and life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button girl,
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe, just breathe,
Breathe, just breathe.
Saturday, July 29
9:00 AM
The woman walked down the hallway, pulling the enormous cart in her wake. Her footsteps were muffled due to the plush carpet that lined the decadent hallway and the wheels of her cart floated effortlessly on the ground. Maria DeLorenzo had only been working for two hours but she was already exhausted.
Her four-year-old son was home sick with the flu but she had to leave him in the care of her thirteen-year-old daughter so she could come to work for the day. Her two older sons were busy working as well to provide for their family, her husband and their father was still in jail for robbing a store and stealing cars.
Fate had given Maria a challenging deck and she had been forced to deal with it since she was a child. Her life was filled with hard knocks and it seemed as if her children were quick to inherit the misfortunes that had fallen upon their mother. Her job as a maid for one of the ritziest hotels in the city managed to put some food on the table but everyone knew living expenses in the Tri-State area were astronomical and it was thanks to the Lord that Maria and her family hadn’t been turned out into the streets due to lack of funds.
But that day was drawing close and Maria was growing desperate. Not only had she been working a forty hour work week at the Carlton but she was bartending at a high scale restaurant by night, hoping her tips would put food in her children’s’ bellies and good clothes on their backs. But her supervisors at the hotel were growing anxious and aggravated with her inabilities to clean some of the rooms on the twelfth floor for the past week and if she didn’t straighten the room up now she would more than likely be fired that very day, and that was something she couldn’t afford.
She had heard rumors from some of the women working around the hotel that a few celebrities had been staying in the hotel for the past couple of days and the center of their camp was located on the twelfth floor. The thought of celebrities didn’t faze Maria, however. The Ritz Carlton drew in dozens of celebrities a month and, unless it was Antonio or Marc, she really didn’t care who was staying at the hotel.
But Room 1245 was proving to be a rather difficult place to clean. Every time she tried to gain access, the person staying there either told her to go away or a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign appeared on the door handle. Apparently the person living in 1245 didn’t care about getting his sheets changed or the cleanliness of his room because Maria had never been in there to clean up, and that irritated her. How was she going to do her job when someone was preventing her from doing it?
Well today was the last straw. ‘Do Not Disturb’ or not, she was going into that damn room and she was going to clean up. Her livelihood was at stake and she wasn’t going to let some obscenely rich snob have the opportunity to get her fired.
She rapped her knuckles on the door, “Housekeeping!” her voice boomed but there was no answer at all. Could this be her lucky break? She knocked again and repeated her greeting but found no response. Grabbing her all access key card, Maria swiped it through the portal and watched as the light flashed green, granting her access into the room.
Stepping in, she propped the door open and walked further into the room. It was one of the mini-suites and it was in such a state of disarray she wanted to cry. Empty mini bar bottles littered the floor and she could see the sofa had been overturned onto its back, the cushions spread throughout the room. Well, that was just perfect, it was going to take her all day to clean this place up.
Upon further inspection, Maria found wet towels on the floor and various articles of clothing strewn throughout the room. But nothing prepared her for the scene on the bed. Two figures were sleeping soundly, a young woman captured in the arms of an equally young man. It was easy to see what had occurred the night before judging by the clothes spread throughout the room and the apparent nakedness of the two people covered by the crisp white sheets. The maid stood there for a moment, watching the two people sleeping soundly, totally oblivious to the unwanted visitor that had stumbled into their midst.
But there was something familiar about the young man. She had seen him somewhere before and the name was tugging at the back of Maria’s mind relentlessly. Maria took a step back but stopped when her foot landed on something that had been thrown on the ground.
Picking up her foot, she saw it was a brown wallet. Bending down, she took hold of the wallet and opened it up, a fairly new driver’s license staring back at her. Looking over it, she saw the name jump out at her and she nearly dropped the wallet.
