They met in the August of 2002. Justin would say it was the Fall of 2002 that brought them together; Eve would say it was the Autumn. Justin would say Eve had coldheartedly ruined his pants; Eve would say she had unintentionally had a little mishap concerning Justin’s trousers. Justin would say asking for her cell phone number was either the smartest or the most stupid thing he had ever done; Eve would say her mobile phone had been the key to the beginning of their relationship.
Justin often compared London to New York, perhaps just on a smaller scale. So many ethnicities and races and different classes lived harmoniously in a little plot of land; there were the high scale millionaires living in uptown apartments in the middle of the town, along with beggars sitting on the cold sidewalks of the city, desperate for spare change. One street would contain the cries of a cockney market stall seller, shouting his bargains in the air, when just two streets away sat the upper class Londoners, drinking their tea and eating their scones at afternoon tea.
A twenty one year old Justin Timberlake walked down the street with a bowed head, trying his best not to make eye contact with any of the Londoners hurriedly brushing past him, their eyes transfixed ahead of them to their destination. His blue and white Pony cap sat at a jaunty angle on top of his short curls; a pair of necklaces were laced around his neck, one turquoise with a black pendent hanging off of it, the other a simple beaded white.
There was a swagger in his step; one which said that he was naturally confident, but also made it clear he had not yet grown out of the every teenaged boy’s irritatingly self-assured phase where they think they’re nothing short of wonderful. Smooth hands were jammed into the pockets of his jeans, which hung low on his slim hips, as though one tug would bring them to a crumpled heap on the floor. His defined shoulders were covered with a matching Pony cotton track jacket that had been artfully zipped up midway to still leave a glimpse of a black T-shirt. He was a walking advertisement of how fashionable men in their twenties dressed; casual chic that had taken hours to perfect, eventually to ooze the ‘I just threw this on’ look.
Had people taken the time to look at him carefully, they might have questioned why his head was bent so low, or why he was wearing a baseball cap when the sun was covered by a blanket of clouds, eliminating the necessity of a hat. They might even have laughed because, although he looked as cool as ice, nothing deducted the hip points as having your mother walking beside you, talking animatedly about whatever came to her mind.
But they would never suspect that beneath the stylish clothes was the toned body of an American superstar. They would never suspect that the swagger in his step and his blasé attitude were the result of legions of fans screaming his name and people twice, or perhaps three times his age serving to his every wish. They would never suspect that this young man who didn’t even have two cents of spare change in his pocket had millions of dollars that were gradually gaining interest stashed away in a bank, product of years of hard work with his fellow band mates. Why would they? He just looked like any other guy.
But of course, appearances could be deceiving.
“Just think about it Justin; the UK is a blank canvas for you. You can release your stuff here without having the tag of Nsync,” reasoned his mother, using enthusiastic hand gestures to emphasize her point.
“Yeah, I’ll just have the tag of being Britney Spear’s ex boyfriend,” he retorted, mentally counting the number of chewing gum blobs that he walked over on the gray sidewalk.
“That could be beneficial to you,” she replied logically. “People are interested in Britney, and you‘ll have a story to tell about her, therefore they’ll be interested in you.”
“Oh, thanks mom,” he said sarcastically, raising his eyes slightly as he crossed a road. “It’s good to know I don’t have to depend on her any less than I used to.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Lynn scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“Can we just not talk about this?” he interrupted quickly, before she could continue. “I’m hungry, and I really don’t feel like doing any more business talk. It’s all I’ve heard for weeks.”
“Oh Justin, stop being such a grouch,” Lynn laughed, linking her arm through her son’s. “You’re like some cranky woman on her period.”
