My head is just about as foggy as the mirror is. I wiped the mirror with the towel before wrapping it around my waist. I look like shit, I feel like shit. If I had my way I would go back to sleep until my head was straightened out.
Obviously I cannot do that. There are very few days where I could just go back to sleep and today is definitely not one of them. It’s Grammy Day. I should be excited. Don’t get me wrong, I am excited. I’m nominated for three and I don’t have to perform so I can just sit back and relax. If I had to perform there would be a whole other pile of problems.
“Fuck!” I screamed after nicking at my fucking chin. I hate shaving. I hate everything today.
My mother is going to be here in a couple hours. That will make me feel better, she always does. Just having her here makes me feel better.
I heard a nock on the bathroom door and opened it to see Rachael standing in front of me. “Your uh,” she paused to sniffle, “your breakfast is on the way up and your suit should be here by one.”
“You look like shit,” she’s worse off than I am.
“I feel like shit.”
“Go back to bed.”
“I will, I just want to make sure you’re settled first.”
“I’ll figure it out, go to bed.”
She gave me a very thankful look and nodded her head before leaving. There is no reason for us both to feel like death. I managed to finish shaving without cutting off any more of my skin and made it out of the bathroom to find my breakfast had arrived. I grabbed a muffin of some sort before hearing my phone ringing.
“Hey Ma,” I answered with a mouth full.
“Hi sweetie, how are you?”
“I feel like shit, where are you?” she didn’t answer me, “Ma.”
“I’m stuck in Chicago. There’s a horrible snow storm, they say no one is getting out of here for at least 24 hours.” I felt my heart stop. What is with all these fucking snowstorms this year? I have been to my share of awards shows and my mother has been to every one with me. I realize that I am 27 years old and there is a time that I should cut the umbilical cord but now is not that time. I feel like shit and I need my fucking mother. “Justin.”
“Yeah,” I bit at my finger, “That fucking sucks.”
“I know sweetie, I’m so sorry. You know I wish I could be there.”
“That’s retarded. Why the fuck are you even in Chicago?”
“Justin, I know you’re upset but please watch the language. I had a layover.”
“What if I send a jet?”
“Sweetie, they can’t land. It’s not going to happen.” I took a deep breath. I really feel like my life is over, “I’ll be watching though darling, I’ll be cheering you on.”
“Where are you?”
“At the airport, I just found out I’m not getting out of here. I’m about to go find a hotel, hopefully there’s some rooms left.”
I nodded my head, “Go get a room, call me when you get one alright?”
“OK hunny, have fun.”
“Yeah, bye Ma.”
I was actually looking forward to the night with nothing to do. That sounds really loserish but we’ve been so busy I need to just lie down and relax. Maybe I’ll get a massage. I’ve never gotten one before and honestly; I’m not a big fan of a perfect stranger rubbing their hands all over me. But my bones are seriously aching. I think I’ll just stick with a long bubble bath. There are those Jacuzzi jets in the tub here.
We’re staying at the Millennium Biltmore Hotel down the street from the Staples Center. Everyone else is staying at their houses because they live in LA but since I don’t they decided to get me a hotel here. Justin is also staying here tonight, not because he doesn’t have a house but because the Grammy’s are tonight down the street and I guess its some kind of a law that if you’re going to the Grammy’s you have to stay at this hotel. Last night after dinner Justin and I shared an elevator with Josh Groban. I thought that was pretty cool. Justin wasn’t as impressed. In fact, Josh Groban was much more impressed then either of us. I don’t really see why.
I heard someone knocking on the door, not really knocking more like banging. A constant banging that did not stop for one second while I walked to the door. “God, calm down,” I answered when Justin walked right past me. He looks sick and annoyed and nervous as hell. I’ve never seen him like this before.
“You have to go, will you go?”
“What? Where?”
“The Grammy’s”
“What are you talking about?”
“My mom is stuck in fucking Chicago. I’ve never gone to a show without her.”
I kind of just stood there not really knowing how to react. I know he’s close to his mother but it is really bothering him that she’s not going to be there. “Don’t you want to take Rachael?”
“She’s sick.”
