Chapter 6
I was sitting on the couch, waiting for Justin to get home with my dinner. Of course, he had totally forgotten our empty refrigerator the other day, and left me home, on my day off, with no food. Typical Justin. In his own world. I bet he’s got some new girl. Or maybe he’s just off in his own world.
I was flipping through the channels, trying to get my mind of my growling stomach, when I heard the garage door open. It seemed like forever until Justin strolled in, like nothing in earth’s entirety was wrong. A simple smile on his face, two paper bags in his hands, and a swagger in his step. I almost laughed, but I was too busy getting up to inspect the contents in the two paper bags.
“Hungry much?” he asked, as I grabbed the Chinese food containers and dug in, without a plate.
“Just a bit. You know, when I don’t eat all day because my peanut sized brain of a brother forgets to pick up food for an empty fridge, I normally get a little famished.” I joked, stuffing my face with as much as it could take.
“Throwing out the insults. I’d rather hear you chomp your food like a cow, then get insulted. Just eat.” he laughed, emptying the last of the bags, and throwing them out.
“Fine by me.” I shrugged.
“Listen, I’m going out tonight, so save some of this food, ‘till I can get to the grocery store.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, suddenly a little more interested in the whereabouts of my brother than the appetizing food in front of me. Since he got out of the hospital, he hadn’t gone out that much. Of course he was still the same sociable Justin Timberlake, but lately, he had kind of strayed away from going out. Why? I’m not sure.
“I’m just meeting up with somebody.” He replied dimly. He turned the corner, and I heard him walk up the stairs. Way to be vague, Justin. Way to make me even more interested than I was before. Way to be annoying.
My curiosity increased further, as the afternoon went on, and Justin stayed upstairs. As 6:30 rolled around, I couldn’t stand it. Where was he going? Who was he going with? Was it a male? A female? A new sex partner? A friend? In general, we never discussed our social lives very deeply, but normally when he told me he was going out, he included the place and the person. Not just an “I’m just meeting up with somebody.”
My wandering thoughts we interrupted as the chimes of the doorbell rang, and Justin’s feet shuffled around quickly upstairs, the first noise from up there in a while.
I jumped off the couch from the living room, and ran full speed towards the door. As I reached the foyer, I heard Justin coming down the stairs as fast as he could, as if he would reach the door before me.
And in fact, he almost did.
I felt a hand grab my elbow and swing me around, making me face the opposite direction. I turned around to see Justin running towards the door, just like I was seconds before.
“No you don’t, Justin!” I jumped on his back, and we both fell to the ground. In any other situation, I would have tried to hold him there, but the second we hit the ground, I jumped up and turned the doorknob as fast as I could.
Nothing could have surprised me more as Angela stood on our front steps, as I flung the door open. With a small smile on her face, she said ‘hi’ quietly. Her smile grew bigger, as she turned her attention to my brother behind me. It must of looked strange both of us standing there breathing hard. Me looking at Angela like she was an alien, and Justin looking at her as if he’d wished she wasn’t there at the moment.
I knew Justin had this look on his face, because after a few seconds of looking at Angela in disbelief, I looked at Justin in pure confusion.
Trying to regain my composure, I said, “Hello Angela.”
She waved slightly, and started to look a little uncomfortable.
“Well, um, Angela, would you mind waiting out here for a second, while I go talk to Laney about a few rules.”
“Why does she need rules?” Angela laughed.
“Because she needs them. Never can tell with siblings these days.” He replied, putting a fake smile on his face. He closed the door, and dragged me forcefully back into the living room.
“What is your problem, Justin?” I yelled. Other than not telling me about going out with a fan, or even contacting her, he humiliated me, by making this girl think I needed some stupid rules like a 12 year old staying home alone for the first time.
“What’s your problem?” he asked back, letting go of my arm.
“What do you mean? Why didn’t you tell me you were going out with her?”
“Because it’s none of your business.”
“How is it NOT my business?” I inquired.
“Because my YOUNGER sister has no involvement in my social life. She does not need to be concerned about the women I go out with, because she doesn’t affect whether or not I continue or even start to date them. That’s why!” he retorted.
“So my opinion has no part, whatsoever, in whether or not you would date somebody?”
“Maybe like .1%. But it definitely doesn’t influence anything.”
“Glad to know you care what I think. And also, glad to know I can trust you to tell me things. I normally don’t care about who you go out with, and you know that, but I care when you start to go out with YOUR FANS! When did this start happening?”
“When did you start to notice? I could have been dating fans for years? Why is it you start with Angela?”