“First of all, don’t be disgusting. Secondly, I really am hungry,” he repeated, lifting the rim of his hat to survey their surroundings, hoping a restaurant would magically form so that he could get something to eat. He had been careful with his diet in the past few weeks, hoping to tone up and (he said this with all seriousness) make his body the want of every female in the country. But with all his dance rehearsals for the approaching VMA’s, any calories he consumed were rapidly used up, and his trainer had ordered him to start eating as much as he wanted. He needed something to build muscle on, otherwise he’d just end up looking like a skeleton bopping around in a trilby on that stage.
Lynn shivered slightly, pulling her brown leather jacket closer to her body. “Well, how about over there?” she nodded in the direction of a smallish restaurant standing sandwiched between a Gucci warehouse and a Starbucks.
Justin eyed the cream exterior scarred with the name ‘Nirvana’ in black paint above the door. It was an odd size; too big to be small but too cozy to be big. The large windows at the front of the building gave a peek into a spacious lounge, filled with smooth wooden table tops and padded chairs. The restaurant held that buzz that always seems to be produced by crowds; a harmonic blend of glasses clinking and people laughing. It was a comforting sound in a way; it let its clientele know that it wasn’t some stuffy, highbrow restaurant, but rather a relaxed, fun eating joint where friends could unwind and have fun. However, it also made it clear that drunken outbursts of uncouthness were something that should stay in the local pub at the corner of the road.
Before Justin could suggest running over to the McDonalds they had seen two blocks back, Lynn was already digging her manicured nails into his arm and tugging him in the direction of the restaurant, asking whether he thought they’d have nice toilets.
Justin reluctantly fell in step beside his mother as they entered the restaurant, routinely pulling down the hat over his eyes. As they stood and waited to be seated, Lynn began distractedly humming an old Nsync song and Justin started to pull at a loose thread hanging from the end of his blue jacket.
“Hi, welcome to Nirvana. Is it a table just for the two of you?” a voice vaguely reminiscent of a slightly more refined Bridget Jones asked, jolting Justin from his thoughts and snapping his head up.
The young girl stood before them, delivering a beautifully tuned polite smile. A small pair of rectangular black glasses framed large almond shaped green eyes; tousled black hair with discreet streaks of a lighter brown were pulled back away from her oval face into a spiky, messy bun at the back of her head. Her thin shoulders were hugged by a tight black shirt with three quarter length sleeves, buttoned to a tasteful place on her chest that gave a cheeky glimpse at a tiny fraction of cleavage, and a short black skirt covered by an even shorter black apron hung from her slender hips.
She stared at them expectantly, her poised smile never wavering. The dusting of gray eye shadow on her eyelids electrified her intent look as Justin and Lynn stood in silence before her, waiting for the other to answer her question.
“Yes, just two, thank you,” Lynn finally answered, digging a sharp elbow into Justin’s ribs that clearly said, ‘You couldn’t have answered that?’.
“Great. Follow me please,” she beamed, bending down to pick up two menus and turning around, weaving her way between the various tables and chairs until reaching an available spot.
Justin and Lynn hung their jackets on the backs of their chairs as their waitress stood back until they were seated. Justin pulled off his Pony hat and ran a hand through his short curls, revitalizing them once more, and stole another glance at the fantastic view of the waitress’s legs revealed by her short skirt as he shoved his hat into his jacket pocket. She was a classic beauty who obviously knew how to enhance her best features, and if she wanted him to look at her legs, then he certainly would not disappoint.
Once they had comfortably slid onto the cushioned chairs, she handed them each a laminated menu, pulled out a pad of white paper and primed a fluffy pink pen for action. “Can I get you anything to drink to start off with?”
“Sure, I’ll have a Diet Coke, please,” answered Lynn as she opened her menu.
“And you, sir?” the waitress asked, jotting down Diet Coke onto her notepad.
Justin tried to stifle a yawn. “I think I’ll have to have a coffee, please. Oh, and a glass of water.”
She smiled. “Black or white?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Milk or sugar?” she repeated, glancing up from her pad to share a brief moment of eye contact, flashing a jet of green towards him.
“Oh, no milk, thanks. Two sugars, please.”
