Around 8:30, I snuck back into the hotel room and ran to my room to change. I was positive no one had noticed me leave last night. And even if they had, I’d say I was dealing with late night business, so I was covered for sure. Just as I set breakfast, via McDonald’s, on the table, the girls were waking up.

“I have one hella’ headache,” Josie yawned as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass. She walked back to the living room and flopped on the couch beside me. Swallowing her two Tylenols she smiled at me.

Everyone crowded around the coffee table, holding their heads and cursing themselves for last night’s indulgence. Never let it be said that Britney and her friends are anything but normal girls- maybe a little high maintenance, but normal none the less.

They also get hangovers. Britney, Nancy Lee and Liz stumbled into the room complaining that Josie had apparently taken the last two Tylenols. Being the personal assistant, I volunteered to pick some up. To my surprise, the guilty one offered her services as well.

As soon as we got in the elevator, my suspicions were confirmed: there was a motive to this little outing.

“So where did you run off to last night?”

“What was that?” I hit the Lobby button and went for the easiest route: playing dumb.

“Where did you go last night?” She promptly hit the button for level 10 and continued the interrogation. “After we came back to the room, you made a sneaky little exit.”

When I still didn’t answer her, she reminded me that she had 9 more levels to go through.

“I spent the night over a friend’s house.”

“And you felt you had to sneak out to get there?” She reached out to the panel and hit another button. “Tell me more about this friend; male or female?”

I sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. “Male. Are you happy?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she answered as she illuminated button number seven. “Who is he? I promise not to say anything to anyone else.”

“You promise? I mean, you have to be ready to take this to your grave.”

She chuckled at how serious I was. “Now I have to know. Who is this guy?”

“Justin,” I answered, breathlessly. Now, I’m not positive- I don’t read minds or anything- but it may have been the deer-in-headlights look I wore that made me look so guilty.

I tried to condense and explain the situation, but she simply smirked and added, “Sleeping with the enemy.”

Before I could defend myself, the door opened and we approached the front desk I was greeted by a young bellhop who was way too excited to be awake. After receiving the lifesaving medication, he motioned to a rack of newspapers and other periodicals. We checked them out, wondering what was going on in the real world. Unfortunately the tabloids and teen zines were already having a field day over last night’s confrontation.

While I would never condone what tabloids and gossip columnists do, I have to admit they were rather creative with the headlines. “Britney and Justin Dance Off”, “Celebrity Sightings Gone Wrong” and my personal favorite, “Brit and JT- Out of Sync?” were just a few examples.

When we arrived back in the penthouse, all of the girls were sitting around the T.V. except for Brit. One look at Suchin Pak and ‘the reported sightings of pop’s royalty” I knew this was gonna’ be a long day. The Tylenol was passed around and although I felt fine, I had a feeling that I would become well acquainted with that little white and red bottle before the day was over.