There it was again.

Maybe if she kept ignoring it, it would go away.

No, obviously somebody was very persistent and wanted to see her that morning. An extremely bleary eyed Renee sat up on the bed and began rolling her head on a very stiff, sore neck. That was to say nothing of her cramped up shoulder and arm. Apparently she had fallen asleep over the magazine she’d been reading; she hadn’t even been by the pillows, so she had been lying outside the covers at the foot of the bed all night. No wonder she hurt. Still, it had been very informative. Apparently her TV persona in this reality was exceptionally perky, while in her written up interviews she was more insightful and deep. Whatever, she expected that some kind of publicist probably fed her half those answers anyway.

“Alright I’m coming!” She yelled, as the banging on the door got progressively louder. Padding her way across the living room. She reached the door and yanked it open to find Justin standing the other side of it, immaculately clad in combat pants and a sweater, looking her up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhh, don’t take this the wrong way baby but you look like shit.”

“It’s early, I didn’t sleep good and you woke me and everybody in a ten block radius up with the damn banging on the door. What do you want?” Okay, she was bad in the morning. She was sure Justin’s Renee had been bad in the morning too. It wasn't a crime to be grouchy when you were tired.

“For you to actually be ready to go when I come pick you up for breakfast. One of these days…” He sighed before turning to the burly man behind him. “You mind waiting out here Mike while I go force her into some clothes?”

“Just make sure that this time you’re actually getting her in to clothes and not out of them. I ain’t got all day to wait around for your ass.” Mike replied pointedly as Justin flipped him the finger and shut the door in his face. Yet again Renee grimaced. It was beginning to appear that they were a highly sexed couple. This disturbed her on two fronts: one, she hadn’t had herself pegged as such a wench, and two, that would mean that at some point, he would probably expect her to sleep with him. The kissing was bad enough but sleeping with a guy she barely knew? While having to pull off the pretence that she had been sleeping with him for three years and was familiar with… well… him.

“Come on, Ren, let’s go get…”

“OWW!” She screeched as he gripped her bad shoulder. She hadn’t expected it to hurt that much.

“Jesus Christ woman don’t make me deaf! Are you okay?”

“Ahh…” She hissed, glaring at him before remembering herself. She had to be nice to him. She had to spend the whole day with him, again. If what Claire said was true and she couldn’t go back to her own life, she was going to be spending a lot of days with him, so learning to be nice might be an idea. “I’m sorry, I just slept in a really weird position and now everything hurts.”

“Seriously baby, you don’t look so great.” Justin tenderly tucked a lock of hair back out of her face. “Were you up late?”

“Kinda.” She confessed. Glancing at her watch, it told her she’d had a grand total of three hours’ sleep. “But we gotta go rehearse, right?”

“Right. But…” Gliding rather than moving, he was suddenly behind her and his fingers were kneading into her shoulder. The first contact really hurt and she was about to protest but then he really got to work and not only was it feeling better it was starting to feel really good. “Rumour has it if we get this thing down this morning, he’s gonna let us take the whole afternoon off.” She could hear the wicked grin in his voice and the seductive tones coupled with the massage were starting to make her wonder if really this gig wasn't going to be so bad. “And I’m thinking of all the things we could do in an afternoon off.”

“Could there be food?” She asked – after that one nice little ‘mmm’ moment she’d been dumped right back in ‘oh god he wants to have sex with me’ land. “And lots of it?”

“I think I could manage taking you to lunch.” He pressed his lips to her neck a couple of times before finally ceasing the rubbing motions with his hand and beginning to push her towards the bedroom. “If you promise me you’ll be washed up, dressed and ready to go within ten minutes.”

Justin made to follow her into the bedroom and she was quite happily letting him propel her movement (it saved her the effort) until she got into the room and saw the huge pile of tapes and magazines and knew there would be questions. In the middle of the doorway she stopped, forcing him to crash into her back. Turning, she pushed him back a couple of steps, barring him entrance to the room.

“Fifteen and you got a deal.”

She scooped up her research material and quickly shoved it in the bottom of one of her many suitcases before running into the bathroom.

***

“Claire? Claire!” Renee called out, fearfully watching her door all the while so nobody could surprise her this time. The last thing she needed was to be caught talking to herself, the people around her already thought she was on some weird little trip.

