Wednesday, DEC 29, 1999

"We won our lawsuit, we won our lawsuit, we won our lawsuit."

Chuckling as he made his way towards the empty hotel bar, Justin couldn't help but roll his eyes as his friend's gleeful singing grew louder.

"They never seem to amaze me."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Jumping slightly at the voice, Justin turned his head to see the bartender-the attractive bartender-staring down at him with an amused grin.

"Uh, yeah, sometimes."

Watching as she gave him a shy smile, before a blush took over her naturally tanned cheeks, Justin couldn't help but let his nervous smile turn flirtatious.

"The names Justin."

"So, I've heard...what can I get you?"

Giving her a once over from across the bar, Justin's eyes twinkled at the possibilities, "How about we start with a phone number."

March 15, 2000 (Three Months Later)

"So, you're really leaving to tour?"

"Well, not really until May, but..uh-yeah, we're heading to NY next week. Y'know for the Album Release party, and..."

Sighing, Debra turned towards the fireplace, ignoring her tears, "I'm really going to miss you."

Nodding briefly, knowing he'd miss her as well, Justin moved his hands to her chin; tilting her head so she'd look him in the eye, "I know, but let's not talk about that..let's just focus on you and me. Just...just for one more night."

Blinking softly, she nodded into his hand. Letting him lay her down as they began to make that night their 'first & last'.

July 21, 2000 (Four Months Later)

"Justin, I can't do this anymore."

Inhaling as his tears began, he cringed at the thought of losing her, "Deb, don't SAY that. We can make this work...we've always made it work."

"Not..not anymore. There's too much at stake."

"Like what? What's changed in the last four months?"

There was a brief pause before he heard her barely audible words.

"Everything...I'm pregnant."

December 19, 2001 (A year and five months later)

"Did she get my package?"

"Each and every last one...you know, Justin, you shouldn't spoil her."

"I'm her father, it's her first birthday. You know, I've got a right to."

"I...is Britney with you?"

Sighing, he nodded through the phone, "She's sleeping right now. Why, did Kayla want to talk to her?"

"No, but I think you need to."

April 27, 2002 (Four months later)

"Justin, who are they?"

Sighing as he picked his phone up off the night stand, Justin began absentmindedly dialing his voice mail while half-listening to the girl beside him, "They who?"

"Them!" Britney said, in a voice two octaves lower than her normal high pitch tone; before Justin was greeted with a handful of pictures being thrown at his face. All of them of Debra and her..well, their daughter, Kayla.

Turning around, with the phone still in his hand, Justin didn't bother to hide the shock that was on his face, "Where'd you get these from?"

A flash of guilt washed across Britney's face before he was once again met with an angry glare, "It doesn't matter where I got them from. The question was: who are they? And don't tell me their just fans, because I know damn well you don't keep any pictures of those sluts around."

Justin didn't know if it was the anger of Britney calling his fans sluts, or the anger of seeing her throw pictures of his daughter, ones she no doubt found while snooping through his dresser drawer, that made him react the way he did.

"Get out!"

"What?" She half-shrieked, not having been prepared for this response, "What did you-"

"I said, get out. I can't..no, I DON'T want to see you right now."

Not moving from her spot across from him, Britney pointed a blind finger towards the floor, where the unfamiliar, to her, pictures still laid at the moment, "Is this because of her?"

Part of him wanted to inquire whether the her in question was the little girl in the photos or if the her in question was the mother holding the little girl, but as his anger rose higher, he quickly realized it really didn't matter.

"No, it's not because of her, it's because of the fact that I'm standing here talking to someone whose insecurities with herself got to be so bad that she had to go snooping through her boyfriend's private property. Acting like a bat out of hell."

"Well, if I didn't feel like you were keeping secrets from me than I wouldn't have to snoop around, now would I?" She retorted, which caused his anger to lessen up a little; knowing she was right. "But you know what, J. That's fine. You don't have to tell me who that little girl is. Or any of the other secrets you've been hiding from me these past two years. And you know why that is?"

Knowing what she was going to say, but still feeling like he wanted to hear it from her very own two lips, Justin shrugged, "No, why is that?"

Picking up her jacket off the hotel bed, Britney threw it on over her head, before answering him with a response that somewhat shook his world to the core. "Because, as of right now, you and me...we're through."

