"Justin, what's the sound on the new album going to be like?"

The young man leaned down, closer to the mic, "It's alittle bit edgier. Still R&B Hip-hop but the basses are dirtier. They're harder."

The chatter started once again and more flashes went off as Johnny pointed to another reporter who was raising his hand.

"What made you chose Kanye West as your producer instead of the Neptunes?"

"Well, I have worked with Hugo and Pharrell numberous times and I wanted to do something alittle different, spread my wings alittle bit. I wanna grow and change my sound and develope myself as an artist with every album."

A soft murmur moved over the room and Johnny pointed again.

"Last question."

"During the MTV Video Music Awards, when your ex-girlriend Britney Spears was kissing Madonna, your expression was, well, expressionless. Can you tell us what you were thinkin at that moment?"

Justin's head began to throb instantly and he wanted ever so much, to be able to shoot daggers with his eyes at the man. Didn't they understand the point of being expressionless? It was so that people didn't know what was going on in your mind. Ofcourse, being Britney's ex, the camera's had panned to him after the kiss with Madonna. And knowing that they were looking for some look of excitement, or jealousy, or anger or whatever, he gave no reaction at all.

You give no reaction when one reaction is expected, that way the ball is still in your court later and you can say whatever you want without anyone knowing any different. That, and he thought it was pretty lame. The media always played into whatever publicity stunt she planned. Everytime an album wasn't doing great or a tour wasn't selling well, she took off her shirt or pulled down her pants and they fell right into it everytime. Her album would be back at number one and her tour would sell out in a matter of minutes.

No, if she wanted a reaction from him she should have done something like completely tounged the older woman, or even better, Christina. No, they should have licked eachothers faces, or even more, eachother's cleveage, or maybe even crotchs. Yeah, now that would be hot.

"That's her career and her thing and she can do what she does," he responded simply.

He smiled to himself, happy with his vague responce.

'Now twist that into me being the bitter ex, bitch,' he thought.

"That's all for today, thank you everyone for coming. Please grab a press packet on your way out."

Justin was hurded off the stage by the ever present Eric, and into the back hallways of the hotel. His days were filled with events like these: press junckets, radio interviews, this, that, and the other. He'd been asked the same twelve questions over and over again so many times that he wasn't exactly sure where he had been and where he hadn't.

"Where to now?" he asked no one in particular.

There was the entourage of the typical eight people around him. Manager and/or manager's assistant. A personal assistant, the assistants assistant, his publicist, clothes stylist, hair stylist, make-up artist. There was Trace, security, and some random people he didn't really know. They were strangers who were there for three days, then disappeared for a week or so, and then were back again. He had no idea what they're actual purpose was, but he did remember hearing someone make a joke about how he looked like he just walked through the mall and told random people to follow him so he looked important.

"We're going to the MTV offices. They have some things to go over with you about the new video."

Justin meerly nodded, wanting the day to be over with.

The group stepped through the metal double doors and instantly the screaming began. Girls with body glitter and large blue signs with obsene, yet humorous sayings written on them. Some were crying against their friends shoulders and some were trying to jump the police barrior yelling, 'Please just let me touch you. I just want to touch you.'

Then there were the flirts, who were trying to seem as though they weren't fazed, thinking that that would get them noticed. People assumed that he was so annoyed with females falling all over him and he was really just looking for the girl in the crowd who didn't give a damn who he was or how much he had in the bank, which was true. But he was almost positive that the girl he was meant to be with wouldn't be there, because if she was that would mean she knew who he was, and cared, on atleast some level, about what he did and who he was. See, they cancel eachother out.

As usual, off to the side, were the friends who had been forced against their will or guilted in some way to coming. Mixed in were the girls that were just to shocked to see him and did nothing more than stare, for fear that no matter what they did, they'd look stupid. Didn't they know they looked stupid anyway? It was weird just having someone stare at you with the 'deer in headlights' look.

None of them fazed him anymore, and he offered a nod and a wave before climbing into the van waiting before him. It was old, the glitz, the glamour, the fawning and pawing. The noise was annoying, but he didn't nessacarily want to go back to him hotel room either. There it was silent, and lonely. Perhaps that's why he was always going to the clubs. That and there were hot, legal girls willing to fight to the death for alittle of his affection, or better yet expose a body part while saying something nasty. Yeah, he wanted that girl that didn't care about his fame, but still, he was a guy. He had his sick side aswell.

"Dude," a popcorn kernel hit him on the forehead, "Snap out of it."

He shot a glare at Trace, who grinned and went back to eating. Justin flippped him the bird and turned to Mark, his assistant.

"Why are we going to MTV again? You're not going to try to sneak me on to TRL again are you? Remember the last time you bastards did that? I still have the scar from that girl who flipped out."

"We're not going to MTV Studios, we're going to the offices. They just wanna talk to you about some of the scenes from the 'Downtown' video."

"So bascially you want me to re-edit the whole damn thing," Justin tossed the paper he'd been given on the table.

"No, there's just a few specific scenes that we feel our viewers would find offensive."

"Your viewers live for this shit," he defended, "You think we don't pay attention to the top songs, the top 10 video count downs? People act like this is dumb and that's degrading, but they check it out everytime it's on TRL."

"Justin, we understand your point, but there's a limit to how much MTV's willing to take on. We feel that this goes beyond those boundries. The way these girls are displayed-."

"We're just dancing."

"Your hand is up their skirts," he motioned to the TV behind him, that was playing the aforementioned video over and over.

"It's a video! And it's not like it's showing anything. And if I recall correctly, the last time I turned on MTV, there were 7 rap videos showing worse shit than this."

"You're not a rapper Justin. That's a different category."

