It’s another day at Babes. Another day full of corpulent men sitting at the edge of the bar, trying to get laid. It’s sick to think that this is my job. I look around the room, studying the other ladies applying their lip stick, fishnets, and other skanky garb. I guess I don't have much room to talk considering the outfit that I have on today. It's not as skanky as some of theirs, but it's not something a person usually wears either. I study myself in the mirror.. A white see through "dress" that ends at my mid thigh, Christ, you can see my underwear...my hair, an artificial looking bleach blond, tossed wildly around my face...eyes outlined in dark black and lips pink. Yes, a true whore.

I hear my name being called through the microphone and I stand up on my six inch heels. My feet are sore from the previous dancing around the poll. I walk over to the black velvet curtain that frames the stage. Bright colorful lights dart out from under it, reflecting off my white glitter heels. The curtains fly back and my smile flies on. I seductively walk across the stage, making sure my hips sway to the sexy beat. My tongue darts out, moistening my lips as I seek out my prey. My eyes scan the crowd for the highest bill, and I am lured in by a hand languidly waving a Ben Franklin. Six men sit at the corner of the bar with huge grins spread across their faces. The one in the middle has a birthday hat on...I smile at him, he's shoving cake in his face and guzzling beer out of one of those hats with the beer cans attached. It says: "Babes Birthday Boy". I reach him and shake my ass in his face, pulling back when I feel his fingers touch my ankles.

"Hey," the man seated next to him barks at me. "Give the man what he paid for."

I look over at my supervisor, hoping that he will excuse me from the rowdy group. No such luck. His expression is telling me I better get with the program or my ass is out the door. Reluctantly, I step back toward Birthday Boy, and cringe as I feel his hand run up and down my leg. I let his fingers travel up to my mid thigh before turning around. My legs slip around the poll, and I cringe as I hear the cluster of men begin to howl and whistle at me while I do my thing. My stomach turns at the thought of them staring at my half naked body.

Finally, my number ends. The men are cheering me on, begging me for another round. I walk away, hating myself for the ten minutes I have just endured.

It's just another day at Babes...only eight more hours to go.
********************************
It's been two hours. The rotation starts up again. It's Kelly first, then Cindy, and then I go. Cindy's number has just begun, and I'm glad because she always takes extra time with her act. She actually enjoys her work. I'm eating a quick lunch...tuna fish on rye. It's short lived.

"Forget your number, I need you for a private show."

I turn my head in the direction of the doorway. My boss is standing there, accompanied by a short man, who looks like he's almost got muscles...he just needs a few more hours in the gym, and less Coffee Cake. I recognize him as one of the men seated next to Birthday Boy. He's good looking, but definitely not my type. A glob of tuna falls on my shirt. I frown. "A private show?"

My boss nods. "Go."

"I don't do private shows, sorry." I look back to my lunch. I swipe the left over tuna off of my shirt with my finger, and stick it in my mouth.

Coffee Cake man laughs. "Sweetness, I don't think you know just who it is that you're dealing with."

I look up. He motions behind him.

It's Birthday Boy...less the beer can hat. He is very well toned, very good looking, and very, very drunk. His eyelids are half closed, and I'm wondering if alcohol is the only chemical running through his veins.

"I don't give a shit who he is." I roll my eyes, and look back at my sandwich. "I said no private shows." What doesn't this guy understand? I said no. We may be strippers, but we aren't private property.

"What if we pay you extra?" he challenges me, with a playful expression.

Extra? I turn around, one eyebrow raised. "How much extra?"

Coffee Cake man reaches into his pocket and whips out a stack of bills as thick as a fist. "Name your price sweetness," he laughs.
************************
I've never been in this section of the club before. It's the VIP lounge. I never knew that we had a VIP lounge. Now that I'm in here though, I realize that the girls I always thought had left after their shifts were actually up here giving lap dances and whatever else these rich types asked for. Some people will do anything to make a few extra dollars. I always thought these type of people where nothing but whores. But now, here I am, doing exactly what I told myself I'd never do.

Birthday boy stumbles behind me, giggling the entire way. His hands roam my backside and thighs. I tremble slightly, but I doubt he has noticed. I stop in front of the black door and Bert the Bouncer opens it for us, not hesitating to give me a reassuring wink as he does so...perv. I groan softly as I feel Birthday Boy wrap his arms around my waist from behind and lick my neck, making it evident on how much he wants this. He stinks of Jack Daniels and...lemons?

I hear the door slam shut behind us. This is it...just me and him, in this tiny room. I finally turn around, and make myself look at Birthday Boy. Strange...so familiar looking. He standing before me, a queer, childlike smile spread across his face. He doesn't look as trashed as he did before, and I'm hoping that this is a good thing.

"What is it that you want exactly?" I ask him.

"I want to touch you," he begins, taking slow steps towards me. "I want you to do...what you do best."

I cringe inside. I don't want to, but Coffee Cake man has offered me ten thousand dollars to do this. Ten thousand dollars...

We have sex on the floor. I don't understand this, because of the fact that a bed has been provided. The sex is wonderful, even...beautiful...he is beautiful. It doesn't feel like some cheap sex that I'm getting paid for, no. Birthday Boy is making me feel like we've known each other for years and are just having sex for the first time. He is too good at this...he is amazing...

We're making love...

It ends. I snap out of the fantasy. He helps me to my feet and smiles.

"Thanks."

I don't reply.

"When do you work next?" He asks.

"T-tomorrow." I squeak out.

"You wanna maybe...come to my place tomorrow?" He inquires. "You know, it won't be as raunchy there."

"I don't think my boss would go for that." I inform him.

"Trace just gave you ten grand." He laughs. "I don't think you need to come in anymore."

My eyes widen. I had been so caught up in the moment just now, I had forgot all about the money that I had shoved in my purse before coming up here. But now I remember, thanks to Birthday Boy...and I also know Coffee Cake man's name now. Trace...what a girls name that is. "You want me to come to your house?"

He nods his head in approval and begins to put his clothes back on.

"How will I get there?"

"Meet me here," he informs me. "My name is Justin by the way."

"Oh," I stare at him. Justin...my God...Birthday Boy isn't just some horny kid. "Justin Timberlake," I state.

"Yeah." He half smiles. "Now, don't get all squealy girly on me."

Squealy girly? I gawk at him, like he's a fool for saying such a thing.

He doesn't take my gaze to heart, or maybe, he's just too drunk to notice. "Meet me out front at seven thirty tomorrow night," Justin orders. "And don't tell anybody."

I shake my head. Me? Tell somebody that I'm going to fuck Justin Timberlake for the second night in a row...at his house, which is probably bigger than the state of Tennessee? The guy must think I'm addicted to crack. "I'll be there," I say seriously, so he doesn't get the impression that I'm totally ready to drool all over myself.

"Good," he doesn't smile. "Tell me your name."