Taking one last glance to see if he'd stop her, Britney turned around; throwing her hair over her shoulder.

And just like that she was gone....leaving Justin just as she had found him a year and three months ago; brokenhearted.

April 29, 2002

"Hey Justin! The phones for you."

Looking up from his spot on the stage, where him and the rest of the guys were in the middle of sound-check, Justin looked off to the side where Anna, the guys hairstylist, was standing with his phone in her hand. "I'm sort've in the middle of something, here."

Rolling her eyes, she ignored the comment before making her way over to Justin; shoving the phone in his hand, "And does it look like I care? Besides it sounds important, they said they were from social services-although I don't know why'd they be calling YOU. Secret services, maybe. Social services that's-"

Holding his hand up so that she'd stop talking, Justin gave her a look that said 'I get the point.'

"Whatever," She retorted, before walking off the stage; mumbling what he could only hear as 'That's why Britney dumped your sorry ass.'

"Remind me why she still works here?"

The rest of the guys shrugged and chuckled at his comment, before moving towards the other end of the stage; giving their friend a little bit of privacy.

"Hello?" He whispered, after a second; making sure no one was eavesdropping on his conversation.

"Mr. Timberlake?"

"Uh-yeah," he responded, furrowing an eyebrow at the proper, yet unfamiliar, voice on the other line, "Whose this?"

"Hi, my name's Cathy Jones, I work with social services in Orlando Florida."

"Ooookay. Cathy Jones, if I might call you that. Not to sound rude, but is there a reason why you're calling me? I'm sure it's not to swindle tickets out of me..well, atleast I hope it isn't."

There was a brief pause over the line, before Cathy got back on the phone; her voice becoming much softer than it had been a second ago.

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Timberlake, I thought someone had already called you, and told you I'd be calling. I guess I was wrong."

Growing more confused by the second, the smile that was playing across Justin's face went away, and the biting bluntness that he was known for using when he didn't understand something, crept in, "Yes, you were wrong. And I have a sound-check to get back to, so whatever you need to say, do you think you could say it now in the next five minutes."

"Of course, Mr. Timberlake," Cathy said, switching back to her professional tone; an action which confused Justin once again, "I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but earlier this morning, around eight o'clock, Miss. Debra Wellson, mother of Kayla Wellson-your daughter-was involved in a fatal car accident."

Not expecting that to come out of her mouth, Justin's facial expression went from confused to shocked to disbelief.

"W-what are you saying? Are you telling me Deb is..she's...?"

"Yes, Mr. Timberlake. Miss. Wellson, along with the drunk driver who had crashed into her Saab, died shortly before being taken to the hospital after-"

"NO!" Justin screamed, getting the attention of his groupmates-who until now hadn't noticed the distress written across their friend's face, or the fact that he was slowly, but surely, dropping down to his knees.

"Justin...man, what's wrong?"

Ignoring his friends, Justin tightened his hand around his phone; feeling that it was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment, "This..you can't be..This has to be a joke.."

Sighing at the disbelief in his voice; having heard it from a lot of people in her field of work, Cathy paused for a minute, before answering his unasked question "I'm sorry, Mr. Timberlake, but this isn't a joke. And the reason why I'm calling you is to make plans for you to meet with me before the week is over, in regards of what to do with Kayla."

At the sound of his baby girl's name, anger shot through Justin; anger at the drunk driver for killing Debra, and anger at Debra for doing this to him and Kayla, "Where is she? Do you have her? Can I speak to her?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Timberlake, but as we speak she's being kept at a neighbor's house. One which she'll remain at until you can come to Orlando, and speak with me."

Nodding absentmindedly to himself, a sort've calm shooting through him as he did so; Justin knew what he had to do.

Looking back at his friend's-who were still trying to help him off the floor, Justin sighed before giving the woman her answer, "I'll be on the next flight there."

Opening his eyes as the flashbacks hit him, Justin pulled the crying girl in his arms closer to him, "Shh Kayla, Daddy's here."

Blocking out the soft cries of his baby girl for a second, he glanced over at the bedroom clock; noticing it was going on three.

Sighing, he could only think to himself:

This is going to be a long night.