"That's bullshit."

The man at the head of the table became frustrated, and rubbed the top of his shinny, bald head.

"Justin, either the video gets edited or it doesn't air on MTV. That's the deal."

Justin leaned back in his chair with a shrug, "Edit it yourself."

The man looked to Johhny, who nodded, assuring him that the video would be edited as requested. Justin know of the silent agreement going on over his head, but he was going to ignore it. No way was some TV station going to tell him how to express himself, or what his fans could and could not take.

But then, MTV was a major TV station, owned by a much larger and powerful corporation, and owner of several smaller ones. If they turned down your video, it was possible that it would never be aired anywhere else in the country. If he was going to continue the success of Southern Style, he was going to need them.

"Now that that's out of the way, we have a business proposition for you."

"You have a proposition for me huh? Well I have a video for you, wanna trade?"

Johnny nudged him with his elbow. He was only being difficult because he could and MTV wouldn't try to put him in his place. He was responcible for a chunk of their audience and he knew it. One of the perks of being Justin, was you pretty much got what you wanted, and when you didn't you threw a fit. Girls thought it was cute.

"MTV wants to offer you a reality TV show," Justin's ear perked up at that. MTV wanted a 'The Justin Timberlake' Show?

"We're planning on calling it 'Senior Year'. The main idea is, you go back to high school. We pair you up with a person who's in the last semester of their senior year and you mirror them. You go to their classes, you do their activities. They live their life normally and you find out what it's like to be in high school," the man handed he and Johnny slim packets laced with details.

Justin stared at the man for a moment.

"Are you... are you kidding? You're joking right? You want me to go back to highschool?"

"Yes. We think it'd be really good for your career. Lots of people have had success because of reality shows. Look at Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey. They're touring all over the world, Jessica's album was re-released, she's got book deals, sitcoms, movies roles. Right after the Osbournes aired, Ozzy's new album went to number one, his single was in the top 10, Kelly's was in the top five. Carmen and Dave, who were pretty much forgotten by main stream, were on 13 talk shows this week, and the Jane's Addiction tour sold out faster than it had the past three times they toured."

"You think I have a failing career? That's why you want me to do this?"

"No, but we know you want the ultimate superstar status."

"Who said-?"

"All superstars want to be the ultimate superstar. Especially with both JC and Chris working on albums, you'll have competition for that position."

He knew that, and as much as he loved his brothers and wanted them to succeed, the buisness side of him did view them as the enemy. Especially with people always saying that while he was arguably the looks of Nsync, JC was inarguably the voice of Nsync.

"Look, those guys aren't competition," he said, "I hope they do well. I hope they sell the shit outta those albums and go down in the record books for it. I'm not afraid of them."

"No one said you were Justin. Why don't you take some time to think over our proposal and we'll talk soon."

"When would he need an answer?" Johnny broke his silence.

"In three days."

"Why so soon?"

"We need to begin production in order to start airing it. With the album dropping soon, we're sort of pressed for time."

Johnny glanced at Justin, who discreetly shrugged his shoulders, and stood up to shake the MTV rep's hand. Goodbyes were said and the group met up again in the waitingroom and made the long trudge from the 13th floor down to the car garage.

"So what's up? What happened?" Trace sat down next to Justin, across from Johnny, and to the right of Lynn.

She immediately pulled on his ear and moved him to another spot, anywhere but between she and her son, whom she hadn't seen in nearly a month.

"They offered me a TV show," Justin replied, his face burried deep in one of the packets.

"Are you serious? That's fucking awesome," Lynn gave him a motherly look, "I mean, that's great. When do you start?"

"He hasn't excepted yet," Johnny added.

"Why?"

"It's twisted," Justin responded. Then he laughed and said, "Listen to this: Mr. Timberlake will be expected to keep up all grades and his graduating GPA will be made known to viewers of the show. So I basically have to pass these classes or they'll tell on me?"

"Sounds like," Johnny nodded.

"But look honey, you'll be attending all Senior functions and activities, including prom.You always talk about missing your Senior prom," Lynn pointed out, one hand subconsiously running over her son's head.

"And you'll be making six figures off of it," Trace was leaning over, glancing at Lynn's copy.

"I think it could be a good opportunity for you. It'll make you seem more excessable to the public, what with it putting you in a daily routine that alot of your fans can relate too," Johnny said and Lynn nodded her head in agreement.

Justin looked up to find the three pairs of eyes staring back at him.

"You guys can't be serious. You actually want me to do this?"

"Justin, I think it's a really good idea. You can't buy the kind of publicity it's going to give you. Especially after that Janet thing."

Justin glared at his long-time manger.

"Justin, honey, I know you were always alittle disappointed about not finishing high school like everyone else, missin' all the parties and such," she continued rubbing his head comfortingly, "This is a chance to do it, you don't get many opportunities like this."

"Do we know anything about who the person I'm paired up with will be?" He hadn't read anything about it in the packet.

"Well, I do, but you as the artist aren't allowed to know any of the details. I can tell you they've narrowed it down to three people, all small towns where there won't be too much media attention."

"Why don't I get to know anything?"

"Because it's part of the show. They're throwing you into this situation where you know no one and you know nothing. But I promise you they're good families and you have nothing to be concerned about."

Sure Johnny could say that, no one was trying to shove him into the unknown for a long period of time. Justin chewed on his lip and finally let out a sigh.

"Alright, I'll do it."

"Are you sure?" Johnny pushed, "It would mean giving up your life for four months and living someone else's. You read the part about limited phone calls?"

That caused another sigh.

"Yeah, I read it."

"And you'll still do it?"

"Yeah I'll do it," he ran a hand over his face, "But I better get seven figures outta this."

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