I was walking aimlessly along the sidewalk, oblivious to the world around me, searching in the bottom of my oversized tote bag for my plastic id card that seemed to always be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like this morning, when I needed it to board the campus shuttle, and found myself at the front end of the line of the twenty or so passenger waiting to get out of the drizzling rain or yesterday when I all but jogged to the cafeteria- definitely starving might I add- and remembered that I had left it on top of my dresser next to the other bag I had decided not to use. I was again approaching the bus stop, deciding that I’d skip my library time, and head home to try and tame to small world presently growing out of my face. It was one of those little suckers that didn’t look like much now- you know the ones that start of like just a small red dot, but by the end of the day- or at least closest to one of those really important moments in life- it suddenly appears to be eating your face. Well, that’s what I had- or at least that’s what I would have if I hadn’t decided to follow through with this diversion and get home to slap some type of control ointment on it. I had just found the damned card when for some inane reason I flicked it, by accident, about a foot away. Of course it landed between the sidewalk and the One Mercedes M Class parked within fifty mile of the campus. I rolled my eyes, hoping that it was a professor with tenure pushing such an extravagant ride and not one of my fellow classmates. These damn rich kids and their goddamn silver platters, I thought angrily as I bent down beside the car using it to hold myself up. It took only a moment, and yet it was just enough time for the owner to approach, as I had heard the clearing of the throat behind me.
" Get off the car." I didn’t expect to see the oversized black man glaring down at me, but most importantly- I didn’t expect to see Justin Timberlake standing there beside him.So there I was, standing face to face with one of People’s hottest under 21 and I wondered whether he wanted my name or an explanation to the small universe growing out of my face.
" Pleasant to meet you...but really, it must be hard to come by good hired help these days." It was official, I was being a jackass- which could only make sense since I was Deagan Phillips- and very much known to be one. I could tell from the surprised look enveloping Justin’s face that he hadn’t actually expected that for my reply. But then again, I was full of unexpected things. That was actually the story of my life, this encounter just drives my point right on home.
"And decent wax jobs" I couldn’t tell by the subtle look on his face, or the stinging feeling of guilt nestled inside my throat, whether or not I should be offended by his statement. I chose to ignore his playful banter, and once again rely on my own dramatic and insanely wrong interpretation. I guess I was so intent on making a fool of myself that I completely missed the way his top lip curled into the crevice of a smile. I was aloof, totally and ridiculously aloof to the fact that America’s heartthrob was -could I dare say- flirting with me. Instead I decided to believe he was merely out to tickle his own fancy and make a complete fool out of me. And they say I’m dramatic.
" You would think low class society would put more effort into the detail of a car they’d never one day come to own for themselves while living off the gloriously limited stipend you refer to as a tip." I must say, if rude wasn’t the word to describe my behavior before- it certainly wouldn’t be appropriate now. The gall I had to stand and insult the one and only man every girl in my building dreamed of simply because I was embarrassed to have completely violated the precious coat of paint on this priceless automatic possession. And yet I wondered who in the hell did he think he was, and where the hell did he come off?
" Excuse me?" he looked more than insulted, he looked amused. As if he found the very idea of my actions so absurd that it was funny. Really, who would argue with him there? But I knew better than to ask that question, since it was I who would and definitely I who did.
" If it hasn’t already registered." I paused to throw a disgusted look towards his obvious "body guard" and then rested my eyes on him. I imagined the soft color of honey dew no longer existed and that my pupils had blazed somewhere between sour apple and tough kiwi. I was going to rectify this situation, which meant I would not only walk away from this with my nose in the air, but with Justin Timberlake’s panties in a bunch.
" I am of the FEW that have little to no interest in the glam and glitz of THE JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE. I am as much impressed with your singing career as I am with your choice in hired help!" Take that and the mini sized handprint on the side of your car, I thought gravely to myself. I expected the big bald man to protest, but was shocked to see him nod in what seemed like consent to whatever silent order Justin gave with his eyes. I dared to look around and see if suddenly an array of half crazed women collegiate had recognized the sultry star and were now flocking to him, but once again found the campus ground to be quite bare. Amazing, my life was, to be the lucky unfortunate soul to have stumbled upon this star. I was so undeserving, and so very unprepared. Deciding that I had more than out stayed my welcome in this dorkishly annoying situation I gave Mr. Timberlake a quick once over- I may be stubborn, bull-headed and beyond intelligence to be called a fan, but I was not blind. Satisfied, at least with the visible attributes of the man, I rolled my eyes and then left Justin and the nameless angry black man to continue about my day.