"Deja."

"Deja...hmmph." He raises his eyebrows, and staggers away, obviously still intoxicated.

Within seconds he is gone, and I am left standing in the tiny room, naked and alone...but it's well worth it.

I never have to come back to this place.

********************

"Weren't you supposed to be at work an hour ago?"

I open my eyes. My roommate, Jade, is standing there. Her expression is tired. She works at the supermarket down the street. I smile. She won't have to go back there tomorrow. "Look in my bag," I tell her.

She gives me a weird look, but does what I've asked of her. "Jesus!" She exclaims, once she peers inside my bag, "Where the hell did you get all that money?"

"Work," I reply as if that explanation made the situation make total sense.

She scrunches up her nose. "Work?"

I sigh, and sit up in bed. "Yesterday a group of guys came in and ya know...wanted a little extra entertainment."

"What, did you wake Elvis from the dead and have him come in to put on a free show? Come on Dej', this is a lot of money...even on a strippers wages. None of those fat, disgusting men could possibly be wealthy enough to simply throw away ten grand on a peep show,” she tells me, picking up the bills and fanning them. "There's more to this," her eyes are filled with excitement. "Spill it."

"Justin Timberlake" I say, after debating about if it’s safe to tell her the truth or not.

She laughs at me. "Justin Timberlake. Girl, you’re gonna to have to do better than that. Why in the world would somebody as famous...and as hot...as Justin Timberlake, go to your strip club to have a good time? Come on, which one of those fat slobs robbed the bank? Billy Joe...Ray?"

I stand up and throw my pillow at her. "I'm serious! It was his birthday...or...something," I shrug and get down off of the bed. "I don't know...and it doesn't matter anyway. The only thing that matters is that I got paid a ton of money to do it."

She sends me an open mouthed stare. "You really are serious aren't you."

I grin from ear to ear. "Yup."

"You got to have sex with Justin freakin' Timberlake!?" Jade gasps. "Dude, you should have woken me up when you got home! Hell...screw telling me when you got home. You should have told him you had a friend who would simply love to join in!"

I'm not sharing her joy. "Its not like I'm proud of this, Jade. It was work, and I feel like a whore for doing it. The one thing that amazed me though, was when it was all over he didn't treat me like some slut. It was nice...you know, to feel like a woman for a change," I blush, I hate talking about sex with her. I grab my towel off of the floor, and make my way out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

"Well it seems like you had an exciting night." She smiles, not hesitating to come into the bathroom with me. It's nothing knew. It's not like we haven't undressed in front of each other before.

That's what best friends do...

"So are you going to tell me the rest?" She persists.

I run the shower. "There's nothing else to tell." Well...not really anyway...

"Please," She rolls her eyes. "I know you Dej'...when you've had an adventure, there's always more to tell."

I sigh. "Well...alright. He told me not to tell anybody...but I guess I can trust you."

She lets out an excited squeal of delight. I try not to be amused.

"He wants me to come to his place tonight." I tell her. "He says the sex won't be so raunchy that way."

She looks at me, uncertain. "Are you sure...you know...that's it's a good idea. I mean, yeah, one time is great. But if you sleep with him again, he's going to expect to get it from you whenever he so desires. You're going to end up being his little hoe...or something."

"I'm not going to be his hoe."

She raises an eyebrow. "Ok...then we'll focus on the flipside. You could get attached to the guy, and have your heart broken when you realize he doesn't care about you...and he never did to begin with."

I step into the shower and yank the curtain closed. "It's business Jade. I'm a professional. I know how to keep business from mixing with my emotions."

"A professional?" Jade laughs. "A professional what? You take off your clothes and give lap dances to dirty old men."

I groan. I love her, I really do, but sometimes she acts like she's...my Mother or something. "I'm going." I tell her. "This is a good opportunity Jade, it's a lot of money...and by the end of the night he'll probably be handing me more. Don't you see? As long as I do this, we won't have to worry about money anymore." I explain. "You won't have to bag groceries anymore."

"It's not a good idea." Jade repeats. "I'd rather bag groceries for the rest of my life than see you give yourself to a pig like that."

A moment later I hear her leave the bathroom. The door slams...I know she's mad.

But I'm sick of my life. I'm sick of dancing for fat, ugly, lazy men. I want something good to happen to me...I want to be somebody.

And Justin...he can help me get there...well...at least I think he can.
********************************

7:35...

I sigh and kick the building. Justin didn't show up. I should have figured as much. He was pretty drunk last night. Maybe Jade was right. Why would somebody as rich, and hot...and famous as Justin Timberlake want me? He can have anybody he wants. I'm just another girl...another lay...

I'm crying now. I hate crying. Jade told me I was going to be heartbroken when I realized just how unimportant I am in his life...and she was right. She was right...and I was wrong.

I'm walking now...going home.

My life is horrible. I want to die.

A horn blares loudly...

"Hey...hey you! Hey girl!"

I whirl around. There is a big black Escalade parked in front of Babes. The windows are tinted...midnight black, you can't see in. I wonder...maybe you can't see out either. I squint, and shield my eyes...the lights are so bright. The car...I wouldn't be surprised if it had been bought yesterday.

There is a big black guy standing on the sidewalk, signaling me to come over to the car. I'm scared. Who is he? Why does he want me?

Maybe he saw me working at Babes...I'm nauseous, I don't want to fool around with him. When I'm close enough, he grabs me by my arm. I flinch...he's so strong. The man taps on the back drivers side window...it lowers, just enough so the man can be seen by whoever it is that is inside the vehicle.

The conversation is kept at a low whisper...I can't hear what they're saying. After several minutes their conversation ceases, and the window quickly rolls up. I'm shaking...I don't want to get in the car.

"Justin says he had a good time last night." The man smiles.

I'm relieved...he showed up after all.

"And he wants to have an even better time tonight. You think you can handle that girl?"

I don't answer, I only nod. In this business I've learned that you make more money if you talk less.

"Good." The man is satisfied. He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a piece of paper. He thrusts it in my face. "Justin says…read and sign."

I take it. It's some sort of contractual agreement. I'm confused:

I, the undersigned, willingly give up the right to release any public statement about my recurring relationship with one, Justin Timberlake. I, the undersigned, understand that by signing below, I will have accepted to abide by one, Justin Timberlake's rules and regulations (see "Team Justin" manual). Failure to follow the terms of the manual or the terms of this agreement will result in immediate civil action. These terms are as follows:

-The undersigned will follow a weekly meeting schedule that will be created by one, Justin Timberlake

-The undersigned must reside in Justin Timberlake’s home.

-The undersigned will forfeit all other male contacts from this point on.

-The undersigned will refer to herself only as the housekeeper when questioned by Mr. Timberlake's friends and family. Failure to comply will result in immediate civil action.

-The undersigned will not refer to any rumors that have been brought up in the media.

