“So let’s just get right to the point. I mean why beat around the proverbial bush? Has the rug rat gotten in the way of the Timberlake love train?”
The laughter echoes off the walls of the small booth. Justin forces forward a smile and a chuckle to satisfy the listeners that won’t be able to appreciate the visual exertion. All too soon the laughter trails off and Justin is left to answer the question that the idiots were ballsy enough to ask.
He clears his throat a few times and reaches for the bottled water supplied. It’s not what he requested, but at this moment he could really care less. This was the exact reason he didn’t want to go on this mini media tour. His fatherhood is still too new to be made into humor by a bunch of dickwads who wouldn’t know a baby from their own naked ass.
But the suits were nervous. It had been too long since anyone had actually heard from him, his last record was still fairly recent, but they felt that a quick trip to New York along with a few key stops would satisfy them for the remainder of the year he had requested.
Sadly Justin had accepted before he could really think it through completely. Had he had the foresight to do that, this exact moment would have played out in his head. The business is predictable enough for that.
“You know how it goes. It’s just another car added on; the train is still going strong.”
Somehow he even manages a chuckle in the midst of the sentence. The DJ’s offer a few cat calls in response and it seems that the little white lie has sufficed. Satisfied with probing into his love life the conversation wanders towards the music and things that Justin could answer in his sleep.
Without needing his head to answer, his thoughts wander. He just might be in the longest dry streak he’s had since being transformed into a man at the ripe age of 14. It would be a lie to say that he isn’t actively aware of that fact.
More than anything he would like to base his current fascination with Mae on this fact. It makes him feel safe, even if he knows it’s really not true.
When the time finally came to pull the earphones off, Justin could feel every ounce of their weight being lifted. One interview piled on top of another, he wasn’t even sure that it had happened in the same day.
Hands slapped and unenthusiastic promises to party the next time he was on town exchanged. His hand tingles from the contact as he reaches for the door. The air outside the studio seems fresher, but it could be the lack of kiss ass in the air. Several people flock to his side spouting off new variations of his schedule and other requests he couldn’t give two shits about.
The only thing his mind focuses on is the fact that he hasn’t seen Jonah all day. He was wrangled out of bed before he would even dare waking him and hadn’t been allowed to sneak back during lunch like he planned.
Just the simple thought causes a chain reaction that results in a dull thumping that accompanies his heartbeat. He rubs a hand over the afflicted area, but it does nothing to dull the ache.
“There’s a new club down on 54th that’s offering you $150,000 if you can come down and make like you’re having the time of your life.”
Its only one of a slew of requests, but it’s the only one that actually makes it through his haze. A small domino effect occurs as he stops in his tracks.
“No.”
Several people looks between themselves wondering exactly who he’s talking to. Justin’s fists clench several times before grasping his head.
“I don’t care who the hell is counting on my support and I don’t give a fuck how much money anyone is offering. I don’t want anything on my schedule for the next 24 hours. Call who you have to, lie, do whatever the fuck you have to do, but DO NOT come near me until tomorrow night.”
Justin watches the wide eyes and can almost see his words rattling through their minds. Several nods follow a significant silence and that’s enough for him to feel that he can continue.
He slams the car door behind him before anyone can attempt to slither in after him. He begins the process of pulling all his mobile devices from his pockets and shutting them off one by one. A few are already ringing when he hits power. The slide along the leather beside him and he sneers at the number. Four. Who the hell needs four phones?
The car slows as the hotel nears. A few lingering photographers ready their lens and Justin wants to groan.
“Can you take me around back?” he asks. The driver nods and pulls away from the curb. Justin sinks back into the seat grateful for the few extra moments of silence. Long after the car has stopped he keeps his gaze of the upholstered ceiling rather than moving.
The driver clears his throat softly and Justin breaks his stare.
“Do you want me to take you around the block again sir?” he asks.
“No, I’m fine.” He opens the door without waiting for the driver to take care of the chore. His hands go instinctively to his pockets as he makes his way through the damp corridors towards the service elevator.
For a brief seconds he’s tempted to trail his hand along the hotel wall as he makes his way the final feet to his door. The ground seems to be pulling at his feet with each step keeping from his final destination. When he reaches his door he leans his forehead against the cool wood for a moment relishing in the small victory.
Even through the famed thick doors he can hear the TV on the other side. The thought of the people on the other side brings a smile to his face. He reaches into his pocket to retrieve his key and pushes the door open in a hurry.
Everything that isn’t directly attached to his body is dropped in the entry as he makes his way to the living room. Cheesy horror music flows from the room and he’s sad to admit that he recognizes it.
“Not really what I would call the pinnacle of movie making, but everyone has to start somewhere,” Mae states. Justin leans against the doorframe and watches the familiar scene flash across the screen. Kate’s first movie wasn’t a blockbuster to say the least and she only appeared in the first fifteen minutes.
His eyes wander away from the screen and towards the pair seated on the floor. Mae would completely ignore the luxury leather couches behind her and opt for the floor. She’s seated cross-legged on the floor, Jonah resting snuggly in the space between her legs.
