Summary: Sometimes, it just isn't meant to be. But that doesn't make the feelings go away. Love doesn't always happen. Does sacrifice ever help?
Rating: PG-13
Categories: Short Stories
Characters: Justin Timberlake
Genres: Romance, Comedy, Angst
Warnings: adult language
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 03/27/05
Updated: 04/24/05
Sacrifice by lroberts
Chapter 1: Friendship Sucks
Author's Notes: As I carted our food to the booth, I noticed Beth and Jill whispering fiercely. I knew what this was about.
Sighing, I plopped down opposite, and lightly picked up a French fry, twiddling it between my fingers. I felt my friends’ stares on my lowered eyes.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I looked up sharply.
“What?” I asked, annoyed. Why did they have to do this in public?
“Sammy’s got a cru-ush!” Jill taunted, jokingly.
I sighed. I was right, again.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” I mumbled, suddenly very intrested in the ingredients on the ketchup packet.
Beth snorted.
“C’mon, Sammy. We’re your best friends. Everyone knows you like him. Stop denying it."
I never deny it. I just…choose to answer vaguely.
Rolling my eyes, I replied a terse, “whatever,” grabbed my bag and food, and headed for my car. Who needs the awkwardness?
You see, I’m a make-up artist for the Justin Timberlake “Rejuvenated” tour. That’s where my infatuation began. We started off friends, but he’s just so damn endearing, you know? Pretty soon, I found myself waiting outside his dressing room, ready and willing to kiss his feet if need be. I know, I know, I’m a pitiful excuse for a woman, but you have to understand. This is Justin Timberlake.
I started to change. I knew it. Justin knew it. He started throwing me wicked curve balls. He’d say he really liked me, and then he’d roll his eyes and leave if I sat down next to him. Basically, he thought he could treat me like crap. And the sad part is, he could. Can.
So now, I sat in my car in the McDonald’s parking lot, wondering if everyone on the pay roll for this tour knew I had a crush? Probably. I giggled like a rabid teeny-bopper every time he told a joke; flirtingly insulted him; hell, once I gave him a back massage because he said he couldn’t reach an itchy spot.
When Justin isn’t being an asshole, he’s being awkward. We used to talk together like teenage girls, but now he mumbles monosyllabic answers and hurries in the opposite direction. Do you know how much I feel like crying when he does that?
I know what I have to do. Granted, it’ll probably kill any small chance I ever had with him, but I hate knowing that he’ll never reciprocate those feelings. It’s like trying to ride a bike that has broken chains. I’m not going anywhere.
Pulling out my cell phone, I dial the number I spent an hour memorizing.
“Hello,” he said, with that beautiful voice of his. I almost melted into the seat. “Hello?” he asked again.
“Oh, uh, sorry, Justin. I was spacing out there. It’s Sammy.”
I visualized him gulping. I can’t be that unappealing, can I?
“Oh, um…hi.”
Running a hand through my curly hair, I took a breath.
“Um, Justin? I called you because…well. Um, you know that I like “ um, used to like you, right?”
He hesitated. Oh no, he thinks I’m asking him out! I rushed forth.
“Well, I was just calling to say that, like, I don’t like you like that anymore.” Liar. “It was one of those star struck moments, and I hope we can be friends like we used to be.” He isn’t going to buy it. Please see through it, Justin. I want to like you. I don’t want to have to pretend.
“You don’t like me anymore?” he pouted.
Oh yeah, I forgot. Male egos are very difficult to work around.
“Oh, pfft, you’ll survive.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “I will.”
You idiot.
Wincing, I decided to finish this conversation up so I could go cry in my pillow and drown my sorrows in a three-pound vat of Haggen Daz.
“I have to go,” I said.
”Kay,” he chirped. “Talk to you later, Shizzle.”
Oh my god, did he want to give me a stroke? He’s doing this deliberately.
“Um, later, uh, Nizzle,” I stuttered back, using my own term of endearment for him.
After hanging up, I banged my head against the steering wheel until my eyes crossed.
Even though I was saving our friendship, I would probably drive myself into the ground in the process. Every time he commented on the size of some girls butt, I would have to make some sarcastic comment and pretend I didn’t care. When inside, my heart would feel like it was about to fall out of my ass.
It would take a while, but I was pretty sure I’d be able to delude myself into thinking purely platonic thoughts about Justin Timberlake, but until then, I had a feeling there were going to be a lot of holes punched in my walls.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
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