-The undersigned will except a payment of no more than three(3) million dollars for her services.

-The undersigned must agree to abide by the terms of this contract for one(1) year. This contract will be terminated 1/31/03.

By signing below, I, Deja Wilson, understand that I am bound by law to comply with all of the terms, rules, and regulations that have been explained to me.

X____________________ Date_______________

How does he know my last name?

I read the contract over again...his terms are absolutely ridiculous. A "weekly meeting schedule"? Who the hell does this guy think...

"Are you gonna sign it?" The man asks me, growing more impatient.

I don't hesitate. This is serious cash...and it's only for a year. What's a year? Nothing. Jade's gonna be so pissed...

I forget about her. The money offer is too overwhelming...I hastily scribble my signature on the dotted line and hand the paper back to the man...he snatches it away from me...he's laughing now.

The person that is in the car opens the door. I look...it's him...Justin. "Get in." He mumbles.

I do.

 

We are up in the suburbs. Funny, I never realized how wealthy some areas of Tennessee truly are. I'm impressed. But when we stop in front of a big iron gate...I am truly amazed. His house is gigantic, but really, why wouldn't it be? The man has money pouring out of his rear end. The gate parts, and the car surges forward, making its way down the long, gravel driveway. I look over at him, hoping that he might say something...anything. He's been silent the whole trip, not taking his gaze away from the window once.

I still can't believe I'm going to be living here.

The car stops, and the black man gets out of the car, quickly running around the car to open Justin's door.

"Lets go," he tells me. His voice is rough, grainy. His hand grabs my wrist, it's cold...and clammy. The black man leads the way to the house. The door is already open. Justin mumbles something to the man. The man nods. Justin pulls me inside and pushes the door shut...I'm expecting a magnificent home, full of priceless possessions...I'm wrong...

There are boxes...tons of them, everywhere. By the looks of it I'm guessing he has just moved in, or he's just not around enough to fix things up. But the guy is rich...can't he just hire somebody?

Oh wait...I almost forgot. I'm the "housekeeper" aren't I? "It's...nice." I blurt out.

"There isn't much to it," he shrugs. "I know you were probably expecting some kind of "Mtv Cribs" type of deal." He says, without a hint of laughter in his voice. He runs a hand over his shaved head before dropping it limply at his side.

"If you don't mind...can I please ask you something?" I ask him, with a shaky voice.

He shrugs. "I don't care."

"I don't quite understand this whole agreement. I mean, why do I have to live with you?…and what's the deal with these meetings?"

"That's the way things are. If you don't like the terms, too bad. You already signed the paper," he snaps at me. "Come on, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping, and then I'll go over the basics." he starts for the wooden stairway. I follow.

He's walking fast...too fast. I can barely keep up. It's starting to piss me off.

"The basics" I grumble. This guy is weird...even for a celebrity. So, quiet...so...angry. It seems like he has crawled into a shell, and is shutting himself out from the world. I wonder...just what happened to him that was so bad? He's not poor, he's living a dream life...then why is he wasting his time being miserable?
We reach the top of the stairs. There is a long hallway ahead. There are many doors. He leads the way down the hall and stops about halfway down the passage. After a moment, he finally turns around and faces me. I gasp. His face is pale, and tired. His eyes...bloodshot. He looks like hell.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

He rolls his eyes and opens the door with a flick of his diamond studded wrist.

"This is your room." He informs me, once the door is wide open. "Do whatever it is you want to do with it. I don't care." he grumbles. "That," he points to the room adjacent to mine. "Is my room. Don't go in it."

I smile. "Is it like the West Wing of the Beast's castle?"

"You're not funny." He mutters. "Do you cook?"

"I can make French toast." I supply.

He groans. "You're gonna need to learn how to cook. I can't cook...I'm much too busy."

I glare at him. "You're stupid contract never said I had to cook."
He crossed his arms. "Well usually a housekeeper does the cooking."

"I don't cook." I snap.

"Fine!" He exclaims. "I guess I'll have to hire a damn cook then."

"Let's just get something straight here. I'm posing as the housekeeper. My job is to give you what you want when you want it...that's it."

He lets out a soft chuckle. "I should have known better. You know what I should have done...I should have just hired a really hot maid and paid them to clean the house and sleep with me."

I shake my head in disgust. "Pig."

He is enraged by my comment. He raises his hand to me...

I let out a small shriek. Images of my father flash through my
mind...

You better listen girl! You better listen...

"Hey."

I look at him. His arm is hanging at his side, the wild look has left his eyes. He looks...almost...sorry.

"Look...just don't talk back to me alright?" He grumbles. "Eric is downstairs. You probably need to get your stuff right?"

"Yeah." I whisper.

He nods. "Good. Be back by two am."

He says no more. He drags himself into his room and slams the door behind him.

I am still trembling. The fact that he was about to hit me is making me want to run away from here and never come back.

But I have no choice. I signed the contract...

This is my life now.

But...what will Jade say?
*************************
It is eleven o'clock now. Jade is curled up on the couch, tissues are scattered around her. I glance at the cause of her tears...Jack is confessing his love to rose. I have to laugh. You know, Jack was probably really thinking about how fast he could knock rose off of that floating door so he could save himself. I stand back and watch my friend sob over the movie as if it is the last time I am going to see her. But actually, I probably won't be able to see her for quite some time. Unless of course "master" allows me visitors...

Master...

Oh lord.

"You know you should really throw that movie away," I speak up after a little while. "I mean, how many times can a person sit through Titanic and actually enjoy it?"

Jade nods, and waves her tissue in the air. She doesn't want me to ruin the moment for her, even though she's seen this movie about twenty times.

The elderly version of Rose dies...the younger Rose appears again...she meets her long lost love on the stairs. They are eternally together...blah blah blah...

"You know you cried the first time you saw it." Jade laughs, flicking off the television.

I plop myself down on the couch and lay my head on her shoulder. "I need to talk to you."

She is silent for a moment. "Alright...what's the matter hun?"

The fact that she is being so nice right now isn't making this any easier. "He showed up tonight" I tell her.

She smiles. "So what happened?"

I don't reply for several moments. I am trying to figure out the right way to tell her I'm moving in with this guy that I've only known for two days. A guy who just tried to hit me no less. The idea is absolutely insane, and I know if she were the one telling me all of this I would probably laugh in her face and tell her to get a grip. "Alright...here's the deal Jade. He sat down and told me he was going to pay me three million dollars..."

Jade gasps. "Three...million...dollars? Deja! Are you for real!"

I half smile. "Yes. But there's more. I signed this contract...and by doing so...I agreed to live with him."

"Deja! I can't believe you!" Jade hollers at me. "How can you just move into a house with a guy you barely know?"

"The money!" I yell back. Well it wasn't exactly yelling... it was more like…a little louder than talking.