“What about Marty? Or Trace?”
“No, they’re not… around. Will you go? I just really want you to go.”
“I don’t have a dress,” I answered softly.
“I’ll get you a fucking dress Dallas, I need you to go, please go,” he looked me in the eye and gave me a very pleading look, “Please?”
I nodded my head because it’s not really possible to say no to him when he gives me that look. Plus the fact that he looks so lost without his mother I feel bad. I feel horrible actually. He looks scared to death. I’m not used to seeing him so diffident.
“Thanks Dallas, you’re a lifesaver,” he hugged me quickly before grabbing onto his cell phone. I guess I can cross off having a bubble bath. Although, I’ve never been to an awards show in my life and I will admit I’m a little excited. I’m nervous too though. What about my hair and makeup and my nails? I’m going to be on television I don’t want to look like the only girl that doesn’t belong there. “What size are you?”
“What?”
“She needs to know what size dress to bring,” he said as he held the phone between his ear and his shoulder.
“Four.”
“She’s a four,” he said into the phone, “Alright, hold on,” he laughed, “She wants to know your bra size.” Is he serious? Justin laughed at the face I made, “Here, talk to her. I’m going back to my room, bring my phone up when you’re done.”
“OK,” I answered to the closed door. He still seems abnormally nervous. I don’t really get it, he doesn’t have to perform or anything, it should be relaxing, “Hello?”
“Hi, Dallas right?”
“No, Veda.”
“Veda? Oh, Justin said Dallas.”
“No, it’s Veda, he’s just... dumb.”
She laughed, “OK Veda, I’m Michelle, we’re going to find you a dress. I just need your sizes, Justin says you’re a four?”
I nodded my head, “yes ma’am.”
“And your bra size?”
“34C”
“Alright Hun, I’ll be by in about an hour with some dresses.”
“Oh, ok thanks a lot Michelle.”
She hung up the phone before I could even thank her. This is insane. As I walked back to Justin’s room I seriously passed Michael Buble. He looked at me, I looked at him, and we shared a moment. I’m so out of my mind.
“Dude, I just passed Michael Buble in the hall.”
“Whoa, no way,” Justin answered with a very fake excitement.
“I love him.”
“You should have slipped him the digits.”
“I should have.”
He laughed before grabbing a piece of fruit from the cart of food, “When is she coming?”
“She said an hour,” I grabbed a piece of pineapple and sat down on the couch, “What about my hair and stuff? Should I try and make an appointment somewhere?”
“Nah, girl,” he laughed as if I’m a complete idiot, “They were coming for my mother, they’ll just do you instead.”
~*~*~*~
I sat in a chair with a lady painting my nails, one doing my makeup, and two men doing my hair. I feel like someone important. The dress that Michelle brought is absolutely gorgeous and I’m totally not one that’s big on dressing up.
My phone rang and they looked really annoyed that I was answering it, “Hello?”
“Are you ready?” I heard Justin.
“No.”
“NO?” he shouted with a chuckle, “I’m coming to your room in 20 minutes.”
“Alright, bye Justin.”
“Bye Dallas.”
I wouldn’t be surprised if my mouth dropped when I saw her. Holy shit, she is looking good. It’s not that I never knew she was beautiful, but she’s not one of those girls that is always dressing up and wearing dresses. But the sight of her in a gown with her hair done all I can say is Damn.
“Ready?”
“Yeah, don’t you look snazzy?”
“Well ya’know,” I shrugged and smiled, “You look… beautiful.” I probably should not have said that.
“Thanks J,” she smiled, “Your tie is just a little off,” she reached over and fixed my tie. I took a deep breath; I need to straighten my shit out quick.
“Thanks, are you ready?”
“I’m ready. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, a little. Thanks for doing this Dallas, really.”
She smiled instead of saying anything. I think I might be freaking her out a little. I need to chill.
“Should I just like… meet you inside or something?”
“Oh, hell no. You’re coming with me. I’m not walking down there alone, that’s the whole point.”
“Down the red carpet?”
Now she looks concerned. I nodded my head, “Is that a problem?” I asked with a laugh.
