
Okay, wake up. Wake up. You’re going to be late for work, so wake up, right fucking now.
“Babe?”
He looks confused, like he doesn’t understand why the hell I’m staring at him like a lost little puppy. He’s...shirtless, just in his boxers, like we do this every single day of the week. I look around. This isn’t my apartment. Not at all. This place is big. It’s a bedroom, a master bedroom with a....fuck...a...a balcony and an adjoining bathroom.
I’m dreaming.
I have to be dreaming.
I shake my head roughly.
“Lauren.”
Shit, he knows my name.
His expression grows serious and he reaches out to touch his hand to my cheek. It’s warm, inviting, and when I reach up and touch his hand...I really feel it there. When I meet his gaze he’s staring back at me with those blue eyes that melt me right down to the core, like he’s a little worried, like he’s in love with me.
In love with me.
“What is it?” He laughs. “Bad dream?”
“I...um...how...how long has this been going on?”
He chuckles. “You had too much to drink last night didn’t you? I told you not to drink that stuff Trace was mixing up. You should know better by now.”
“Trace?” I say it like I’m stupid. Of course I know who Trace is, he’s Justin’s best friend, but right now, he’s acting as if I’m friends with the guy.
He’s also acting like he’s my boyfriend or something.
How the hell did I get here?
“Yeah...Trace, you know...my best friend? The guy that’s about to be my best man?”
“Oh...” I trail off and swallow hard, allowing what he just said to sink in completely. Best man. He’s getting married. I look down at my left hand.
Oh wow.
There’s a big fat diamond on my finger that wasn’t there yesterday. I look back into those eyes of his. They’re bright, glinting with happiness.
Obviously, he’s getting married to me.
“You sure you’re all right?” He laughs, and kisses me one more time before he slides out of the bed and starts toward the bathroom. “You’re all dazed.”
“I’ll um...I’ll be okay.”
I won’t be, but it’s better to reassure him otherwise.
“Well you better get ready, okay? Appointment is at ten.”
He smiles like I know what he’s talking about, and I decide to play along for the moment because I don’t want to completely freak the guy out. I mean...he must be warped right? He’s acting like our lives have been this way for a long time, while I can’t remember ever meeting him in person. Candid camera anyone? “Okay.”
He smirks, and then shuts himself in the bathroom. A few moments later I hear the shower running and I know that I’m finally alone with my thoughts.
Although, all I can really think about is the fact that Justin Timberlake is naked in a shower, one room away from me. It’s as if all of my teenage fantasies are coming true, and a big part of me wants to just break down that door and fuck him silly. Something is stopping me though. I can’t just do that to him. He doesn’t know me...well, apparently he does, but I don’t know him...not like that. I only know the Justin Timberlake I’ve seen on my walls, on the TV and on the stage. This is the personal, private Justin. The one nobody is allowed to see besides his family and friends.
Suddenly I’ve been flung into his life too, through some weird time warp or vortex. I need an explanation.
Work. I’ll call work. Surely, I’ll be able to make some sense of my life if I’m able to talk to a co worker. I frantically grab for my phone on the nightstand and dial the number.
“Mercury Publishing.”
“Candice, it’s me.”
“Sorry?
“Lauren.”
“Lauren?”
“Yeah...” I trail off and clear my throat. “You know, Lauren Taylor. You’ve seen me everyday for the past four years. We interned together and became full time together...that Lauren.”
“I don’t know any Lauren Taylor. Are you sure you have the right number?”
I drop the phone.
This is...this is real, and it’s fucking scary. My life has completely changed, unbeknownst to me, overnight.
One more person to call. Somebody I should have called before I called the office. I dial home, hoping my mother will be there. She can explain all of this. She’s always been able to explain things to me.
“Hello?”
“Mom?”
“Lauren, what’s wrong? You sound panicked.”
“God...I am.”
“Talk to me.”
“Mom I...am I...I mean, do I have a boyfriend?”
She cackles. “What world are you living in?”
I breathe out a relieved sigh, but suck it back in because I can still hear that shower running. “So I’m single?”
“You were drinking last night weren’t you?”
“Mom?”
“Honey, you’re getting married in a week. You don’t have time to be acting like this.”
“Married?”
r32;“Where’s Justin?”
“S-shower.”
She huffs. “I told him, no more parties til the wedding. My God, it’s bad enough you have to deal with both the families at once starting tomorrow morning. I’m sure it will be more than overwhelming for you. You can’t be hungover.”
“Tomorrow morning?”
“Christmas Eve? Lauren...I swear to God, no more parties. Promise me.”
My mouth hangs open. Christmas Eve? I’m going to be spending Christmas Eve with my family and Justin’s family? I’m getting married in a week too...
New Years Eve.
Holy Shit.
“Lauren, honey...are you there?”
“I’m here,” I manage it, somehow.
“No more parties.”
“No...” The bathroom door creaks open just then, and my ‘fiance’ walks out.
Naked.
I gasp, turn around quickly and put a hand over my mouth. Oh my freakin Jesus. Oh my God.
“I gotta go, mom.”r32;
“But...”
I end the call and put the phone down forcefully on the nightstand.
“Who was that, your mom?”
“Uh...uh huh.”
“You tell her about your wild night?”
“Mmhm.”