Alright it was yelling.

"I hate working at Babes!" I tell her. "But if I do this...I'll be set for life. I'll never have to work again, and neither will you."

Jade raises her hands above her head. "He's paying you to be his personal prostitute Dej'. That's not worth any amount of money. Don't you have any respect for yourself?"

"I..."

She won't let me get any words out. "You know, when you first told me about this guy I thought it was funny. It's not funny anymore." Her expression is serious. Yes, she's pissed.

"Just trust me." I beg her.

"Trust you?" She chuckles. "I don't have to trust you Deja. This is your life...your body. If you want to put yourself to shame by selling yourself to Justin Timberlake then go right ahead. But don't expect me to support you." She gets off the couch. "I'm going to bed." She heads off in the direction of her bedroom.

"Jade."

She doesn't answer.

I am on my own.
********************
It's three in the morning. That girl...Deja...she's still not back. It's beginning to annoy me, because she's wasting Eric's time to get her shit done. When she gets back, I'm going to set her straight...wait, no...in the morning I'll set her straight. I'm not in the mood to talk right now.

I'm thirsty now. I roll out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. I squint as I turn the lights on. After several minutes of blinking profusely, my eyes finally adjust to the light. I look into the mirror and gawk at myself. That's not me... the pale skin and bloodshot eyes...that's not me...this pain that I feel isn't me...I never let anything hurt me before. Then Britney happened...

I shouldn't be thinking about her. The album...that's the only thing that I need to think about.

I often wish it would all vanish. The fans, the memories, the media...I'm done with it. I don't want to do this anymore, not this second anyway. Tomorrow though, when I go to that radio station...I'll want it then. Getting attention drives me...builds me up, makes me feel important...needed...wanted.

I need to be wanted by somebody.

I sigh and take my clothes off. I step into the shower, and slide the door closed. I run the water...letting the warm liquid run down my body. Feels so good... I love taking showers. Sometimes, it's the only thing that can get me to calm down when I feel I'm losing my mind.

I stand in the shower until the hot water runs out. With a groan, I slide the door open again and walk out. I wrap a towel around my waist. I consider putting on some sweats...no...it's a warm night. I'll sleep like this.

Moment's later, I'm lying in my bed again. I'm cold. I turned the air conditioning up to high, I consider getting up to turn it down...no, too much work. Taking the easy way out, I pull my blanket on top of me. I let out a long yawn... my eyes are getting heavy. I'll be asleep soon...

Knocknock...

I perk up, reluctantly. "Come in" I grumble. I roll over onto my side. She's back now...and it's about damn time. "Where have you been?" I ask her, hugging my blanket to my chest. "I told you to be back by two. It's three."

"I had to say goodbye to Jade, my roommate." She tells me. "I wanted to make things right between us before I left. She wasn't too thrilled when I told her about all of this."

"You signed the contract" I sat up in the bed, letting my blanket fall, revealing my bare chest. I'm cold again...damn her. "It was your choice. Your friend will get over it."

"Whatever," she turns away, about to leave.

"Don't turn your back on me," I say, my voice booming. "I didn't say you could go. You go, when I tell you to go. Now," I pause, letting my voice become softer. I'm in the mood now..."Come here."

She turns back around, her expression is different from before...sad now...not angry. I get out of the bed, knowing I can be naked in front of her and she won't care. Seconds later I'm holding her...caressing her face...hair...kissing her... I can feel her hesitate for a split second...but the feeling passes quickly. She wants this...she's wanted it since the first time she saw me.... I think that's why I picked her. I knew I would have total control. She belongs to me...I love it...

I led her to the bed. She's wild...all over me...begging me for it...moaning my name...over and over...

I have control.
*************

I have been on my hands and knees all day (and no, it's not what your thinking either). Mr. Timberlake woke my ass up at seven this morning to inform me that he was "having a party" and I had to "fix his house for him". He also informed me that he was "going into the studio and would be back at three". Just to intimidate me he had added in that if I hadn't completed my mission when he got home we would be having a "a few words". It was so hard not to laugh at him. The more serious he acts towards me, the funnier it is (with the exception of the time that he almost hit me, of course.) He thinks I'm afraid of him...

I wish he knew how wrong he was.

His Greatness is due home in an hour, and I'm proud to say that this house is looking damn good. It doesn't look like a box factory anymore...it looks like a home. I have to admit, Justin has some pretty cool stuff. I set up the entertainment center equipment (don't ask me how) and it's amazing. Plasma television...amazing stereo system...a music and movie collection so gigantic, he probably doesn't even know what he has verses what he doesn't.

It must be great to have everything...

It must be great to not care too.

Last night was odd. A few hours after we had finished, I thought I could hear him sobbing. I had woken up, and discovered I had been right. Not only was he crying...but he was shaking too...in his sleep. Crying and shaking... I couldn't help but feel sorry him. He seemed so afraid...I woke him up. He was startled, but when he had realized who I was he became angry. "What the hell do you want", was his greeting. I had asked him what was the matter...that I had heard him sobbing. Of course he didn't answer...he retreated into the bathroom instead.

I considered sleeping in my own room after that, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. After all, he hadn't said I could go...and of course I wouldn't want to make him any angrier than he already was.

On the lighter side...the sex was once again, absolutely amazing. I'm beginning to realize how much of a different person Justin becomes when we sleep together. He becomes this gentle, caring, loving person. A person who would never raise a hand to a woman. He doesn't treat what we do as sex. He treats it as making love, and I'm thankful to him for that. I'm thankful that he has allowed me to have a little dignity.

I hear the front door slam shut. The footsteps are quick. Someone is whistling...Oh Suzanna? Moment's later, Justin appears at the entrance to the room. He doesn't look so tired today...he almost looks happy. He glances around his large living room, surveying my hard work. Yes...I'm about to be commended

He doesn't say anything to me. He turns and walks away. I am disappointed. Maybe...he wants me to follow...yes...I quickly get up from the sofa and follow him into the kitchen. His lean body, clad in jeans and a plain white shirt, leans against the kitchen counter. He is yakking away on his cell phone. Something about steak...he wants the good kind...

I wait until he is finished with his phone call before speaking. "So…"

He takes an apple from the bowl of fruit I had placed on the counter earlier. "You did a good job" he admitted, taking a bite. " Amm impreshed..." he says, his mouth full of apple.

I wiped several fragments of chewed-up apple off of my shirt. "There were some other things...that I didn't know what to do with. I put them your bedroom..."

His eyebrows raised. "What things?"

My heart begins to race. "Some pictures...photo albums...stuff like that."

"Oh," he says simply. "Did you look through them?"

Was this a test? If I say I looked at one of them to find out what it was...will he get mad? Will he hit me? Will he... take civil action?

"Deja?"

"No," I lie. Maybe if he hadn't raised his hand to me the other night, I would have fessed up to my crime. It's better to be safe than sorry.

