He closed his eyes and hoped that when he re-opened them he would be able to see again. He hoped he’d be able to see his friends, his four brothers whom he’d spent the past ten years of his life with. But when he finally did open his eyes all he saw was black.

It had begun as a normal day, well normal for him, or what he’d become accustomed to. Get up, shower, change, hit the gym then head for the studio to record the new album. He never made it to the studio that day.

He should have listened to his mother when she told him to forget buying the bike, but he had been stubborn and didn’t listen. He never listened when he wanted something. In this case, that something had been the bike, so he’d brought it, now he regretted it.

He didn’t see the truck coming, then again he couldn’t really see anything, and he’d been going too fast. He had been hit by the rear and dragged a good five feet before he noticed the pain in his head. He hadn’t understood it because he’d definitely worn a helmet. But as the doctors explained, sometimes, even the best of helmets couldn’t help.

Now here he was, in hospital, hurt and wounded in the worst was possible. Here was the most loved man in the world, blinded by fate, here was Justin Timberlake.

The call about the accident had come in mid-morning and for Johnny Wright that was the time of day when everything was haywire in the office. But when he picked up the phone he hadn’t expected to hear what he had.

“Hello?”
“Mr Johnny Wright?”

“Yes, this is he. Who is this?”

“I’m Fanny Lee from Orlando General.”

“What does…”

“Sorry Mr. Wright, but to get straight to business. Do you know a Mr. Justin Timberlake?”

“Yes, he’s a client of mine, I’m his manager. Why?”

“Well, I’m sorry to inform you but there’s been an accident….”

“What do you mean an accident?” Joey Fatone asked minutes later.

“He was on his way here on the bike when he was hit by an eleven foot trailer truck,” Johnny explained to the other four boys trying not to break down himself as he told them what had happened.

“Oh God, is he okay? Say he’s okay,” JC Chasez, Justin’s best friend, asked with a panic in his voice. Johnny smiled weakly and placed a hand on the younger man’s arm and the boys all knew what he would say next wasn’t good.

“He’s alive,” Johnny began, “But he’s been badly injured…”