He walks over to the closet and starts to rifle through it once he opens the door. I on the other hand, can’t take my eyes off of his ass, until he ventures further inside, out of site. I see my clothes and shoes to the left and his to the right of the walk in. It’s huge. My side is a little messy, as I would expect, while his is neat and organized. He walks out with some clothing after a moment. I recognize the emblem on the back pockets of the jeans as William Rast, and I blink again, shake my head, try to wake up.
Maybe I slipped into a coma when I fell asleep. Yeah, that has to be it.
I watch as he slips the shirt over his perfectly toned upper half, and starts yanking his boxers on next. It’s only when all of...his stuff...is covered, that I can breathe normally again.
“You know, I wish we didn’t have to go to Maria’s today. I’d rather do some non wedding stuff with you before we fly out, baby.”
I lean back, feel my body hit the headboard, and just...watch him.
“You’re still in a daze, aren’t you?” He smiles, as he puts his jeans on and fastens the belt around his waist. “Damn whiskey. What’d your mom say?”
It takes me a minute to speak again. I can’t get that image of him and his nakedness out of my mind. All I really want is to see it again, but I can’t. That’s sick, and he’s brainwashed. I’m just a stranger...I shouldn’t be seeing him like that.
“No more parties,” I whisper.
He laughs loudly and plops down onto the bed with me again, taking me in his arms, and planting a long, loving kiss on my lips before I can stop him. It takes my breath away, literally. It’s not just a kiss some guy would give you after a one night stand. It’s one that your loving fiancé would give you a week before your wedding. When our lips part I stare back into his eyes, and I can feel a small smile break on my face for the first time.
“Deal,” he smirks. “We don’t have time for another one anyway. We’re leaving.”
He’s stroking my face and smoothing my hair back out of my eyes before I can respond. “Justin.”
“Yeah, babe?”
“What’s the date today?”
He snickers. “December twenty third.”
I take a long breath. “And...okay...this is going to sound weird but...how long have we known each other?”
“I’ll kill Trace,” he sighs. “Next time, I’m monitoring the bar when he’s around.”
I force a laugh. “Really though, how long?”
His brow furrows. “Is this a test?”
“No...no I...I guess I was just trying to calculate it in my head for some reason, and my mind is all fuzzy because of...the liquor.”
“Five years,” he laughs. “Really, Laur...you’re starting to scare me.”
I’ve been with this man for five years? How the hell is that possible? “But I...I haven’t lived here for five years.”
“Right...” He gives me a sideways glance, like he thinks I’m playing games. “But we met when you were going to school in New York and did the long distance thing for awhile. I was touring, remember?”
“Oh...”
He pulls away from me. “Did Sam put you up to this or something? Is it one of those ‘before your wedding’ rituals that women make up to drive their fiancé's insane before their nuptials?”
I shake my head.
“You don’t have to lie, you know.”
“I’m...I’m not lying.”
He sighs. “I’m nervous too. I mean, it’s a big deal, and my family and your family are making it an even bigger one. You can talk to me, you don’t have to just...drink yourself into a stupor and act like you don’t know me in the morning.”
It’s obvious that he’s hurt, and with good reason. This is a special week for us, even though I can’t remember this life outside of this morning. I want to snap out of it, badly, accept this as my reality but the thing is...I know, deep down, that I’m not the woman he knows so well, and I doubt I can turn back into her in time for a fancy, expensive wedding filled with our family and friends.
I could embarrass him. Maybe I should run away, escape when his back is turned.
But I don’t want to. I don’t want to run away from this beautiful man, I want to get to know him, and fall in love with him if I can.
Is that so crazy?
“Lauren?”
Oh yeah, he’s probably waiting for me to say something. “I guess I might be nervous...I’m, um...I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head a little, and kisses my cheek gently once more, before he gets up from the bed. “I’ll go fix us something to eat while you get ready, all right?”
I nod. “Sure.”
He walks to the door, and I start the painstaking process of getting out of the bed. The problem is, it’s too comfortable, and I’m still about to shit my pants.
“Babe.”
I look at him again. He’s stopped in the doorway, looking at me seriously. “Y-yeah?”
“You...you’d tell me if you weren’t ready for this, right?”
My heart sinks. That expression on his face right now...it’s heartbreaking. I can tell how much he loves me, well, the Lauren he knows anyway. I have to figure this out. I know that I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t supposed to be. Justin is far too rich and successful to waste his time playing a practical joke on an ordinary woman like myself.
“Of course I would,” I finally say.
He seems to force a smile. “See you downstairs.”
Justin is gone in a flash and I quickly jog to the door and close it, leaning my back against it as I slide down to the floor. I put my head in my hands, try to think, recall anything I might have done to cause all of this to happen. Time surged forward, or something. Yesterday was December first, my roommate even said so. So then what the hell happened?
New York...
He said he met me in New York, and that would be fine...if I went to school there, which I didn’t. I was accepted at NYU as well as West Los Angeles University, but I decided to choose the latter. Something about LA intrigued me from the start, but for a month or so, I seriously considered becoming a New Yorker. There’s always been a small part of me that regretted not going. At times it’s nagged at me, tugged at my emotions, told me that something was missing.
I’ve ignored those feelings until today.
But right now, I feel like my life has been spun around and...I think...I think I’m living the life I would have been if I chose New York over California.
Or I could just be a delusional freak.
Either way, I’m stuck with Justin Timberlake for the time being. For the Christmas Holiday, no less. That can’t be so bad. Maybe Santa has decided to be good to me this year or something, grant my adolescent wishes.
For now, I’ll play along, because the situation is too incredible to run away from.
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