My answer doesn't seem to phase him either way. He is bored with what I have done all day. It doesn't matter to him. It doesn't matter that I busted my ass making his house look beautiful.

"You're going to get dressed up and come to the little party tonight." he says to me. It's not a question.

I smile, delighted that he has invited me to attend a party that he's throwing. Up until now, I never thought he would have considered including me in anything. "Sounds like fun."

"Good. You're serving the drinks." He nods. "Wear something nice...you know...something you would wear for entertaining," he smiles. "You know what I mean."

My smile fades. I'm not invited to his party. I've merely been hired as this evenings beer wench. This is awful. Now I'll be stuck in a room with a million of his friends, serving them drinks...being groped... "But..." I begin to protest.

But he's already gone.

The music is loud. Too loud. It's so loud that I can barely hear the beverage requests that are being thrown at me. I finish pouring a shot of Jack and slide it across the counter to it's owner. He's cute. I'm amazed that I think he's cute, because he's black. I don't usually go for black guys. He gulps down the shot and winks at me. I look at him more closely, and could slap myself. Now I know why I have found him attractive...

Because he's Usher.

"Thanks boo."

"Oh..." I begin, but my voice catches in my throat before I can get a more human sounding response out. It's too late now. His date is back and is all over him. I won't be talking to him again tonight. But still, I smile, amazed at what has just happened. I've always liked him.

"So you stayed."

I look to my left. Coffee...I mean Trace is there now. I don't really know what to think, accept that I don't know if I can really trust him. I haven't seen him since that night at Babes, and even then he didn't seem like a very honest person...to me anyway.

"I thought Justin was full of it when he told me," he laughs coming closer to me. Obviously, he knows all about the contract. "But here you are. Hey, who says money can't buy love right?" His speech is a little slurred. Most people wouldn't know that he is tipsy, but I know right away. I know because I've seen every type of intoxicated person there is, from the really bad vomiting ones to the "This is my second drink" ones. Trace is probably on his fourth drink, and he probably won't be totally smashed until his eleventh, depending on what he is drinking. I can see that he is the type that can hold his liquor really well. "Give me a Miller," he orders. He is so much like Justin personality wise that it's starting to scare me.

I plop a beer mug on the counter top and pour his drink. By the time the foam has spilled over the top of the rim there are two girls hanging on him. I roll my eyes. These girls are beautiful and could do so much better than him. Trace is cute...but definitely not worthy of the two model like women hanging off of him. They find him attractive because he is friends with Justin, and that's the only reason. He'll probably manage to get one of them into bed with him tonight, promising her the world, that he can get her whatever she wants. In the morning though, things will be different. He'll act like he barely knows who she is...that he was too drunk to realize what he was doing. She'll go back to her life...hopefully a little bit wiser.

I would never sleep with Trace. Not even if he paid me to.

After Trace picks the woman of his choosing, he leaves to go dance. I have come to the conclusion that Trace is hanging onto Justin for his fame. I mean, really, why else would he constantly be hanging around the guy? I don't really have an answer...maybe I'm wrong...who knows? It's not like I really know what goes on in Justin's life. It's not like he actually tells me what's happening to him, or what he's thinking about...

I experience a few rushes of drunk partygoers that want refills, who all know Justin one way or the other. Some are celebrities, and some of them are just normal people. None of them seem to care who I am. I'm just hired help to them. They don't know why I'm really here...what I do when they're not around.

Finally, there's a lull. I pour myself a drink, and lean against the bar, scanning the room for something interesting to gaze at. My eyes are immediately attracted to Justin, who is sitting at a sofa at the far end of the room. Many people are surrounding him, but his gaze is only focused on one person...the pretty brunette seated beside him. He's totally into her. Why am I jealous? I shouldn't be...I'm not supposed to have feelings for him. My job is to sleep with him and clean his house. Did he...yes. Oh God, he just kissed her. She's smiling. No, he won't be in need of my services tonight.

They get off the couch. His hands are on her waist, guiding her through the room. He wouldn't dare come over and get her a drink...no...he...

"Gin and tonic...make it two." He doesn't look at me as he puts in his request. Now he's kissing the back of her neck.

"Justin..." the girl coos. "Stop."

She says "stop", but what she's really saying is "stop before I rip off my clothes right here".

I want to throw the gin in his face. Jerk. Wait, what am I saying? He's not my boyfriend! He's my...lord, he's my boss. I'm sleeping with my boss!! Wait...ugh...

"Deja...hurry up." Justin seethes, snapping me out of my anger filled daze.

I pour the drinks, and slide them over to the couple. I don't look at him, and he doesn't care. Justin leads his date away from the bar and back to where they had been sitting. I pour myself another drink, the strongest I can find, and guzzle it down in one gulp. My throat is burning now, and my stomach hurts a little. Now I know why he made me sign that stupid contract.

So I can't run away from him when he pulls shit like this.

"How about a drink beautiful?"

I look toward the owner of the voice. I want to crawl into a hole and die. It's Jason. We dated about a month ago. I dumped him because he was always stoned. How did he get in here? I smile, thinking he must smoke up with Trace once in awhile. That's the only thing that would get a scum bag like him in here.

"What'll it be?" I ask him quickly. The sooner he gets served and is out of my face the better.

"How about you?" He smiles.

He's such a cocky asshole. I glance at Justin again. He's practically having sex with that girl on the couch. Wouldn't it be wonderful to get back at him? No...I can't...he'll take civil action. I'm not allowed to talk to guys. Civil action...I'm trying not to laugh. "Sorry, I can't help you there. I can get you a beer though."

He doesn't like my answer. "You're still the little bitch you always were Dej'. I still can't win can I?

I shake my head. If I try to talk, I'll blow up in his face

"Just give me a fuckin' beer."

The night has been long, and irritating, and Jason is the icing on the cake. He stands there for several minutes, drinking the beer he asked for. He's expecting me to say something to him...but I won't. I won't even look at him. He gets bored, and eventually, leaves. I'm thankful.

More time passes. It's almost three in the morning. Most of the people have left by now. The only people that have stuck around are the ones that are too drunk to go anywhere, and a few couples who are groping each other throughout the house. I'm cleaning up the bar, figuring if anyone wants a drink now they're shit out of luck. They've had enough to drink tonight.

Justin appears out of nowhere. "Get this place cleaned up," he mumbles, half drunk. He is wearing a wife beater and a pair of sweat pants that are halfway on. The girl is nowhere to be found. "I'm kickin’ the rest of 'em out for you."

Isn't he nice? "Gee," I smirk. "Thanks."

"Just the garbage and crap needs to be done...the rest you can worry about tomorrow," he tells me. "Come to my room when you're done."

He stumbles away.

I stare after him. Didn't he just have sex with that girl a little while ago? I guess it doesn't really matter one way or the other. It's not my place to tell him how many girls he can screw in an evening.