Justin Timberlake. Her daughter worshipped him and the band he belonged to. It was no wonder she recognized him, Maria had never been good with names. But the man laying in the bed was definitely Justin Timberlake, but she had no clue who the woman was. From her daughter’s incessant celebrity gossip magazines and non-stop chatter with her friends, he was apparently dating some blonde pop star named Britney Spears. And this girl sure as hell wasn’t blonde.
I smell a scandal! Maria thought to herself, her heart racing and the gears turning in her head. Turning around, she quickly rushed out of the room and back to her cart, grabbing her purse that was stored underneath the towels and toilet paper. Searching through it, she didn’t stop until she found what she was looking for, a disposable camera.
Maria kept a camera with her at all times because she never knew when she was going to have to capture a moment with her children. There had been so many times when she had taken her young son to a park and had taken his picture with the pigeons or sliding down a jungle gym. Cameras captured the essence of a moment and Maria was going to make sure she confined as many moments in that hotel room as possible. Magazines paid big bucks to put scandalous pictures in their magazines…but she knew it depended on the person’s celebrity.
She had no clue how famous this Justin Timberlake was nor did she know about his girlfriend’s fame. Maria was never one for the American pop music scene, she preferred to listen to Latino stations that were so frequent on the New York airwaves rather than immerse herself in American culture. No, she had a different plan and it would do well to set her plan in motion as soon as possible. She had to get these photos to the appropriate people, and fast. Money didn’t wait forever and she was going to make sure she cashed in before it was too late.
She took a few pictures of the sleeping couple, making sure she got some of the discarded clothing and the empty bottles of alcohol in some of the shots before she quickly exited the room, making sure her presence couldn’t be detected. Stowing away her camera and purse, she turned back towards the service elevator. She didn’t care if her supervisors fired her for leaving the job early. The way she saw it, she wouldn’t need work for a very long time.
Two hours passed before any movement was recorded in room 1245. Vivian had been having the most unusual dream of tangling limbs, panting breaths, and incoherent words tumbling out of relaxed mouths. She wasn’t sure what had happened but she was sure of one thing: Vivian Aldridge had the worst hangover of her entire life.
“Ugh,” she muttered clutching a hand to her throbbing head. It felt as if her head was an inflated beach ball and there was nothing she could do to deflate it. Keeping her eyes closed and protected from the throbbing sunlight, she sank deeper into her bed, letting the smooth sheets comfort her naked…
She was suddenly wide awake now, her eyes wide open, body facing the wall next to her bed. Why the hell was she naked? She never slept in the nude and she most definitely wasn’t going to start anytime soon. Her heart pounding, Vivian tried to relax herself and assess the situation. But her head was pounding to hard and her limbs were too sore. They were screaming at her for attention and all she could do was grip onto the pillow her head was resting on and close her eyes, willing for everything to go away at that moment.
But when her hands entangled themselves in the pillow her eyes flew open once more and she took a sharp intake of breath when she realized that this wasn’t her bed. Her cell phone wasn’t resting on her bedside table and the men’s watch hanging haphazardly on a drawer knob most definitely wasn’t hers either.
“What the hell…” Vivian whispered hoarsely to herself. She didn’t even recognize her own voice and she let her other hand travel to her throat, her fingers trying to massage the hoarseness away.
She was about to get out of bed but she felt something in the bed move around and then an unrecognizable voice mumbled in satisfaction. Vivian thought she could feel her heart skip several beats and her breath caught in her throat as the person next to her shifted his or her weight so they were facing inward.
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, what did I do? Vivian chanted in her head. The last thing she remembered from the night before was going over the couch with Justin, his burning kiss the last thing that ran through her mind before the inept fogginess of alcohol clouded her mind.
Sweet suffering Christ on the cross… Vivian thought to herself. They couldn’t have possibly…Catching her breath, Vivian slowly began her turn around to face the inside of the bed, her breath heavy and her heart pounding in her chest. Her eyes remained tightly closed and she felt everything in her body stop working when she felt the soft breath of someone else land on her skin.