It wasn’t until I reached my dorm, and passed the first pop sensation’s poster, that it really began to sink in that I had just had an encounter with the Justin Timberlake. It wasn’t like a dream come true, nowhere near the fact. I began to look at it as a simple twist of fate. Whereas I spent most of my time completely ignoring the existence of pop and its predisposed culture, I was the one to stare it’s knight of armor in the face. So I looked like a complete fool and I even managed to handprint a Mercedes M class. Way to go Deag! My only saving grace, however, was that I totally disbarred any inclination that I Deagan Renee Phillips was in fact a fan. Not only could he have told that I didn’t like his music, but I made it quite clear in the context of my words that I disliked him and his body guard even more. So amiss all the crazy excitement that was due to follow his mysterious appearance on campus, I would forever remind myself that though the world may be fooled- I was not and I, if no one else, had let Justin Timberlake know that. I was quite content with myself, so fully enthralled with myself, that I somehow happened to miss the sudden gasps, shrieks and whispers that began all around me. I was two steps away from turning the corner of the hallway to my dorm room and realized there were several, if not the entire Rosewood Hall of female bodies blocking my way.
" What the hell?!" I said to no one in particular, and immediately gained all the attention of every pair of eyes crowding my way. Oh damn, I thought, I missed another one of those gotdamn RA meetings. Rolling my eyes, I shrugged off the high shrieked "There she is" and wondered what penalty I was going to face for having not showed to the floor meeting on time. This residence hall bullshit, really wasn’t my thing.
"Deagan Phillips." I looked up and recognized the angry voice immediately. What in the hell was Shaft doing here, I thought to myself as I stared Justin Timberlake’s body guard up and down. If he was the new campus safety, damn if I didn’t feel safe. " Come with me"
I was about to protest, but two things suddenly dawned on me. This was no RA meeting and the angry black man knew my name. This could only mean...
" Ohmigosh...JustinTimberlake!" there was a unanimous shriek of his name being shouted across the hall as I was bulldozed through I would say at least 20 or so big hard bodies. I finally caught my breath when I came face to face with Justin leaning against the side of my door, surrounded by nothing but hallway space. I noticed the bulk of security men in the opposite direction holding back just as many college boppers as the fleet of men I just came through.
" What is going on?" I demanded, like I made more money than even the puniest bodygurad on hand. I was really interested in hearing what he had to say for himself, but instead my ears began to pick up on several other comments being made throughout the blocked off crowd.
" How does SHE know him?"
" What does he want with her?"
" He dates black girls??!" If my eyes had doned the expression of confusion before, they were now several notches past curious and nestling deeply in the shadows of outright anger. I believe our marvelous pop star recognized this, or perhaps even he heard the comments. Whatever the case may be, he grabbed my arm and in one swift shuffle- swiped my I card to open my door and pushed us both inside. Was I surprised that my roommate was not there?
" Your roommate Amber, happily agreed to give us some privacy." Justin offered, flicking on the light. My he was just right at home, I thought to myself watching in amazement as he calmly strided across the floor and took a seat at my desk.
" What are you doing?" I believed it was only right that I keep up the pretense that I am in control here and would like to know what in the hell did he think he was doing. Whereas it might be the fancy of other girls to be locked away in a room with Justin Timberlake while other girls vied for his attention just outside your door, I would rather eat a snickers while drinking a diet pepsi and watching whatever horrible pretense of a show Tyra Banks had on that day. I believe it was to be about NBA wives and the players groupies, doesn’t that sound like a surefire tear jerker for Tyra this afternoon. What with Chris Webber and all? But, that is besides the point, what in the hell was Justin Timberlake doing here!
" Well, Deagen.." he paused, quite pleased with himself that he now knew my name. What an asswhole prick, I sighed inwardly. Folding my arms over my favorite AE hoodie, I waited for him to continue. " I wanted to return your id card."
" There is a drop box at the office. Or would that have missed all the appeal of screaming fans at either side of my door." I sneered, ripping my hat off and slamming the cotton object on my dresser. I new my hair looked a mess, falling behind me in tight un straightened black curls, but nothing would upstage the continent still growing out of my face. Nothing.
" I wanted to ask you something." I was now looking in the mirror, wondering why I couldn’t examine the small life forming on my face by myself without Justin heart throb staring down my back.
" Yes, I think Lance is gay." How was I to know, I would soon be proven right. That did produce a chuckle from Justin and an immediate glare from me.
" So..if you don’t mind me asking?"
" I do."
" How is it that you have thick black hair, light green eyes, and.." he had completely ignored my rude comment, and was now taking his eyes on a scenic tour of my - dare I say body. I wanted to be angrier than I actually was, more so because he wasn’t doing it in a sleezy I want to cop a feel way- but rather a more appreciative amazed way, and less because I was actually turned on by the fact.
" Is that the question you just HAD to ask?" I was stalling, beat me I’m a procrastinator.
" No, I was just wandering." he moved his eyes away sheepishly, and as I watched him look over my family photo gallery atop my desk. I realized he answered his own question.
" I’m half and half. Black and Italian." He took his time examining my photos and I felt some of the tension release itself of me, but anxiety was there to say.
" Nice." was all he said and waited 68 seconds to finally settle his gaze on me. I counted.
" Look, thanks for the card, and for the public scrutiny, but...."