The last partygoer has left, and I'm left to clean up the mess everybody left behind. I pull a garbage bag out from under the bar and begin to make my way through the house, picking up all the empty cups, cans, bottles, and plates that are scattered about. I let out a tired sigh. I'm not in the mood to work an extra shift in Justin's bed tonight...but I'm going to have to.

The bastard better let me sleep late tomorrow.
****************
Its barely ten in the morning and I'm already cleaning. Lord Timberlake kicked me out of his room this morning, mumbling something to me about making sure the house was clean. Last night wasn't anything to write home about either. After he was finished getting off on me I stared at the ceiling for a good hour, silently letting myself cry. I thought about what I was doing to myself. I never imagined myself becoming someone’s personal sex slave. I always imagined myself being a model. That was always my dream. I wondered...how long would things go on this way? Would he ever lighten up? The answer was probably a negative one. He doesn't need to lighten up. He's the boss, and the boss can do whatever he wants.

I remember as a kid, when Mom had been alive, I had always loved to be in front of the camera. We had the perfect family, so people thought. I was the good girl, the perfect student...the one everybody wanted to be around...I had the perfect life.

And then the accident happened. It was surreal. Horrible things like that just didn't happen to people like me.

Not long after Mom died, my perfect life became…not so perfect. I remember...he started to drink all the time. He never drank before mom died. Then the late nights started... the late nights he'd come into my room and...touch me…even when I said no. I used to scream to his in his face...to stop... and yet he kept going. My tears went unseen by him and I never understood why.

Why would a father do that to his daughter?

Last night Justin reminded me of him, because of the way he acted when we had sex. It wasn't the same as all the other times. It was rough. I got no pleasure out of it. It was all about him…and the thought that some other girl had been riding his shit a few hours before had grossed me out. It had made me angry too... if he was doing this with other women why did he need me? I wonder if he even knows where that other girl came from. God knows what kind of trash she sleeps with...what kind of diseases she has. He better watch it. I don't need crabs.

Somebody puked on Justin's carpet last night. It smells really bad, and I don't know if I'm going to be able to get the stain out. He's going to be pissed. I hear footsteps behind me and start to scrub the stained carpet again. The last thing I need is him hollering at me for not doing my job.

"What's taking you so long to clean just one room Deja?" he snaps.

I look over my shoulder. He is looming over me, hands on his hips...he looks tired, withdrawn. A moment later I see Trace making his way down the stairs, a girl right behind him. I watch as she passes him on the stairs, she's crying. I feel bad for the girl, Trace is an ass.

I looked back at my employer and rolled my eyes, "It's taking me so long because I'm the only one doing it."

He doesn't seem to hear me, because if he had I definitely would have been getting reamed out for being so cocky. No, I bet he is too busy focusing on the short shirt and pair of shorts I have on. His eyes once again roam my body. Geez, is the guy always horny? I'm not in the mood for this right now.

"I'm outta here J, give me a call," Trace says. The girl has left already. Trace doesn't seem to care. They do their "home boy" shake. At least that's what it looks like, although they probably have some stupid name for it. He leaves.

Justin, of course, waits until Trace is halfway down the driveway before bending down to help me clean the disgustin mess. God forbid Trace saw him helping me clean his damn house. What-an- ass.

"Why are you crying?" he asks. Why does he care?

Crying? I rub my eye. I am. Now I'm mad at myself. I promised myself I wouldn't let him see me cry. "None of your business," I mumble.

"I think it is my business," his tone is serious. "Now tell me why you're crying."

I stand up and throw the wet rag on the floor. I don't care if the rag gets his pretty white carpet filthier than it is. I don't care about anything, I'm tired of his s hit...but I shouldn't be. I haven't been here long enough to be tired yet. This is harder than I thought it was going to be.

"You wanna know? You treat me like you own me...I feel like garbage. I can't talk to you...I can't talk to my best friend...I can't talk to anybody! It's only been a few days and already I'm miserable."

I stare at him, hoping that somewhere in his screwed up mind there is a little compassion. His expression doesn't change, though. He sends me a blank stare. Everything I have just said, went right through him. He doesn't care.

"What do you want from me? I give you a huge house to live in.... I give you an obscene amount of money, so you can stop working in that fucking slut joint... and all you can do is complain!" he hollers. "You signed the fucking paper." He gets up from the floor. "If you're miserable...it's your problem."

A slut joint? Thanks Justin. "It's not a slut joint," I mumble.

He turns toward the stair case. "You're not going to get me to believe that crock of s hit. It's a slut joint...and it will always be a slut joint." he pauses, then smiles. "And you're a slut from the slut joint."

"You don't know anything about my life...or my work...so just shut the hell up!" I holler, not taking the time to hear myself. "You're an asshole!"

I guess he doesn't like what I just said, because a moment later I find myself being slammed against the wall. His hands are on gripping me by the shoulders and his eyes are boring into mine. I physically shudder, afraid he’s going to hit me. I know he’s capable.

"You don't know me either," he growls. "So don't act like you do."

I know I'm crying. I know its probably making him angrier but I don't care. "I'm sorry," I whisper, hoping that he lets me go.

And he does.

He takes a step back and looks around. He looks scared.

"Look what you made me do," he seethes. "Stupid...you're so fuckin' stupid." He grabs his keys off the coffee table and jogs outside. I hear the tires screech and then fade away.

I don't want to cry...and I don't want to just stand there. So, I start to clean. Again.
***************
I drive around for awhile, and then...knowing there is nowhere else to go, I find myself at Trace's house. A few friends of ours came down from Memphis, some of them I haven't seen in years. It's nice. There's a bunch of girls here too. They're winking at me, and smiling. They want me, but I'm too angry to care. I don't remember when I became such a cold hearted guy. I wasn't raised to treat women this way. I was raised to respect them. That said, I don't know why I hired Deja in the first place. I think it's all about control…well that…and that she'll give me sex whenever I want it. It's also nice to have somebody in the house.

I hate being alone.

I almost feel bad about before...about Deja. There was no reason for me to slam her against the wall, and I was a major asshole for doing it. It's just that...sometimes, when I get pissed off I can't control myself...it's like some sort of horrific force takes over my body and I don't know what I'm doing until its too late. It wasn't totally Deja's fault that I got so angry though. This morning Britney called me to tell me that she still loves me. She told me that she was sorry and that she wants to try again. I seriously thought about it for a good minute until I saw images of her and him flash through my mind. Needless to say it set me off. We got into an argument and I hung up on her. I was so angry that she had called me...that she had the nerve to act like after all she put me through that I would just crawl back to her like that. Deja was the first person I saw that morning. I wanted to take my anger out on somebody...and who better to take it out on than a stupid woman like her. Women didn't know how to treat a good man. Women just use you, and suck all the heart out of you, until there's nothing left but a cold heartless bastard...