It was now or never, all she could do was open her eyes and see who the person was opposite of her. But she didn’t want to know. All she wanted to do was go back in time and stop herself from drinking, stop herself from impairing her judgment. But there was no turning back now and with that thought in mind, her eyes flew open and rested on the stirring figure before her.
And Vivian did the only thing she could do: she screamed. She watched through clouded eyes as Justin opened his eyes, clearly startled that he was pulled out of his reverie. His blue eyes focused on Vivian and he too let out a yell of surprise, throwing himself away from her form, the covers barely clinging to his bare torso.
“Oh. My. God,” Vivian yelled in anguish as she found herself thrown into an impossible nightmare. She gripped the covers around her chest as she stumbled out of bed, Justin grabbing for any article of clothing or cloth that would cover the lower half of his body. His blue eyes were wide with shock and he was still yelling at the top of his lungs as he yanked on his boxers and flew against the wall, sinking down to the ground with his head in his hands.
Vivian’s form was crushed against the opposite wall, still holding onto the covers that created a sort of makeshift toga to cover her body. She was trembling all over and she almost fell to the ground due to the heaviness of her inflated head. Her feet made contact with several glass bottles and she looked down to find at least two dozen strewn across the room. Her eyes grew wide and she looked over at Justin who was now surveying the room.
“What the hell did we do last night?” he questioned and Vivian closed her eyes so she could prevent the tears from falling.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Vivian managed to gasp out as she brought a free hand to wipe a limp strand of hair out of her face. “Can’t you put two and two together and see what we did?”
“Vivian, don’t cry…it’ll be okay,” Justin said softly and she could hear him move towards her, awkwardly at first but he closed the distance between them nonetheless and his shaking hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing it comfortably.
“Don’t touch me,” Vivian snarled, “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again. I can’t believe this. I won’t believe this. I work for you Justin. I worked for you that is…”
“What do you mean ‘worked’ for me? You’re still working for me, for the guys,” Justin explained. She could hear the hurt in his voice but she didn’t care. There were many things she didn’t care about anymore and hurting his feelings was one of them.
“Do you honestly think I’m going to continue working for you after what happened last night?” Vivian questioned her defenses slowly tumbling down as she surveyed the disheveled room.
“Well the way you’re going on about it, it seems that you don’t remember what happened. For all we know, we didn’t do anything last night. We just messed around and then went to sleep…”
“Naked?”
“It happens sometimes,” Justin said lamely and she shook her head, trying to keep the wild tears from falling, “We didn’t have sex…” he stated but Vivian could hear the uncertainty in his voice and she stumbled past him, heading straight for the bathroom.
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Vivian stated, “I feel different now…”
“Sure that isn’t the hangover?”
“Yes, I’m sure it isn’t the hangover,” Vivian snarled before she stopped a mere three feet away from the bathroom. “Oh Jesus.”
“What? What is it Vivian, are you okay?” his voice was laced with concern and she could hear him walking towards her, but the last thing she wanted was any contact with him. Physical or emotional.
“I-I can’t remember. My first time and I can’t remember a damn thing,” Vivian murmured as everything started to fall. The defenses she had meticulously constructed to keep everyone out had managed to fail her. The stress from her New York trip with the band, the visit to her parents, the intense brawl she had had with her family the day before had finally won and it was all thanks to alcohol and sex “ the true lifestyle of a rock star. Her breakdown was complete.
She choked back heaving sobs as she rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it quickly. Vivian pressed her back against the door and slid down to the ground, using the corner of the sheet to wipe the flow of tears from her face.
Her first time had been ruined thanks to a night of drunken debauchery and her selfish need to escape the sorrows and stress her life. She had thrown care and caution to the wind last night and now she had to reap the consequences that came with it. But she couldn’t face him. She wouldn’t face him. He had taken something so special from her and now he couldn’t give it back and she couldn’t ask for it. A part of her was with him always and she couldn’t bear to think about that.
“Vivian, open the door please,” his voice begged on the other side of the door and she shook her head even though he couldn’t see her, “Look, I’m sorry things had to happen this way. Please, open the door so we can talk.”