“And……there she is Jones. Do you see Mommy? The blood kind of makes it hard, but that’s her.” She points a finger towards the screen and Justin is surprised to see Jonah’s gaze follow her finger. Just before blood begins to spurt from Kate’s character’s throat Mae switches off the TV.
“Well there’s no need to see all that,” Mae mutters. She pulls Jonah from her lap and helps him stand. Justin feels his chest clench. She pulls away slowly and Justin feels bad for being glad when Jonah quickly land on his padded butt. There are still a few things he wants to be a part of.
“Da!” Justin cringes as Jonah gives him away. Mae’s head turns to meet his reluctant smile.
“I always knew you had stalker like tendencies. And now the baby proves it,” Mae quips. She releases her grip on Jonah and lets him cross the distance to Justin. Settling back on his haunches Justin holds out his hands and waits for his son.
When Jonah pauses half way to reach a small hand up to rub his eye, Justin crosses the remaining space and pulls him to his chest.
“I was hoping you would get home before he went to bed. I figured you probably wanted to see him, so I might have kept him up just a little,” Mae admits. Jonah wraps a chubby arm around his father’s neck and Justin can’t even remember anything else that happened today. All he can feel is his son in his arms and all he can see is the woman smiling up at him from a blanket on the floor.
“Thank you.” The words are small and horse, but Mae nods so he thinks that she hears them. He turns towards his bedroom and leaves the lights off. The consistent rise and fall of Jonah’s chest tells him that he’s close to sleep. The mattress doesn’t give under Justin’s weight as he settles into it. He kicks off his shoes and leans back against the pillows.
He keeps a steady hand on Jonah’s back and lets his eyes slide closed. He’s halfway across a pond made up completely of orange jello when his eyes snap open. The red numbers on the clock next to him inform him he was asleep for two hours. A soft singing from the next room washes over him.
Carefully he rises from the bed and lays Jonah in his crib. The steps he takes towards the door are slow, partially because he is going in reverse and partially because he doesn’t want to hit any unknown squeaks.
When the door is shut noise free behind him he takes in the room before him. Mae is on her hands and knees glaring at something underneath an armchair. This doesn’t stop her from continuing to quietly sing a Joni Mitchell song he can’t quite place.
“What are you looking for?” His sudden question causes Mae to rise quickly hitting her head on a side table. A small ‘ow’ escapes her lips before she settles against the back of the couch rubbing the sore spot. Justin stops the chuckles after only a few seconds and slides down on the floor next to her.
“I hope whatever it is its worth the pain,” he states. Mae narrows her eyes at him, keeping her hand over the bump on her head.
“You do realize that you are the cause for the pain and NOT Jonah’s missing bottle?” Mae asks. Justin shrugs and attempts to lift her hand and inspect the wound. Mae presses even harder to resist and winces under the pressure.
“Sorry sorry. I was trying to help,” Justin says holding his offending hands up for her to see.
“Ok that so didn’t help. Maybe you could look for the bottle and keep away from my head?” Mae suggests. Justin ignores the bite to her tone and takes a visual survey of the room before moving towards the TV chest.
He stretches his body out on the floor and reaches his hand underneath. When his hand meets the familiar shape he smiles. Something goes his way for the first time today. He holds the half full bottle up over his head before he even stands.
“Of course the first place you look. From now on when I lose something, I’m going to call you,” Mae laughs. Justin tosses the bottle towards her without looking and it isn’t until the repeat of the ‘ow’ that he thinks twice.
He bites his lip when he sees her other hand over her mouth.
“Good Lord Mae I am so fucking sorry. Are you ok?” he asks as he approaches her. Her eyes warn him off, but she doesn’t reply. When he kneels next to her she tries to position her body away from him, but he turns her shoulders towards him.
“Just let me get a look at it Mae,” he orders. She remains still, but resists a little as he pulls her hand away from her mouth. Her top lip is split ever so slightly. Justin leans in close to her to get a better look.
Her breath hits his cheek as he examines the wound, the slight scent of licorice surrounding him. His fingers move without thought touching just below the cut. The softness surprises him a little. She sighs a little, the scent becoming a little more apparent.
His eyes flutter up to hers only briefly before he lets his lips settle where his finger previously was. The pressure is light, he manages to remember that her lips is cut, but its contact none the less.
And then he waits. Waits with his lips on hers for her to do anything, push him away, reciprocate, scream, anything. But she remains still, softly breathing her licorice breath into him like a lifeline.
Just before he pulls away she leans into the contact ever so slightly. She gives him just enough to know that she is responding before she pulls away.
“You threw a bottle at me,” she whispers, once clear of his lips. Justin shakes his head as he pulls away.
“That’s all you have to say?” he quizzes. Mae’s uninjured side of her mouth curls into a smile.
“Don’t do it again.”
Justin opens his mouth to spout off another reply when she presses her lips firmly against his. So much for denial.
Author's Chapter Notes:
i know i know....it's been FOREVER, but i hope to update more often. i hope this makes up for it just a little :)
Story Tags: Be the first to add a tag to this story