Now that I think about it, it felt kinda good to slam her up against the wall. I'll probably end up doing it again...the rush is amazing.

And she can't even do anything about it...she's mine.

Trace passes me the joint and I take a hit. The smoke sits in my throat before I cough it out. I feel my body begin to relax, and I begin to laugh for no reason at all. Trace joins in. I love this feeling. I don't have to feel or think or do anything. I begin think about Deja of all people. Why? I shouldn't be thinking about her. She is nothing...just a hoe. She's probably on her hands and knees, scrubbing the crap off of my kitchen floor from last night.

That's kinda shitty.

Oh well. I look back at Trace and he hands me the joint again. I keep it this time and lean back onto the couch. I feel my eyelids start to droop…its getting darker and darker..

I fall asleep.

It didn’t take me long to get over Justin’s little temper tantrum. Things like that don’t affect me that deeply, simply because I have dealt with this sort of situation for a good portion of my life. I just wish I knew why Justin was so angry all the time…because I have no clue. Maybe, if he would just open up to me a little bit, I could help him. Sometimes I wonder if it’s drugs, but then again, if it were drugs he wouldn’t look as good as he does. At least that’s what I think.

Has he hit me yet? Surprisingly enough, the answer is no. Actually, he hasn’t raised a hand to me since that day. Not that I’ve done anything to provoke it. No…he hasn’t done it yet. But I’m sure it won’t be long until I do something to mess things up and make him angry again. It never fails.

It was the same way with Daddy.

It’s been two months, and things haven’t changed. I’m still the live-in housekeeper/sex toy, and he’s still the arrogant son-of-a-bitch that he’s always been. I‘ve been sneaking phone calls to Jade often, letting her know how I’m doing. She’s worried, and she misses me, but at least I know that I can send her money so she doesn’t have to slave at that supermarket anymore. She tells me that she doesn’t want my “sex money”, but I send it to her anyway. I have to. It’s the only thing that makes me feel a little less guilty about leaving her back home by herself. I hope Justin never catches me making a phone call. I’m sure he’ll see to it that I never get to do it again. But then again…maybe if I just ask him about it he won’t care. I mean, it’s only Jade…and I’m pretty sure there’s nothing in that contract that says I can’t talk to my girlfriends.

“Here.”

I look up from my magazine. He is standing over me, handing me his credit card. I’m slightly confused by this, but only slightly. He probably wants me to go to some store and buy him some stupid gift for one of his many stupid bimbos. Yeah, there’s nothing in the contract that says he can’t see other people either. I thought the party was bad…but that was nothing compared to the amount of women I have seen traipsing through this house over the past two months. I take the card from him. “What now?”

“My Mom’s coming over. I need you out of here for a little while,” he tells me. “Take one of the cars and go shopping or something. Get some new lingerie maybe…I’m tired of the ones you have.”

Sex. I think the subject takes up ninety nine percent of his brain capacity. “Why can’t I stay here?” I ask. “Your Mother’s seen me before…she doesn’t care.” Justin’s Mother is a sweet lady. Too sweet. The first time I met her, I was in shock…simply because her son is such a cold hearted bastard. I wondered how someone so cold and uncaring as Justin, could have spawned from such a sweet, loving Mother.

Maybe there’s more to Justin than even his Mother knows about.

He sucks in a breath. “Don’t ask questions. Just do what I tell you to do.”

“I want an explanation.” I say. No, I’m not going to drop like a fly and get ordered around like this. I’ve been here two months…I think I have a right to know what’s going on.

“Bitch.” He mutters. “It’s none of your damn business.” He yanks my arm and pulls me up off the couch. “Get out.”

I push him away. I tend to do that to him now. I’ve gotten a little bolder over time. “I’ll stay if I want to stay.”

“Dej!” he whines.

I’m shocked that he’s whining. He’s never done this before. The situation causes me to let out a small laugh.

“Dej, c’mon…please.”

His voice is soft…human. I have only heard his voice become this calm one other time…the first time we met back at Babes. It’s strange. Nice…he’s…yes…he’s being nice? I feel faint. I feel like I’m dreaming. “Nice.” I blurt out.

“Huh?”

I smile. “You just said please.” I stare at him, waiting for a response. For an instant, I can see a smile begin to appear, but it quickly fades away. He’s never come so close to having a personality before, not around me anyway. I wonder…what’s gotten into him?

“Go out,” he states. “Don’t come back for at least three hours.” He turns his back to me and begins to retreat into the next room.

“Justin…” I call out to him. He stops…turns around. This has never happened before either. Usually, he just keeps going, pretending I’m not there.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Are you…having trouble with something?” It’s the first time I’ve ever gotten up the courage to ask him about himself. About why he’s always so miserable…about why he’s so mean to me.

He looks at me like I have two heads…like I’m some sort of freak for asking him such a thing. “What are you talking about?”

“Why don’t you stop the whole “cold hearted bastard” act, and just tell me what’s really on your mind.” I say, without batting an eye. I don’t know why I’ve decided to be so bold today. Maybe it’s because I just don’t care anymore…maybe it’s because I don’t feel he has the right to keep himself a secret from me anymore. No…he doesn’t. Not if we’re sleeping together. “I mean, nobody is born like this…miserable.”

He stares at me a good long time, not saying anything. I think he’s a little shocked, but he’s trying to hide it. Of course he’s shocked. Up until now, I’ve been a good girl. I’ve lived here, and obeyed his every command…not showing him how upset he has made me on the days where he’s been absolutely impossible to deal with. “It’s not your concern,” he whispers. “Just worry about yourself.”

“I still have to live with you,” I reply. “It’s hard to live with somebody who’s so closed off all the time. Justin…we could be more than we are you know,” I nod. I wait for him to break down in front of me, and confess everything that’s been on his mind for the all this time.

He does the exact opposite.

“More than we are!” he starts to laugh. “More than we are!” He’s laughing harder now, laughing so hard that his face has turned a lovely shade of purple. “More than we are!” he says again.

I’m not laughing.

“Do you actually think that I would take you on as my girlfriend Deja?” He says, once he has gotten a little more control of himself. “You…the dirty little tramp that you are?”

“I didn’t mean girlfriend.” I tell him, trying to maintain what little dignity I have left. “I meant we could be friends…that’s all. I‘m tired of doing…what we do, and not being able to joke around or even talk with you.”

He begins to pace the room nervously. I’m even more confused.

“You think…that because I sleep with you…” he pauses and seems to ponder something for a moment. “That I would stoop down to your level…and…and try to form some kind of bond with you?”

I don’t know why I thought he had changed. Maybe I shouldn’t have drank so much at that party he threw last night. “I’ll be at the store.” I brush past him. No, this wasn’t worth my time. He’s a bastard. He’ll always be a bastard.