“No! Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk about anything with you,” she cried hoarsely as she put her head in her hands and began to rock back and forth against the door, trying to comfort herself.
“We can’t change what happened, we can only move forward. And I’m sorry for what happened last night. But we can’t change it, Vivian. We have to accept it and move on,” Justin stated and though his words rang true with Vivian, she didn’t want to hear it. She wanted her denial and self-pity, not a voice of reason.
“Fuck off. I don’t want to talk to you right now. You have no idea what you’ve done to me, Justin. You took something from me and I want it back…I want it back!” she wailed as a fresh wave of tears overcame her.
“You can’t have it back sweetie. But I promise I’ll keep it safe with me, always…”
“Like hell you will,” she bit back, “Do you realize what you’ve done? You have a girlfriend Justin, break or not. If people find out about this, they’ll blame me…”
“Then nobody needs to know. We’ll keep it between ourselves. As far as I’m concerned it never happened,” Justin stated and Vivian pounded her fist against the door.
“But dammit it did happen! It happened and now I have nothing for me.”
“You do have something for you,” Justin yelled as he pounded on the door for emphasis.
“Oh really, and what is that?” Vivian responded sarcastically.
“Me. You have me.”
Justin leaned against the bathroom door, observing the dark materials that separated him from the girl on the other side. He could hear her ragged breaths and sobs through the door and he wanted nothing more than to help her stop. Each cry was like a knife twisting and turning in his gut.
Because unlike Vivian, he remembered the majority of what transpired the night before and he felt incredibly guilty that he could remember what had happened when she had no recollection whatsoever.
“Vivian, just open the door so we can talk about this, please,” Justin begged once more hoping she would open the door.
“No. I don’t want to talk,” came her muffled response and he sighed in defeat. She certainly was stubborn and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to get her to come out unless she wanted to.
So the hotel room was bathed in an eerie, awkward silence that Justin hated with every single dragging second. He stayed where he was by the door and didn’t bother to pick up the garbage that polluted his surroundings. If he touched the empty bottles that had thrown them into this makeshift hell then it would become a horrible reality, and Justin wasn’t ready to face that, at least not yet.
Vivian started to cry again on the other side of the door and Justin could almost feel the embarrassment and confusion that was emoting from Vivian. He did feel guilty about running behind Britney’s back but she had practically broken up with him the night before but she had asked for a break and as far as he was concerned, he had done nothing wrong.
But why did he still feel so terribly guilty?
Vivian’s crying came to an abrupt halt and Justin’s interest perked when he heard her move around in the bathroom, her movements a mystery to Justin.
“Justin?” her voice squeaked out and he found himself pressed against the door, trying to hear the words that were being whispered to him.
“Are you okay?”
“Justin…were we safe?” her voice was filled with dread and premonition as Justin stood there on the other side of the door wondering what she was talking about.
“Were we safe?” she questioned again and he could only stand there in bewilderment at her question. All he could do was stand there in silence as he tried to make sense of her question through his muddled head. He was about to ask her what she meant when the sudden ringing of his cell phone screeched its demands for attention.
Begrudgingly, Justin left his position at the door and hurried towards it. Recognizing JC’s number, he picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear, not really wanting to talk to anyone aside from Vivian.
“What?”
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” JC joked and Justin could feel his willingness to comply with jokes and good natured people was extremely limited that morning, “Do you know where Vivian is?”
“She’s with me,” Justin stated simply, “She’s sick,” he added on and he heard JC shuffle the phone around a bit before he replied.
“I knew she was working too hard. She puts so much into her work and now she’s made herself sick,” JC muttered and Justin sighed loudly wondering if JC’s call actually had a point.
“Was that the only reason why you called me?” Justin asked acidly.
“No, no. Melinda just got in a few minutes ago and she wants us ready in the lobby by one o’ clock. That’s in half an hour. I’ll tell her Vivian needs the day off to recuperate, she deserves it after the week she’s had.”