“Because she gave ME a fan letter, I was asked to give you. That’s my job. I meet more freakin’ fans than you do!”
“You know that’s not true.” He said loudly, “We’ll talk about this later. I have somewhere to be. Somewhere more important, and somewhere I’d much rather be.”
“Argh… fine. Go have fun with your groupie.” I shouted as he turned out of the living walking back towards the door.
I kind of felt bad, considering I didn’t really know Angela. Maybe she was really nice, but still, my sincere side was being overpowered by my blinding anger for my aggravating brother.
Where did he get off telling me it was none of my business? His business was everyone’s business. That’s what he gets for becoming famous. I mean, when did he start becoming so secretive? I know he’s tried to do it with the public, but with me?
I don’t even know why I was overreacting. I’ve never cared who Justin had dated, unless it had any effect on me. And this relationship probably would have much effect on me either, just like the other ones. So why did I care?
I honestly have no idea. But let me tell you, I spent plenty of time thinking about it. So much time that when I heard the front door open and close, I turned my head towards the clock and read the time.
10:52 P.M.
Yep, that’s right. I spent about 4 hours thinking about it. 4 hours, sitting in my same spot, on the couch, contemplating what could make me care so much that now Justin has a possible girl in his life. I never got the chance to really figure it out because it was the last thing I remember, before waking up in the morning, still sitting on the couch.
Now, I won’t lie and say, the thought never, once, popped up again in my mind since that night. In fact, I couldn’t get it out of my mind for the next week. Other than going to work, transportation provided by Justin, and coming home, transportation again provided by Justin, I was by myself, in my room.
I never once saw my brother’s face, with the exception of the transportation bit, and a few peaks through my bedroom window, when he was departing with his new one and only. Angela.
I’ve never been so alone. I’ve never spent so much time by myself. It seems as though no one even noticed my personality change. Even Brenda, my only true friend outside of Justin’s people, hadn’t talked to me much while I was in my slump. The week seemed to zip by anyway. Some nights I seemed to lie on my bed and stare at the ugly popcorn ceiling, or some nights I would subconsciously cry myself to sleep. You know when you cry, but you, honestly, don’t know why?
Well that was me. I felt the tears coming down my cheeks, and I recognized my stuffy nose after crying for a while, but I never once felt the true emotion of my sadness. My tears just seemed to freely fall, in the midst of my staring at the ceiling. Maybe I was thinking about things that made me upset, and sad, but was never really there. My mind was off in its own place for a long time. It hardly ever came back to reality unless a customer at the store seemed to want to bug me.
You may think this is incredibly weird, and odd of someone who has a bad relationship with her brother, but I guess he effects more than I thought. Would I ever think to tell him this? No. Not at all.
But by the way he avoided me, I thought maybe he knew. Maybe he heard me crying some nights when he snuck in the house. Maybe he wondered why I would stare out the window every time he drove me to work. Maybe he would look at my bedroom window as he drove away to meet Angela, and think ‘What is she doing? Why is she acting like this?’. Or maybe, I was just getting my hopes up, wanting some attention from someone. Wanting something to be about me, because when you live with Justin, nothing really is. I can’t blame him fully either. He’s famous. My whole life has mostly been about him and his dream. Frankly, I never even got the chance to find out what my dream was. I was too busy following my family, who were all chasing Justin’s dream. To this day, I still have no idea what I want to do, or what kind of major I would want to study in college. If I ever even got into college.
Sometimes I wonder why I’m making myself feel so bad, and so unfortunate for what’s going on in my life. But think about it. Think about my life. Think about how many girls would kill to live in Florida, in a huge house, with Justin Timberlake. I’m so lucky, yet the way I feel about my life is pathetic. And most times, that makes me feel pathetic.
But don’t feel sorry for me. I’ll have to pick my life back up again anyway. Why you wonder? Because my brother has to start promoting his new album, with his band mates. Their first in 4 ½ years. Since Justin has little trust in me, at least that’s how I see it, he takes me on the road with him. And since he is my only direct family member, I am brought on tour with him. Like a little suitcase. I go wherever he goes. Easy and compact. There if you need me, and no trouble if you don’t. When I go on tour, I most times, end up being some kind of access backstage. Meaning I get swarmed by fans, who recognize my relations to the band.
So, now, night after night, when I’m still in my room, I slowly begin to pack some stuff in my luggage, aware of my long trip from home. Every night I seem to get some stuff done, before heading to my bed, and beginning my routine of staring, crying, staring, crying, and the whole time, not realizing that late at night, someone is coming home, and checking up on me. Me and my pathetic life.
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