She inconspicuously wrinkled her nose in disgust as she wrote down his order. How on earth could some people stomach no milk in their coffee? It was like drinking the undiluted broth of Satan. “Okay, I’ll be back with your drinks in a moment,” she said, giving them one last smile before turning away from the table, spinning her hips around the tables as she headed towards the bar.
“Pretty girl,” Lynn commented absentmindedly from behind her menu.
“Gorgeous,” Justin agreed.
************
“Eve: that lecturer that came last Tuesday, what was his name?”
“Teaheart,” she replied, scooping a few ice cubes into the long stem of a glass and placing it under the drinks dispenser.
“Oh yeah, that was it,” Charlie nodded, slinging a towel over his shoulder as he placed two newly washed glasses back onto the shelf. “Will was asking me earlier and I didn’t have the foggiest.”
“He was American, like those two over there,” Eve commented, nodding in the direction of the corner at the two diners immersed in their menus as the glass filled with Diet Coke. “The guy is--”
“Justin Timberlake,” finished Belle, a fellow waitress at Nirvana, as she budged Eve along slightly to reach the straws.
“I was going to say looks like a Snoop Dogg castoff, but your interpretation sounds more interesting,” Eve replied, putting the glass of Coke on the bar’s counter.
“He’s Britney Spear’s ex,” she continued, grasping two straws in her hand and sticking them in children’s sized cups of orange juice. “I recognized him when he walked in. I was going to serve him, but you got there first.”
“Are you sure that’s him?” asked Eve, craning her neck to catch another look at her customer.
“Definitely; I saw him on the cover of Heat the other day. He was doing some interview about Britney, saying what a cow she was. Sounded quite bitter, funnily enough,” Belle continued, putting the drinks on a tray.
“He looks a lot different,” she frowned, distractedly putting a cup under the coffee machine.
“He’s doing a solo thing now,” Belle shrugged. “Getting rid of those curls was probably the best career move he could have made.”
Eve laughed and pulled out a tray to put her drinks on. “He’s looks quite good now, actually.”
“I’ve never even heard of him.” Charlie glanced in the direction of the girls’ interest, shrugging when he saw the crouched form of Justin Timberlake. “Nothing too exciting.”
“And since when have you been legible to give advice about men?” Eve pointed out, pulling the towel off his shoulder and swatting him with it.
“Well, seeing as we gossip about every soul that enters this joint, I’ve had to extend my opinions to blokes too.”
Eve shrugged. “What else would we do if we didn’t gossip about customers? Work?” she joked, retrieving the filled coffee cup and adding two sugar lumps. “It’s not every day we get a celebrity in here.”
Nirvana seemed the sort of place that one might be lucky enough to see the odd B-list celebrity in it occasionally, but was too small to become a celebrity ‘hot spot’. It was true that once Brad Pitt had casually sauntered in and ordered a bowl of leek soup with a side serving of fries and a glass of Pepsi, but Nirvana’s patrons were usually tourists or trendy office friends in their mid twenties. Perhaps a reality TV star or a mediocre pop singer would pop in at the weekend, but that was it. News of a celebrity was exciting, but not necessarily mind-blowing…with the exception of Brad Pitt, of course.
“He does look very good…” said Belle, adjusting the clip in her fiery red hair before lifting up her serving dish.
“I’ll be sure to tell him that when I give him his disgustingly strong black coffee, then,” Eve teased, poking Belle in the waist as she artfully balanced her tray in one hand and left the bar.
She carefully avoid being rammed by someone pushing their chair out too quickly and a child spitting water everywhere, and reached the table safely. Justin sat alone, frowning deeply at the menu, as the chair opposite him remained empty. Eve was sure she had seen his mother, or girlfriend, or whoever the woman with him was, ask a member of staff where the bathroom was, so that explained that.