Oh you have no clue, JC… The two said their quick goodbyes and Justin turned around to head back towards the bathroom when he noticed that the door was open and Vivian was standing in the doorway, her face puffy and swollen from crying.
“Viv…are you…”
“Were we safe?” she asked again, her voice hollow and yet her eyes were a fireworks display of uncertainty and unmistakable fear.
Were they…what the hell was she talking about? Then suddenly the meaning of her words crashed into him like a semi, almost making him take a step back.
Oh shit.
He didn’t need to say anything. She could see it in his eyes. They hadn’t taken the necessary precautions against the consequences of sex and for all she knew, she could be carrying the terrifying outcome of that consequence within her right now.
And that was something she couldn’t bear to think about.
“Oh my God,” she squeaked as she brought a trembling hand up to her open mouth. Her world was crashing down around her and she couldn’t even begin to describe the surge of emotions that were coursing through her body at that exact moment.
This is it. I’m having a nervous breakdown… Vivian thought to herself as another wave of tears began to make its way down her already tender face. It was impossible for her to look at him at that moment. She didn’t know what to think when her eyes landed on the young man who was still a child in oh so many ways. Part of her wanted to hit him over and over again while another part of her wanted to rush into his arms and hear comforting words. For once in her life she wanted to be treated and comforted like a child and not have to deal with the adult responsibilities she had been forced to deal with her entire life.
But now those responsibilities were suffocating her and Justin being in that room, apologizing repeatedly for something he had no control over was not helping. So Vivian did the only thing she could do…
“Get out,” she said simply as she tried to control her already hap hazardous emotions.
“Wait, what”
“I said get out. Just get your things and get out of here. I can’t think with you apologizing and looking at me as if I were some head case. Just get the hell out of here,” Vivian said as she walked towards him, her brown eyes steadfast and filled with stubborn determination.
“You can’t kick me out! This is my room!”
“I don’t really care. Just get your stuff and leave,” she yelled her voice trembling so much it was a wonder she got her words out at all.
“You don’t want to talk about this?” Justin countered as she continued to walk towards him. Feeling the pressure from the woman, Justin began to back up, grabbing whatever articles of clothing he could get his hands on.
“No, I do not want to talk about anything with you. How many times do I have to say it? Get your stuff and get the hell out!”
“Fine!” he bellowed, “Deal with this shit on your own. I’m done!”
“Good! Get out!” Vivian roared back and she watched as he grabbed whatever he could gather before he marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
She was alone now. Alone in a room that she hardly remembered being in. Her left foot brushed a few empty bottles of alcohol and the pressures of the week came flooding back to Vivian, slapping her in the face as if to challenge her to fight back.
I can’t she thought to herself, I’m done fighting. She walked back towards the bed and lied down on it, clutching the covers to her chest and letting her head rest against the pillow that he had been sleeping on. Taking a deep breath, she winced in pain at the horrendous headache and aching limbs a night of drinking managed to inflict upon her until all she could do was stare at the wall in front of her and cry.
*Ritz Carlton Hotel Lounge*
8:00 PM
JC sipped the small glass of Merlot fondly as he surveyed the room around him. Hotel staff had promised the band that they would keep photographers, autograph hounds, and the overly obsessive fans out of the lounges and guestroom floors “ their comfort an important issue for the hotel.
So here he was, sitting in one of the lavish booths in the hotel lounge, sipping on a glass of wine while he waited for Melinda to join him. He had missed the older woman, their tour mother, during the week and he wanted to have a chance to chat with her before the chaos and never ending buzz of their tour started up again. Most of it was trivial banter and information on their upcoming weeks, but tonight he had a different topic of discussion with the Head of Special Programming.
He wanted to discuss Vivian’s strange behavior over the past week or so. He was sure today wasn’t the result of being sick. JC was almost positive Vivian had suffered from a nervous breakdown or something of that kind. Justin wouldn’t discuss what was wrong with her during the day (“She’s sick, okay. Just drop it.”) and JC hadn’t seen her since yesterday afternoon. Something was definitely up and he was almost one hundred percent positive that it wasn’t because she caught a bug.