“No, I just… well I’ll just stand there in the back right?”
“Uh huh,” I nodded.
“OK. Are you all right? You seem really nervous.”
“I’m not,” I answered too quickly. I’m obviously nervous I don’t know why I’m going to pretend I’m not.
“OK,” she answered with a smile, “Be tough.”
“I’m not trying to be tough, I’m just not nervous. Unlike you, Dallas, who is sitting here tapping your foot like there’s no tomorrow.”
“Yeah, well obviously I’m nervous, I’ve never been to one of these before.”
“Just follow me, you can handle it.”
When we got out of the limo Dallas looked around like a lost puppy. Hundreds of flashes went off as we walked to the first interview. I’m not surprised, I’m sure they’ll have us married by the end of the night. I’ve never done a red carpet with a girl, not even a girlfriend and now I’m doing one with a female friend, it’s going to start a lot of shit. I don’t really care.
We were led to the first interview and they called Dallas over with me. I couldn’t help but laugh at how scared she looked.
“I’m here with Justin Timberlake, and who is this with you?” Juliana from E! asked.
“This is Dallas, she’s one of my dancers. My mother’s stuck in Chicago so Dallas stepped up last minute.”
“Your name is Dallas? That’s such an original name.”
“My name is not Dallas, it’s Veda.”
She looked between the two of us confused, “I thought you said her name was Dallas.”
“It is,” I answered with a smile.
“No it’s not,” Dallas gave me a death stare, “My name is Veda, Justin calls me Dallas.”
Juliana laughed, “OK, so we’ll call you Veda. You look beautiful Veda, who are you wearing?”
“Oh, thank you. I’m wearing uh… Zuhair Murad” she asked with a question in her voice. I nodded my head, she’s dying right now, she doesn’t like the attention.
“It’s beautiful. Are you two dating?” I love how they just jump right into it.
“No.” Veda answered way too quickly.
“Notice how quickly she answered that,” I said with a smile.
Juliana laughed, “I was going to say that, but I didn’t want to be the one to bring it up.”
“No it’s cool, just put me down like that on national television.”
“International television,” she corrected me.
“Oh, even better,” I answered while shaking my head.
“Oh, shut up,” Dallas laughed.
“So Justin you’re up for three?”
I nodded my head, “I am.”
“Do you think he’s going to win Veda?”
“Of course, I know he’s going to win.”
That caught me by surprise, not that she wants me to win but the way she said it.
“That’s so sweet, are you sure you’re not dating?”
“Positive,” she answered once again far too quickly.
“You should date,” Juliana said, they always like to play matchmaker.
“Really Juliana, you think?” I asked with a smile.
“I do, you’re adorable together. You look good together and you have that chemistry. Valentine’s Day is coming up, what are your plans?”
“I have a show, we’ll be working.”
“Oh, well maybe after the show, you know, that would be a good time to make your move Justin.”
She’s killing me here, “Thanks Juliana.”
“Maybe just some flowers you could send, some chocolate, well all like chocolate. I just want to be at the wedding, that’s all I ask.”
I looked over at Dallas and she looks like she’s dying so I decided now would be a good time to get moving, “Alright Juliana, it’s been fun.” Dallas followed me as we walked away, “You alright?”
She nodded her head, “How do you deal with that all the time?”
“Fake smiles, fake laughter, just fake everything.”
“Seriously,” she laughed, “It’s kind of obnoxious.”
I nodded my head as we made it down the rest of the carpet. I skipped most of the interviews, they’re annoying and my publicist isn’t around to make me do it so it all works out.
When we got inside I went right to the bar so hopefully Dallas could relax a little. She looks like she feels out of place. She doesn’t look out of place though, she fits right in. “Thanks for coming,” I said as we found our seats, “Seriously, I know it’s not your scene.”
“No, I’m having fun. I just feel out of place. It’s like everyone has their click and then there’s me,” she finished with a laugh.
“Nah, I don’t have a click either, we’re cool. This is the boring part, wait for the after parties, that’s where all the fun is.”
“No clicks there?”
“There’s always clicks. But we don’t need them, we’re our own click.”