" I’m starting school here." he said it in such a rush, I wondered if I heard him right. Was he actually saying that he would be attending class on a campus filled with pop lovers? Furthermore, what did it have to do with her? I waited, my natural knack for listening taking precedence over my need to be an ass. He obviously was trying to get something out. " I was wondering if..." he looked unsure of himself, and for a moment he seemed just like me-Excluding the gi-normous pimple and shapely female body. I unfolded my arms, and settled my hands on my hips. I was trying to give off the impression of encouragement, but could see how it could be mistaken for impatience.
" I was wondering....do you have to look so damn impatient?!" he was obviously nervous, a side of Justin Timberlake I’m sure noone gets to ever see. And I guess I wasn’t really helping with the sighing and the rolling of the eyes. But I was trying, just not hard enough. So I couldn’t blame him for the brief snap, and in return produced a quick smile and took a seat indian style on my carpet. The shag pink carpet my mother wouldn’t leave Wal-mart without.
" ok...go on." I smiled and he visibly relaxed.
" Ok..." he gave me a brief look for reassurance and I held the soft smile, amazed at myself for the sudden transformation, and he continued. " I never really did the high school thing. I mean I have my diploma and all, I just never did the going to school, sitting in class with students thing. And I was thinking...I love my life, I do. I love my career. But I want to just.." he paused, searching for the right word. I sat silently watching him, wondering what cruel mean kid fate was to bring this American icon into my life. I was the worse person he could come to for sympathy, frankly I didn’t see his life as being hard. He made millions, could take off his shirt and sing an off beat melody if he wanted and still get the dollars. I was lucky to catch the state deducting me twice for occupational tax. Yet here Justin Timberlake was, confiding in me about the hardships of being a star.
" I just want to be normal."
" What does that have to do with me?" I was curious, not angry anymore. I wanted to know what fascinated him about my life, which he had no idea about, that would have him coming to me with this kind of revelation. Just hours ago I was flicking the bird at his poster, and now I was here offering some version of consolation. I must say I’m not doing a very good job at it.
" You’re the first person I came across..literally, that didn’t scream her head off and demand my autograph." the way he looked at me, I couldn’t resist my heart skipping a beat. Why in the hell it did that, I could never explain. Thank goodness the heart was a concealed place.
" I don’t really care for you." I was being honest, although brutal at the same time.
" You don’t know me." his eyes bore into mine and before I could acknowledge that he had a point, I was brought to silence. I had no response, not even a quick and quirky one that I am so famous for. I had to tear my eyes away from him. Silence seemed to envelop us until a harsh knock on the door brought us back to reality.
" Resident Director to see you." What the hell Ms. Branum, I thought standing to my feet to open the door. Not much had changed outside except that now Ms. Branum stood there in a red corduroy suit with a frazzled look upon her face.
" Ms. Phillips...can you explain ALL of this." what a drama queen, I thought and opened my door wider. " Oh." was all she could muster, as she began to smooth out her suit. What a whore! Not really though, she was married with three chubby daughters.
" Hi, I’m Justin." I didn’t realize Justin had gotten up and was now standing behind me, but there he was.
" I know...is there..um...do you need some privacy..uh.."I was going to let her continue until she choked on her embarrassment, but I wasn’t that evil.
" Yes, by the way do you have any.." I leaned in for emphasis.. "condoms?" her face turned beet red and I could here Justin chuckle behind me. I was a bad bad girl, I should be shot.
" I..oh my..I..."
" Nevermind." I winked and then closed the door, turning to face Justin who was now bent over with laughter. When he recovered, he looked about as adorable as a baby puppy. About as normal as an average joe.
" And you think I’m the one causing you bad public scrutiny?" he lifted his eyebrow, offering yet another one of his award winning smiles, and settled back into my chair.
" Do you dare to accuse me of having a bad attitude?" So I was warming up to him, not completely ready for take off- but somewhere near the beginning.
" You. Bad attitude?" his eyebrows gathered together in a highly recognizable mocking fashion, as he shook his head vigurously. " Nawwwwwwwwwwwww"
" So if I say no?" I was not quite sure I bought his whole "I’m famous-just-trying-to be normal" Cinderella story. But I couldn’t say that I wasn’t still intrigued. Perhaps I could earn some sort of university credit if this facade turned out to be real.
"Then I’ve just completely embarrassed myself." he shrugged, his demeanor telling me that he didn’t by my feign reluctance for a moment.
"Wait a minute.." I looked over my shoulder towards my closed closet, then eyed Justin suspiciously. Without taking my eyes from the pop star I called out " Ashton!" I would be dammned if I was on a punk’d episode. There was no telling when he would run out of friends and use the average person as prey. Justin’s lips inched there way into a smile, his laughter showing completely through his eyes. I’ll be damned, this guy was for real. I breathed in, sure that I would regret this day for the entirety of my college career if not for the duration of my natural life. Hoping up and opening the door, to the never leaving crowd, I sighed in what appeared to be defeat.
" So you’ll help me?" his face lit up and for a moment I felt like offering my answer. I opened my mouth and smiled with my eyes.
" I’ll let you know." he had already started walking towards me, and without a moments hesitation I pushed him out the door. Closing it behind me, I thought of how much more simpler life would have been if I had just answered his question. But if you haven’t figured me by now, I am definitely complicated.
