Chapter 2.
Justin.
“Okay everybody! Smile!” I groaned inwardly, and plastered on my best fake smile, hoping no one would notice my distain of the deep red “wedding” theme, when I felt a sharp poke in my ribs.
“Ow!” I hissed, eying my surroundings to find the culprit, only to notice Jen glaring at me from behind her bouquet of white oleanders. I rubbed my sides and glared back at her, “What was that for?”
Jen didn’t answer, instead she used her right hand to push back her hair from her shoulder and gave a bright smile in the direction of the photographer, and I rolled my eyes.
This “wedding” was getting too real for me. It had been agreed, by Johnny and Marcus, that we would have a private photographer set up a shoot of our “wedding photo” and then we’d send it out to the highest bidder (or magazine) with a publicist comment. The comment would state that we had been seeing each other secretly and felt it was the right time to get married.
Yeah right, right time? It hadn’t been a right time, all it was that we had the certificate to say we were married so we needed a “photo” to prove it in case people spied us all of a sudden living together and started sparking rumours, which was something nobody, especially me, needed right then.
“Whatever,” I grumbled and plastered on another fake smile, our problems oblivious to the photographer but not to our closest friends.
“At least pretend to be happy,” Trace grumbled under his breath from beside me as we took our final pose. I wanted to beat him over the head.
“What are you talking about?” I decided to play oblivious with him; I didn’t want to be ratted out any more because knowing Trace he’d probably tell my mother about my atrocious behaviour. Trace smoothed out his tie as the photographer waved at us that he was done. I let out sigh of relief and looked at my best friend, waiting for an answer.
“I’m talking about the fact that you look like grumpy bear,” Trace pointed out and pointed a finger in my face; I swatted it away and rolled my eyes at his care bear reference.
“I do not look like gru…” I stopped myself short realising what I was about to say and shook my head, “I’m just tired.”
“Tired of what?” Trace challenged and I sighed, he was getting more and more complex to talk to ever since that day in the bar. “Of doing nothing?”
His words totally took me by surprise and I stood there staring at him for what seemed like ages before I spoke, “What? I have been doing a hell of things around here to…”
“I know you have,” Trace smiled and clapped my shoulder, “But dude drinking yourself silly does not fall into that category.”
“For your information…” I began, ready to tell him off and make up a whole slew off things about what I had been doing that I wasn’t, but stopped short as Jen’s screaming filled my ears.
“Justin!” she hollered and I had to restrain myself from covering up my ears, she was going to make me go deaf.
“Yeah buttercup?” I asked, sarcasm fell from my lips without me noticing as I turned to face her, Trace rolling his eyes at me as I did so.
“Don’t call me that!” she snapped back and glared at me, before being caught by Marcus and Johnny, both looking between us angrily. She plastered on a fake smile and quickly rectified her mistake, “I mean, you know how I hate it when you call me that.”
“Sorry,” I replied and rolled my eyes at her, “What do you want?” I was done playing nice, I needed a bloody drink after all I had gone through this day.
“You need to come here so we can take the final shot,” Jen answered as if I was stupid. I sighed and shook my head, I wanted that drink.
“Fine,” I grumbled and trudged over to her, hearing Trace chortle away in the background, I turned my head slightly and shot him a cold stare before continuing on my way. “Let’s get this over with.”
A few hours later and I was sitting back on my ass, doing absolutely nothing, and having a drink enjoying myself, when she hollered. She came rolling into my house like a steam roller and looming over me like a bloody truck.
“Justin,” she said, causing me to whip my head up, nearly giving me whiplash.
“Yes buttercup?” I asked sarcastically and took a swig of my beer. “What is it?”
“Can you help me move some of my stuff up the stairs?” she asked, and for once I’ll admit it, her tone wasn’t demanding or rude. It was nice, like she genuinely needed my help and was asking nicely. But of course I didn’t see it like that at the time.
“Why? Can’t you do it yourself?” I replied cockily and raised an eyebrow at her, “You seem to have enough… ouch!” Someone stepped on my foot, causing me to stop mid-sentence and glare at them angrily. “Trace what the fuck man?”
“Of course we’ll help Jen,” Trace answered, ignoring both my look and question and grinning up at her like a bloody Cheshire cat.
“Thank you Trace,” Jen smiled at him gratefully and shot a glare at me before walking off back to her boxes.
“Come on get off your lazy ass,” Trace laughed and tried to kick me in the shin but I moved my foot away and shook my head.
“There is no way I am going to help. I didn’t ask her to move in with me.” I stated and refused to move. Trace sighed dramatically and this time when he kicked he made contact with my shin. “Fuck!” I pulled my leg off the floor and hugged my knee to my chest, rubbing on my shit.
“Yeah but you married her,” Trace said and reached over to grab my arm, “Which usually means you have to live together, and since she doesn’t have a house in LA…”
“Then she should buy one shouldn’t she?” I snapped as Trace pulled me to my feet and I shoved him away angrily.
“You know she can’t do that,” Trace replied and shook his head at me, “God you’re impossible you know that right?”