But she had a few things she wanted to discuss with her little spirit guide. Justin was firmly on the list. She figured even if Claire couldn’t give her some great cosmic answer, she had been her best friend for more than half her life and could at least be of some help. He was really driving her crazy. From what little time she’d spent with him so far, he seemed to be nauseatingly good as a boyfriend. There were little silly whispers in her ear and hugs and hand holding and all the rest of it, and that would be just great except for the fact that when it was a perfect stranger behaving that way to you, it was freaky and awkward and uncomfortable and even kind of annoying. Though she did kind of like the kissing part, admiring his technique on a purely objective basis. She just didn’t know how she could fast talk her way through the fact that she was supposed to have a three year history with him and she didn’t even know where they’d been on their first date or when his birthday was. Although come to think of it she could probably pick up a magazine and look the birthday up easily enough. That wasn’t the point though, she felt like a big fat fraud, like she was deceiving him. Which she was - in all technical senses, she was deceiving him. Renee was pretending to be someone that she wasn’t. It was the same as stealing somebody else’s ID and trying to get a passport with it, except this was even worse because she was literally trying to be this person.

On top of her raging boyfriend issues, she’d had yet another interesting experience today. Fresh from her absolute disaster of a rehearsal yesterday, she had been dreading coming back to the dance studio. It had been kind of nice to discover how limber and toned she was, and how moving her body was suddenly a mystical event. Everything felt fluid and easy and natural and even good. It was a feeling she remembered having when she was younger and in dance classes but obviously those extra few years had really added something to it because it was like a drug now, a really potent narcotic. That was all very well, but in terms of ability her mind was years behind her body and it had made things difficult. Honing the movement and remembering the sequences was the problem. She’d begun picking it up and making less of an idiot of herself – the choreographer had been pretty hot on her once he realised how badly she seemed to have lost it – but she was still nowhere near learning the whole routine. Yet this morning, she and Justin had entered the room, and Jason had come over to say hello and ask how they were doing and all the rest of it. And then he had put an arm around her shoulders to hug her and suddenly the world was black and white and she was standing in front of a mirror dancing her butt off. To the same song they’d worked on all yesterday, except she was actually good at it and knew what the steps were. And then she was back in the studio again, Technicolor, standing there looking blank while Jason and Justin talked over her.

And apparently the significance of this was that she had got into position to start the song and suddenly she had the routine down pat. Inexplicably knew what she was doing. Jason had practically jumped for joy on the spot, obviously putting the previous day down to a fluke or some off streak. Of course that had all fed back into her Justin issues when the choreography had required them to get close and she’d had to writhe and grind with the guy while he had his hands on her in an over familiar fashion. Maybe her mind and heart didn’t know Justin but her body obviously did and there had been tingles. There had also been something that she hoped was a gun in his pocket slightly pressing into the back of her. The whole experience so far though had been freaky and mentally taxing and she could use somebody to vent to right about now. Plus she wanted the whole weird flashback thing explained to her because if she was going to zone out like that again she wanted some warning.

“Claire? Claire!” She ventured a little louder. Still nothing changed. “Clara?” No, not even the childhood nickname was going to help. Apparently Claire couldn’t be called or summoned; she would just show up when she felt like it. Renee was just going to have to wing this one on her own.

That was not particularly convenient.

***

“Honestly, you’d think she’d never been shopping before.” Justin commented to Mike in awe as he watched his girlfriend of three years coo over some pair of stilettos in a store window.

“Renee? Come on, you know she’s like Miss World Shopper. Every consumer minute is precious.” The bodyguard commented. Technically, he was an employee of Justin but the fact was if you were looking after Justin then you spent half your time looking after Renee too. So he knew the woman pretty well. And anybody who knew the woman even a little knew that she was a serious shopping addict. Though he had to concur with his charge on that one, she did seem particularly enthused today, exclaiming over everything. There had also been a few funny reactions over price labels that he had found amusing. Renee was one of those starlets who had got out of the habit of even checking prices, she normally just handed over her credit card, so to see her face drain of all colour over a thousand dollar price tag – which by her standards was fairly reasonable – was hilarious. He wondered if she had been on the phone to her mother again, he seemed to recall some similar shopping trip a while ago where she complained she felt guilty spending after her mother had lectured her on saving.

“You know what, fine, if I’m annoying you that much you pick the next store. Then you can’t complain about it.” Okay, she admitted it, she was on kind of a shopping high but Justin had led her straight into all these designer stores and she’d barely even touched anything for fear of marking it and having to spend her entire college fund on it – and then she had remembered she was a celebrity now and lo and behold, she’d opened her wallet to find a multitude of platinum cards. So what if she’d gone a little nuts in Gucci?