She set down the drinks in their rightful positions, received a preoccupied murmur of ‘thanks’, and lifted her tray to be on her way. Just as she was about to leave, a cough from behind her caused her to turn around again.
“Excuse me…”
“Eve,” she smiled, tilting her white nametag in his direction and flashing him with her three letters.
“Eve, I was just wondering whether you could tell me what these are,” he asked, shifting the menu in her direction.
“Our British lingo confusing you already?” she grinned, looking at the subheading ‘Traditional Dishes’, which his long finger was pointing at.
He shrugged sheepishly. “I guess you could say that, yes.”
She smiled and bent down, adjusting her glasses to see the printed writing on the page. “Where’s the problem?”
“What the hell is ‘Bangers and Mash‘?”
Justin froze as Eve swooped down to his eye level and gazed at the menu, encompassing him in a flowery scent, before straightening again, a grin on her face.
“Bangers and Mash are basically sausages and mashed potatoes in gravy,” she replied, laughing slightly at his confused expression.
“Okay…” he nodded. “And Haggis? That’s Scottish, right?”
She giggled. “Yes. It’s traditional haggis, which contains sheep meat and oatmeal in it.”
“And from where in the sheep comes the meat?”
“The stomach,” she said simply.
Justin’s eyes widened. “Yum,” he said quietly, making a funny face which consisted of furrowing his brows and pouting.
She laughed. “It’s actually very nice.”
“I’m sure it is, but you’ll have to forgive me for being a philistine and passing on the sheep’s stomach,” he said, smiling at her.
She fought back a coy smile. “Anything else I can help you with?”
He shook his head. “I think I can decipher the rest of these; honestly, why do you crazy English make up all kinds of weird names? In America, a pizza’s a pizza, and that’s that. We don’t call it…I don’t know, fireworks and pepperoni.”
She tried to stifle her giggle. “On behalf of my nation, I apologize.”
He grinned. “That’s alright. I’m Justin, by the way.” He held out his hand and shook her smooth, milky white one. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she said shyly, feeling heat rush to her cheeks at the physical contact between them; his large hand incasing her small one for reasons unknown made her feel like she was back in High School talking to her crush.
“The bathrooms are gorgeous, by the way,” Lynn said, smoothing her skirt out to avoid creases as she sat back down, much to Justin and Eve’s surprise. Their hands jumped apart, and they guiltily stared anywhere but each other as Lynn pulled in her chair.
“Um…are you ready to order?” Eve asked quickly, scrounging in the two pockets at the front of her apron for her pad of paper and pen.
“I think so…” Lynn mused, chewing her lip as she eyed the menu. “Oh yeah, what are Bangers and Mash?”
Eve tried desperately to suppress her grin as she heard Justin snort behind his hand. “It’s a traditional English dish with sausages, mashed potatoes and gravy.”
“Well, that sounds wonderful. I’ll have that please,” said Lynn, folding her menu and handing it back to Eve with a smile.
“And yourself, sir?” She turned to Justin, reminding herself to regard him respectfully. He was her customer, after all.
“I’ll stick with the good ol’ American cheeseburger and fries,” he said, pointing towards one of the listed meals.
Eve grinned and nodded as she quickly wrote down their order, before accepting the menu Justin had extended to her. Like any girl would, she noticed the soft brush of his fingers against hers and the small wink he gave her, but she refused to acknowledge it. “Okay, I’ll be back with your meals shortly.”
“Thank you,” Justin and Lynn said to her retreating back as she turned to the kitchens.
******************
“I’ll pay for things here mom, you just head back to the hotel,” Justin said, reaching into his back pocket for a credit card.
“Have you got any change for the tip?”
“I have ten US dollars, if she wants that.”
Lynn gave him an unimpressed look. “Do you want to use my card?” she offered, holding out her Visa card to him.
“I told you Ma, I got it.”
She smiled and leaned over to kiss his head. “Thanks, baby. Now remember, you have to be at that meeting at three o’clock, okay? Three o’clock.”
He rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, yeah, I practically got it inscribed on my forehead.”
She laughed. “Sorry, but after you missed that last one they were not very pleased.”
He shrugged and accepted the crisp English ten pound bill she gave him to pay for the tip. “I’ll be there, don’t worry.”
“Okay; I’ll send Lonnie to pick you up at four thirty,” she assured him, slipping on the brown leather jacket and pulling her blonder curly hair from under the collar. “Call me if there’s a problem.”
He smiled as she placed another kiss on his cheek, before dodging her way through the buzzing restaurant. Clasping his hands together, his eyes darted around in search of Eve. He finally caught sight of her by the door, ringing something up, and when she saw Lynn exit the beige door, her eyes immediately went to Justin’s table. She gave him a smile to say that she would be there in a moment, quickly finished whatever job she had been doing, and approached his table.
“Did you enjoy your meal?” she asked politely, as she loaded our dishes onto her tray.
“Very much, thank you.”
“Good,” she mumbled, balancing the cups in the precarious position of the right corner. “Here’s your bill,” she said, sliding the receipt along with a few mints across the table to him.
“Thanks.” He popped a mint into his mouth and quickly scanned the receipt, before placing his card down. “There you go.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said, leaning over to pick it up.
Justin could see it was going to happen before it did; he could see the half empty glasses edge their way closer to the border of the tray, he could see the remaining liquid in them slosh to the sides of the glasses as the they slid further and further to the edge. He knew that within seconds, they would take a little bungee jump without the bungee and land all over his new Abercrombie and Fitch jeans, leaving a beautiful stain of cold coffee and Diet Coke all over his crotch.
Had his instincts been better, he might have moved back. Had his common sense been stronger, he might have warned Eve that the cups were slipping. As it happens, in that moment he was neither instinctive or commonsensical, and as a result, a cold, damp feeling quickly spread from his thighs right up to his “special place”.
“Jesus!” he shouted, leaping back, the chair’s legs scraping loudly on the floor. Sure, his reflexes had kicked in; only it was three seconds too late.
The glasses spun off his lap as he stood up and landed with a crash on the floor, smashing into little shards on impact. Eve gasped and stood back, almost throwing her tray off balance once more; luckily, she firmly gripped it with two hands and set it on the table -- she didn’t need to add two broken plates to her résumé, as well as the cups.
Eve clasped her hands to her mouth as she saw the drinks slowly saturate through Justin’s jeans. It wasn’t just the fact coffee and Coca Cola were a terrible stain to try and remove, but the fact that it was around his crotch just made things ten times worse.
“I’m-I’m so sorry!” she gasped, reaching out blindly to pick up some tissues and held them in front of him. She would’ve tried to dry things up herself, but she didn’t want him to sue her for sexual harassment as well as everything else he was probably going to use against her in court.
“This shit’s never gonna come out!” he groaned loudly, attracting several glances from fellow diners. He hastily grabbed the paper towels she was meekly holding out and furiously rubbed at the darkened patch on his pants, conveniently ignoring the fact he was probably making the fabric of his pants soak up the liquid faster.
“Oh God,” Eve whimpered, stumbling backwards in as it dawned on her how much her ass would be kicked for this. This wouldn’t be a smack on the hand and a ‘Don’t do that again’, this would be either a stern ‘You do that again, and you’re fired’ or a straight up ‘you don’t get a second chance; you’re fired right now’.
“I have a meeting to get to in half an hour!” he exclaimed, tossing the towels to the side and bending to survey the damage.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Eve repeated, feeling her eyes prick with tears. She felt humiliated; the entire restaurant was staring at her, wondering who the idiot waitress was, who had spilled someone’s drink all over them. She wasn’t particularly easy to embarrass, but it would take one extremely confident human being to deal with the slight chuckles and shakes of heads that were being thrown in her direction.