“I am not!” I retorted like a five year old child and Trace let out a long sigh, clearly frustrated with me.
“Look J…” he began but was cut off as Jen called to him from the foyer.
“Trace? Are you guys coming or what?” her voice echoed in my ears and this time I actually covered them. Shit the girl had a set of lungs on her.
“We’re coming Jen!” Trace called back and glared at me before grabbing my arm. “Come on.”
Jennifer.
As we stood in front of the photographer all I could think about was what am I doing here?
Justin and I were in the middle of a photo shoot at the Beverley Hills Hotel for our "wedding photo." After our meeting three weeks ago we sat down with Johnny, Marcus and our lawyers to fill out paper work and sign our marriage license, we were officially married.
Justin groaned when the photographer asked us to smile and I pinched him in his side; he was the most impatient person I have ever met. He whispered something under his breath to me, something I didn’t quite catch so I just glared at him, then turned back to the photographer and smiled.
"You look really beautiful," Kia whispered in my ear. I sure as hell don't feel beautiful; I thought to myself and tried to focus on what was happening. The photographer waved to say he was done with this shot.
“I can't wait to get out of these shoes," I stated and I walked over to the vanity with Kia right behind me.
“We have one more shot and were done for the day," she said as Terry, my makeup stylist, was busy adding more mascara and eyeliner to my already make-up filled face as I sat down.
"So what's it like to be married to the man who brought sexy back?" Terry asked I shrugged, trying not to get into it too much because what I really wanted to say was nothing, because that’s what it was. I had no feelings for him and this was for Justin to help get his image back on track.
"It's great...we’re still newlyweds. Ask me a month from now I might have another answer," I said and we laughed.
“What’s the sex like?" Kia asked she was milking this one, just to see the kind of reaction out of me. Terry stopped adding blush to my cheek.
"I defiantly want to know the answer to that question," he stated and I rolled my eyes at them both, Kia really wanted to get on my bad side didn’t she?
“What happens in the bed room stays in the bedroom,” I stated uneasily not knowing how to reply and was so glad the photographer came over, it was getting really awkward.
I took in a deep breath as I set down the heavy box and sat down on it, hearing Kia swear under her breath from the front door. The ‘wedding’ was over and we were finally moving my stuff into Justin’s place since we needed to live together to make this thing work and I didn’t have a house in LA.
“I wish that husband of yours would help,” Kia said putting down her box beside me and sitting down on it as well. I rolled my eyes at her comment; Justin would never lift a finger to help anyone, especially me.
“He won’t help anyone but himself,” I told her and wiped my forehead before getting up and picking up two bottles of water and tossing on to Kia.
“How do you know?” Kia asked, and eyes me as she opened up her water and took a sip. “Have you asked him?”
“Well no but…” I began and opened up my water as
well.
“Well then go and ask before you make those accusations,” she replied and I opened my mouth to tell her that just a few minutes ago she was doing the same thing, but she stopped me. “Go on, Trace said they were in the den.”
“Fine,” I grumbled and gave in, placing the bottle of water down on the counter top and heading in the direction of the den. “Justin?” I walked into the den and saw him sitting on his ass. “Justin.”
“Yes buttercup?” he asked his voiced laced with sarcasm as I tried not to roll my eyes at him, I hated it when he called me that, and he took a swig of the beer in his hand. “What is it?”
“Can you help me move some of my stuff up the stairs?” I asked, trying to be nice and actually polite to him.
“Why? Can’t you do it yourself?” he replied cockily and raised an eyebrow at me; I sighed and shook my head, “You seem to have enough…” He began and I glared at him, willing him to finish his sentence before I notice Trace stepping on his foot making him yelp in pain. “Ouch! Trace what the fuck man?”
“Of course we’ll help Jen,” Trace answered, with a sweet smile and I smiled back at him gratefully. He had just saved both mine and Justin’s asses without knowing it.
“Thank you Trace,” I replied before shooting a death glare at Justin, he should learn some manners from his friend, before turning around and heading back to where Kia was eagerly waiting for the news.
“Well?” she asked as I approached her and I shrugged.
“Trace said they’ll help,” I replied, knowing full and well Justin would complain about it until the day he died, I also failed to mention to her the comment he made about my body, knowing she would tear him to shreds for it and as much as I wanted him to die we couldn’t have it.
“That’s all?” she asked and I nodded, taking a sip of my water.
“Yup,” I responded and looked at the boxes, “Let’s get back to work.”
“Fine,” Kia nodded and looked at me. “Well?”
“Well what?” I asked and she gave me the look, her you-know-what look. "Trace? Are you guys coming or what?” I called, just to make her happy although I didn’t really know why. They wouldn’t come, not if Justin had anything to do with it.
“We’re coming Jen!” Trace called back, and I looked at Kia.
“Satisfied?” I asked, and grinned at her, “But I know you only wanted me to ask them to you can look at Trace’s ass while he lifts a box.”
“I did not,” she answered and looked towards the den before we both burst out laughing.
Author's Chapter Notes:
ok so here's a new chapter... and we're working on other things to go with it.. so enjoy!!!
Chapter End Notes:
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