“Oh come on baby, you know this trip was for you.” Justin slid his arm around her shoulders, placing a kiss on her cheek, and she could have sworn she saw another flash go off. Or maybe she was still seeing spots from the last mob of paparazzi they’d run into at the restaurant. She’d just been welcomed to the newest part of her life – the press. Honestly, she had her hair scraped back in a ponytail and she wasn't wearing the most chic outfit she could have, she was just walking down the street but still they kept snapping away. Good job they had three bodyguards surrounding them. “I’m glad you’re having fun melting your credit cards.”

“Well I have kind of been dictating our route here. Go on, you pick.” Renee admitted, feeling brave enough to put an arm around him in return. It had certainly been an interesting afternoon, getting to know him while trying to pretend she already did. So far he didn’t seem like the worst guy in the world. He was funny, though she wished he’d quit swearing every other sentence. And as far as she could gather, she was pulling off the act because while he’d made a couple of frowns when she had ‘forgotten’ something she really should have known, he didn’t seem to be putting it down to anything but absent minded distraction. Her only major slip up had been asking about the rest of the *NSYNC guys. Apparently she was not going to be meeting her big crush JC any time soon because the group barely spoke to each other. Oh well, it was probably best her new alternate reality boyfriend didn’t see her trying to molest his fellow band member. Whatever, he had looked at her extremely oddly, even like he was annoyed with her for asking; she’d had to back pedal and start up on a thing about being concerned he was still feeling bad about it. It had got her out of the hole, even though she had felt astonishingly guilty when he’d started pouring his heart out on the matter.

“Alrighty then…” Justin started looking up and down the street, looking for their next target. His eyes hit a familiar store and a grin spread across his face. “I seem to recall we haven’t graced the lovely ladies at AP with our patronage for a while.”

Renee’s heart sank when she looked around and the only store she saw with those initials was Agent Provocateur.

“You want us to go underwear shopping?”

“Well we went shopping for everything else already.” He scoffed before waggling his eyebrows at her. “You like buying your nice little lacy things or whatever and I like watching you try them on - everyone’s a winner.”

“Except the bodyguards who have to stand by the door and miss all the fun.” Dre retorted, reminding the couple that they were not alone.

“Look man I told you already, keep your eyes and hands off the goods ‘cause she’s mine.” Justin playfully slugged his guard in the arm. He held open the door for Renee whom had never been underwear shopping with anyone but her mom and sister before and who positively saw the photographer this time. Blushing crimson, praying to God for deliverance, she stepped into the store.

The bodyguards took up their position by the front door as the sales people (who seemed alarmingly familiar with the pair of them) immediately exclaimed over them and led them towards the newest lines and politely but firmly kicked all other customers out of the boutique. Renee nearly died of horror when Justin had pointed to a display of whips for sale, grinning suggestively. It had taken her a whole three minutes to realise that he was only joking, and then a further five to recover from the shock he’d given her. She’d already had to hold him off earlier by claiming that her bad night’s sleep had been worsened by the dance rehearsals and that she was too sore. She was amazed he’d accepted it so readily. Most men she knew would push their luck, or at the very least complain about the whole thing. Then again, she surmised, from the looks of things he was probably so used to her being willing and eager he could only assume she was being truthful if she made excuses.

Actually, that was probably a little unfair when she thought about it. He’d bought her lunch. He’d then gone without being asked into Starbucks and got her a mocha frappuccino. Happily, both famous and normal Renee shared their taste in beverages it seemed, but even so she thought it was cute how he didn’t have to ask. Then Justin had graciously and without complaint followed her into every clothing store possible, spending only minimal amounts of time in the men’s department. Yet for some reason all she could think of when she looked at him was some hormonal time bomb just waiting to jump her. She guessed she’d just never been with any guy long enough to get that comfortable about such things; it was certainly interesting watching him peruse racks of lingerie without any hint of the gawking teenage boy in his face. He kept pointing out stuff he thought she’d like. It was all a little lower cut and more transparent than she was used to but having had to thoroughly search through her closet and suitcases, it wasn't like he was pushing the limits; apparently she already owned this kind of stuff.

“Ooh, what ya got?” Justin asked as he noticed the growing pile of things she had collected in her hands without actually realising she was doing so. She took a glance down and was relieved to see she’d just picked up a few matching sets and a pretty innocent looking negligee. God help her still slightly crimson face if she had picked up anything more racy. Pulling them from her hands one at a time, Justin delivered his verdicts. “Nice… very nice… you better not be wearing that under any white shirts baby or you and I are gonna have problems… okay we have to get that one.”