And it wasn’t just that; this job was her lifeline. If she lost this, who would pay for her books for university then? Who would pay her rent at the end of the month? Who would take care of cost of the gas, electricity, and all the other amenities that her diminutive apartment held? Santa Claus?
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she said weakly from the depths of her hands.
Justin slowed his vivacious rubbing to look at Eve. Her shoulders had slumped, and she had buried her head in her hands miserably. Her hair was falling out of its sloppy bun, and Justin saw long strands of black and light brown fall around her face. If she wasn’t already crying, she was on the extreme brink of doing so.
“Excuse me, what’s the problem here?” came the stern, militaristic voice of the manager.
When Eve and Justin failed to respond, his eyes flew over the broken glass on the floor, to Eve’s dismal appearance, and finally settling on the wet patch on Justin’s jeans.
It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.
“Sir, I am deeply regretful of the situation,” he began to gush, immediately turning on the concerned air for Justin. “Please accept this meal free as our apology.”
Justin threw the sodden paper towel onto the table, where it landed with a hard squelch.
“And let me assure you this will never happen again.” His tone became bitter and he looked over to Eve. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Eve found herself crumbling under her manager’s gaze, and she quickly averted her stare to the floor, trying to shake off his furious glare. Tears were sneaking their way down her cheeks, but she hastily brushed them away, praying no one had seen her.
Justin felt a surprising pang of guilt as he saw Eve deteriorate in front of him. He didn’t fully understand why this job was so important to her; there were hundreds of restaurants within a one mile radius of Nirvana alone.
She quickly wiped at her eyes underneath her glasses, rubbing her index finger and thumb together to get rid of the mascara smudges and eye shadow residue. To just top off her day, her make up was going to let her down and she’d end up looking like a mixture of Alice Cooper and that guy from Kiss. Great.
Justin forced a dry chuckle out of his throat. “Oh, I wouldn’t want Eve to pay the penalty for my clumsiness.”
The manager blinked. “Sorry?”
Justin again used his best acting skills to try and laugh casually. “I’m such a klutz! I swear I have like, stone, in my arms! They just swing all over the place, knocking crap over.” He finished with another hearty laugh and wild hand gestures that made the manager raise his eyebrows.
The manager frowned and turned to Eve. “Are you not responsible for this?”
Justin shook his head behind the man’s broad back, his lips forming a firm, ‘No’.
Eve folded her arms uncomfortably. “Um…not really, no. I mean, well, no. No,” she stuttered.
The manager shot her a disbelieving look. “Well…”
“In fact, I want to commend Eve on her excellent service this afternoon,” Justin continued smoothly. “No other waitress would have described haggis as vividly as she did.”
Eve giggled slightly, wiping her face of any remaining tears. “Any time.”
The manager sighed, as though he knew perfectly well they were talking utter trash, but he was willing to let it go because the number one rule in catering is: The customer is always right.
“Well, if you are sure, sir.”
“Oh, I am. And please, let me pay for the meal.” He gave the manager an enthusiastic slap on the back. “It’s the least I can do for having such a great lunch!”
The manager recoiled slightly; he wanted Justin’s energetic admiration as far away from his as possible. The kid was presumably high or something, no normal person was that happy.
“In that case, um…I hope to see you here again,” he shrugged, sending Justin a dubious look. “Eve,” he ordered sharply, “please get this kind sir’s bill paid for, and then clean this mess up.”
“Certainly,” she replied quietly, picking up Justin’s credit card and receipt and walking slowly over to the till, feeling the stares on her as she did so. But slowly, like someone turning up the volume knob on a stereo, the restaurant’s background buzz filtered back in, and people forgot instantly about the whole catastrophe.
“Thank you so much for doing that,” Eve said gratefully when she and Justin had reached the desk. “I was going to lose my job.”
He smiled. “I know. That’s why I did.”
