As I went to bed that night, all I could think about was how Justin must have been feeling. Their relationship had been very serious. Now he was about to start a solo career and the one person that knew exactly how he felt wasn’t there. Then again, that was nothing new. Britney had never put 100% into it. Justin, on the other hand, was always surprising her or calling after only 2 hours of sleep just to say hi. Anything that she asked of him was hers within 24 hours.
The next morning wasn’t good at all. Britney held herself hostage in her room until 11:30. When she finally opened the door, she seemed a little better than I had imagined. I decided to order room service, while Brit searched for a good movie. I made her stop at MTV just as the hourly news came on.
Why? I mean, I should have let her have her way and we could’ve continued to find a movie”but no; instead, a picture of Justin and Britney that had been torn in half flashed across the screen. In the voice over, Gideon Yago announced, “The royalty of teen pop have called it quits.”
I sighed as Britney began to cry again. For the next two hours we talked about the first time she had met Justin (“We showed up at the same MMC auditions and all I worried about was rather or not we would be on the show together”), the relationship, the pressures (“Everyone wanted this or that. No one stopped to think about me!”), and finally, the demise of it all. I have to admit, I felt pretty bad for her. Britney may be selfish at times, but she had never intended to take away from Justin. She had never expected him to walk out like that. From the very beginning, Justin had always been there to help with her CD promotions and such, but now, there was only one way to turn: me.
For the first time, I realized how much she did care about him. In her own way, she had really fallen in love with him. Then again, how could she not?
After another half hour of convincing Britney, we were ready to leave for more phone interviews and a final meeting to complete her latest CD. I drove my car with two bodyguards following us closely. Each interview was scheduled to last for at least 30 minutes and she was slated to do five. After the first one, I was rescued by my cell phone’s ring (a down loaded version of ‘You Got It Bad’).
“Hey.”
I immediately knew the strained, tired voice on the other line. “Justin, what’s up?”
"I was wondering…” There was a pause; almost as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue. “Do you think you could come over?”
There was no hesitation on my part. “Of course, just give me 20 minutes.”
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