“We?” She snapped back to attention. On the bright side it was a distraction from the blushing and the slight change of tack allowed her to look him in the face.

“I figure so far I took my girl shopping and let her pick up the tab and that ain’t right.” He placed an arm around Renee’s waist and pulled her towards him so he could drop a kiss on her upturned mouth. “Plus if I’m buying I figure that gives me a vested interest and you have to let me pick.” His voice took on a childish, devilish sing- song tone. “You wanna go try them on or what?”

“Umm… might as well.” She gulped, looking not entirely enamoured with the idea.

“You know those bras look a little small…” He pulled out a tag and looked down in surprise. “You do realise these are like two sizes too small baby?”

“They are?” She looked down puzzled, seeing her size on the tag… except of course that her usual size didn’t allow for breast implants. Wait, two sizes? She was a D cup? More to the point, Justin Timberlake knew her bust well enough to know her size and be able to spot by sight underwear that was too small? Silently, she once again cursed that stupid little piece of onyx and whichever idiot it was that made it magic. She wasn't sure how many more of these little revelations she could take – yet there had to be a lot more coming. “God I really wasn't paying attention. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that mocha.”

“Guess not. Well, come on, get moving girl, get the right ones and go change.”

Justin watched her do so and then followed her to stand outside her changing room, frowning the whole time. He knew he hadn’t seen her for a month previously but they’d kept in touch by phone as usual and she’d seemed fine. Renee had been her usual, giggly, bright self: occasionally a little grumpy or bitchy when overworked but otherwise business as normal. Yet he’d got here to see her and though he couldn’t put his finger on it, something was different. It was like her mind was elsewhere, even in her kiss. She forgot the silliest things, she spaced out at the weirdest times, and it was like half the time she didn’t even know where she was. And if his Renee was anything, it was a woman capable of absolute single-minded concentration. And maybe he was dreaming but he was sure she’d been looking hard enough at the underwear to be able to read the labels and realise she had picked up the wrong size not once but four or five times. And for another thing, why was she taking so long and why was she not modelling for him like she usually did?

“Ren? Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah.” That was a bold faced lie. Renee was staring at herself in the mirror and not recognising herself and it scared her. She’d spotted neatly hidden surgery scars under her breasts. She could feel her ribs if she applied just a little pressure. And she was wearing these skimpy little things and feeling incredibly exposed, even in front of the mirror. What was she going to do when she had to walk out half dressed in front of God only knew how many people at the VMAs, let alone when she had to spend the night with Justin, which she knew she couldn’t avoid forever? This body… it was nice but it wasn't hers and she didn’t know what to do with it, how was she going to do this?

“You coming out or what?”

“Why would I do that?”

Was it just him or did that sound less of a tease and more of a serious statement? “Because we go through this every time we’re in here and you always end up showing me so get out here. You know I’m only gonna see it later anyway.” Justin tried to kid but it came off flat. What was up with her? Normally she couldn’t wait to rile him up, she just loved getting him hot and bothered when they both knew this was not the time or place and then sauntering back off to get dressed.

“You know what, babe, I really don’t like this stuff.” She ventured nervously, trying to sound light. “I don’t think I’m in an underwear kind of mood.”

Justin opened the door to the cubicle and she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Well it all looks good to me.” He shrugged. Not that he was checking her out or anything. Well, he was, but more to the point it was an interesting little reaction she’d just had. She looked nervy and lacking confidence. He had always told Renee that her confidence was the sexiest thing about her and obviously it was true because there was nothing the slightest bit sexy about spying her in her underwear when she looked miserable and unable to hide it. “So I’m afraid I’m gonna have to insist we buy that and the negligee too because if memory serves correctly you owe me a favour and I think that’s just the outfit for it.”

“Huh?”

Again she looked blankly at him and Justin had to fight to let his face remain neutral. What was with her today? They’d only talked about this on the phone the other day and she’d seemed to remember the promised lap dance extremely clearly then. He didn’t like this. Whatever trip she was on, he didn’t like it. She kept crossing her arms over her stomach and hunching her shoulders over and not looking at him. Why? He was Justin, her Justin. They’d got past this long ago yet suddenly all the comfort had vanished and she was acting like they’d barely known each other five minutes. Where were his usual hugs and kisses and ‘I love you’ and the smile and the silly jokes? Why was she acting like they’d never done this before? In the scheme of things he didn’t much care if he got a lap dance or not but he really did care about where his usually confident, happy girlfriend had disappeared to.