“And I’m so sorry I spilt that drink on you; you’d think after an entire year of waitressing I would’ve learnt not to be so stupid,” she said scornfully, shaking her head at herself. She sighed and tried to calm herself down enough to swipe Justin’s card. “Is there anything I can do as a way of apology?” she asked vaguely, concentrating on dealing with his payment.
“You could write your number on the back of that receipt,” he said simply, watching as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
She paused in her movements. A pink blush spread quickly across her cheeks, and she couldn’t fight the smile that rapidly captured her lips as she tried not to look up at his smiling face. “Alright.”
She quickly looked around to see that no one was looking at her, before pulling out her pink fluffy pen again. She scrawled her number onto the back of Justin’s receipt, added her name in case he completely forgot who she was the moment he left the shop, and drew a small smiley face that she had grown so accustomed to doing as part of her signature, she couldn’t stop. Wrapping it around his card, she handed him the receipt.
“There you go.”
He unfolded the paper and smirked at her smiley face. “Very cute.”
She shrugged modestly. “Have a nice day,” she said, giving him one last flirtatious smile.
He grinned. “You too. I’d better go and buy s’more pants.”
She groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Again, I’m so sorr--”
He waved her off with his hand. “Don’t worry about, Bangers and Mash.”
She laughed and shook her head, feeling the tension that had settled in her body in the last ten minutes gently ease.
“I’d better go, but I'll call you. Tata!” he cried, giving her a dynamic wave and heading out of the door.
She giggled and gave him a small wave, leaning against the bar as she watched him walk away from the restaurant with his ever-present strut. She sighed and began to twirl a piece of her hair around her fingers, wondering whether he really would call her. She doubted it; knowing her luck, he’d lose the piece of paper and forget which restaurant she worked at. Or, even better, he already had a girlfriend.
She thoughtfully untwirled the strand of hair again, seeing Justin take a turn into a shop, presumably to buy some new pants. He was adorable; not to mention good looking. It was too bad she’d never see him again.
Eve sighed, wiped her hands on her apron, and tied her back again, ready to clean up the mess left by her and Justin.
And that was how they met.
Review Replies
Madcrazychick
lol Don't worry, I'll be poking fun at a lotta stereotypes in this story, British and American! And as for This Love...how do you know it's breast cancer? She could be pregnant, she could be ill...ya just don't know! LOL I'm taking my time with that, just to piss everyone off! lol anyway, thanks for being my first reviewer!
Maria
Thanks! I hope you continue to read
Gigi
I'm very glad to hear it! Thanks a lot =)
broken_soul
lmao I'm not sure, I kinda like them, I kinda don't. But for your sake, I'll say he's got a great ear! LOL Thanks for reviewing!
joone
LOL Glad to see ya excited! I haven't started a new one in ages, so I just thought what the hell...I hope you enjoy it, so thanks for reviewing!
Ciara
That's so nice of you, thank you. And you have an amazing name! *goodies...goodies...not mah goodies!*...I'm sorry, I'll never do that again =) lol
Hollie
Why thank ya, Ms Hollie! And don't tell broken_soul, but he does sing out of tune, doesn't he?! lol
Sam
Thanks! I hope you continue to like it!
Helena
THEY SURE DO! My granmomma's british, so...lol and trust me, Eve and Justin are not gonna agree on ANYTHING soon enough. Thanks for reviewing!
dancewiturheart08
I hope so! lol Thanks for reviewing =)
Gracie
Lol Still??!! I'll fix it...soon...lol Anyway, I'm glad I got you excited, you're in for a ride! Oh dear God, please ignore me...LOL Just kidding, thanks for the review!
glitter15
YOU ARE THE REASON I AM DELAYING AN UPDATE! GET YOUR ASS WRITING JOKE'S ON YOU, OKAY?! And yes, I updated this first just to spit you!! :P lol Don't worry chick pea, and update is in the works...but I'm glad to hear you liked this one too! Thank you for reviewing hoebag! lol