Justin was a different story. He had been listless and totally out of it the whole day. The excitement he had had for the event earlier in the week had vanished out of thin air. He didn’t answer their questions about what was eating him and he was extremely stand offish about anything that was being asked about Vivian or his whereabouts after the party the night before. Even his game was out of whack. JC had never seen Justin play such a terrible round of basketball in his life. But the Daze still beat the Knights.
The little bastard.
Still, JC was still overly confused about their actions and he wanted to get to the bottom of it before one of them really hurt themselves. A few minutes later, he saw the familiar form of Melinda make her way over to his booth. Ever the gentleman, JC stood up and gave the woman a hug, not returning to his seat until she sat down across from him, looking up at him expectantly.
“Good to see you again Jace,” Melinda said with a smile as a waiter stopped by to take her drink order. Once he had left, she focused her attention back on the man sitting with her, “So what’s up?”
“Well, I haven’t seen you in a while and I thought we could catch up,” JC explained as the waiter returned again to drop off her drink. Good service, “How was the funeral?”
“It was nice. I don’t know what my sister is going to do with two little kids but she’s strong, she’ll manage,” Melinda commented, “It looks like you survived this week.”
“Barely,” JC said with a furtive smile, “It definitely got hectic around here, but we pulled through. At least some of us did.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well have you seen Vivian at all today?” JC asked and Melinda shook her head before she looked towards the entrance of the room as if expecting Vivian to waltz through at any moment.
“No. Justin said she was sick so I decided not to bother her. According to you and the other guys she’s been running herself into the ground ever since she got here.”
“She has. Well, at least I think she did. I mean after the meeting with her parents…”
“You met her parents?” Melinda asked incredulously. It took JC some time, but a while later he had reconvened the story to Melinda who was listening to him with such rapt attention he was sure no distraction on earth could stop her from listening.
“Wow,” she stated simply once JC had finished, “No wonder she is the way she is. That’s terrible…”
“Yeah, and right before the conference for the Challenge she had to go visit her family again. That was the last time I saw her. Justin was with her early this morning and said she was sick. I bet you anything she had a nervous breakdown about something or other.”
“Well I tried going to her room, but she wouldn’t answer the door. Her phone is turned off…” Melinda said with a trying sigh, “I really hope she’s okay…”
JC was about to reply but someone cleared their throat directly behind him. Turning around, his eyes widened in surprise as a middle-aged woman walked to the side of their table, a look of triumph registering in her eyes. He had never seen her before in her life but judging by the state of her dress and the slight slump in her shoulders, this was a woman who had lived a hard life and was now hell bent in making a change.
“Can I have a word with you?” the woman asked the pair in a heavy Hispanic accent.
“Sure, but if you want to have anything signed…” Melinda stated but the woman held up a hand to quiet Melinda in mid sentence. JC cast a wary look in Chicken’s direction. She ignored him for the moment, her focus completely trained on the woman before them.
“I don’t want anything signed. You’re Melinda Bell, the Special Program Coordinator?”
“Yes…” Melinda said cautiously her face taught and lips pursed together, “Your name is?”
“My name isn’t important. Not yet at least. This is for you to look over,” the woman explained as she put a manila envelope on the table, Melinda’s name scrawled on the front, “when I leave. I hope you’ll take this seriously Miss Bell, as I’m not joking. I expect to hear from you by tomorrow night.”
And without another word, the woman turned around and sauntered out of the lounge, looking as if she had just hit the jackpot. JC watched her go, his mind swimming with questions as Melinda took the envelope in her hands and opened it.
“Holy shit,” Melinda breathed, “I don’t believe this.” Silently, she passed the envelope to JC who quietly opened the envelope and looked at its contents.
The matter inside the envelope was enough to make his jaw hit the floor.