And it’s not worth it to try and make him change.
************************
I can’t see the ground. All I know is that it’s blurry and I’m about two seconds away from saying fuck it all and falling to the floor. Maybe Deja will find me in the morning…

No, a bed will be much better.

Mom came by for a little while today…before I went to that party over at Marty’s. It was nice to see her…to talk to her. It was nice to talk to somebody. I don’t do much of that.

Deja wanted to talk. I laughed at her. I shouldn’t have. Sometimes I don’t understand myself. This girl…she isn’t the tramp I had thought she was in the beginning. She has a heart you know? Like…I can see it sometimes, in the middle of the night. I watch her while she sleeps. She looks so peaceful. I wish I felt like that…at peace with myself. Everything is so crazy though, that it’s impossible to be at peace with anything…let alone myself.

I’ll never tell her what I really think of her though. No…I can’t let her know that I’m not the badass I act like I am. She’s just another employee…she could never really care…she could never understand what I’ve been going through…what I am going through…

The lights are on, and that means that she‘s still up. I tug on the door and it opens without much of a struggle. I take a step…another…and then I see her towering over me. Did I fall? My knees…they hurt. Shit, I’m on my freakin’ knees in front of…Deja. Well…who would have thought that his would have ever happened? I try to get up…to get away… but I fall again.

How much of that shit did I take anyway?

“Justin? What happened to you?,” I hear her say. I put my hands out in front of me protectively. I don‘t want her to touch me…no…“Don’t help me,” I spit out, feeling her skin against mine. She isn’t listening. Before I know it, her hands grab my arms, pulling me to my feet. I need her to hold me. I can’t walk…please don’t let go… “Let go,” I mumble.

She’s still not listening because now, we’re climbing the stairs together. Why? Why is she doing this? I treat the girl like garbage. I push her around…I own her. I clumsily push her away from me. I don’t need her help. Justin Timberlake doesn’t need help from anyone.

“Quit pushing me Justin! I’m trying to help you,” her voice is soft. Its kind of sexy. I don’t want sex though. No…just a toilet.

I’m not going to make it.

It’s all over the floor

“Justin, pull yourself together! Your puckin’ all over the place.” She pulls me up again, and this time I’m able to walk. She leaves me in the bathroom and I’m glad. I don’t want anyone to see me. I lean my forehead against the cool ceramic of the toilet bowl. It feels wonderful against my burning skin.

“Justin…do you want to get in bed?”

I look up. She’s a blur. I feel her hands gliding over my face. They’re wet…but the water is cold…wonderfully cold. I’m on my feet again.

Now we’re in my room. The bed. It’s so soft. I snuggle down into it…the blanket somehow wraps itself around me.

“Cut the air down will ya?” I ask.

“Moron.” I hear her say. I’m too tired, and too sick to care though. My eyes close.

She’s leavin’.

And I’m sleepin’.
*************
Last night was wonderful. I spent the rest of the night wee cleaning up that bastard’s puke. Oh yes, it was quite entertaining. It was good to see him groveling for my help for once, though. It was a nice change of pace...his care was in my hands. I could of done something to him. Left him on the front lawn naked…kicked him in the nuts…dressed him up as a woman…but I didn’t. I took care of the little shit. A

And he better remember that too.

I deserve an award.

I had to take two showers this morning to get the smell of vomit out of my hair and off of my body. I would have taken a shower last night too…except I was so exhausted from scrubbing his stupid carpet, that I simply didn’t have the energy.

I knock on the door. I’m about to do another heroic deed for the bastard. I have some aspirins for him. Why am I bothering? He won’t appreciate it.

He doesn’t respond to my knocking, so I open the door. “Justin,” I say softly. I step further into the room. My heart sinks…it shouldn’t. I shouldn’t feel bad…

He’s crying.

With a sigh, I make my way over to his bed, and set the medicine down on the nightstand. “Hey,” I whisper.

“Go away,” a raspy voice replies.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him.

He pushes me, probably with all the strength he has left. It’s not nearly enough to knock me off the bed though, so instead of becoming angry, I laugh at him instead.

“I said go away!” he yells. “I don’t need your sympathy.”

“Did somebody die?” I ask. “Is the world coming to a fucking end Justin?”

“No,” he mutters.

“Then stop feeling sorry for yourself and get out of bed!” I storm out of the room, angry at him. Angry because he has so much success, and a family…a loving family. He takes it all for granted. What could possibly be so terrible, that he has to drink himself into oblivion three times a week?

What a freak.
 

Justin is going on a business trip. He informed me of this a few days after the classic “puking incident“, as I have affectionately named the situation . He’s going for a week…and up until yesterday evening, I had been busy planning the whole week out for myself. It was going to be perfect…a dream come true. I was finally going to get a much deserved break from his greatness. Justin would leave Monday, and I would call up Jade, who I haven’t seen since I’ve been living here, and she would come stay with me until he returned from his trip to New York. I had it all planned…

“Did you pack my ties?”

We were going to raid the fridge together. “Yes Justin.”

“And all of my suits?”

And sunbathe topless. “Yes Justin.”

He strokes his chin in thought for a moment. “Can you think of anything I forgot to pack?”

“No,” I mutter.

“Then let’s go,” he says, motioning for me to follow.

I don’t move.

“What is it?” He asks, seeing my reaction to his command. “You forgot a suit didn’t you? “

No, I’m not getting a break. It’s really sinking in now. I’m not getting a break. No…because lucky me…I have the privilege of joining him on his little business trip. I should have figured as much, because he probably doesn‘t trust me enough to stay alone in his house for a week anyway. Besides, who would be there to unpack his suitcases, or satisfy his sexual desires if I don‘t go? This sucks. “I‘m coming,” I answer. “I didn’t forget anything.” Really…I could probably think about ten things that the guy forgot to pack…but I’m too angry to bother telling him. Christ, why can’t I just have a damn break?

“C‘mon then,” he says. “We‘re already behind schedule.” He walks out the front door, carrying the lightest of his suitcases along with him. I guess I’m supposed to get the rest. I want to scream.

“You ready?” Trace smiles at me, before picking up one of Justin’s suitcases to carry.

Trace is coming along as well. Aren’t I fortunate? I must be the luckiest woman in the entire world. “Mmmhmm.” I hum, picking up my single suitcase, as well as one of Justin’s. I drag both myself and the luggage out the door and over to Justin’s awaiting limo. Eric is there, along with another bulky looking man. I’m guessing this is simply just another one of Justin’s security people…and after a few moments I realized that I am correct. He takes the bags that I’m carrying, and motions me to go back to the house to get the rest of Justin’s belongings.

Boy, Justin really does train his people well doesn’t he? I steal a quick glance at the limo before I make my way back toward the house. Trace and Justin are leaning against the car. Justin of course, is in another world, talking into his cell phone. Trace however, is intently watching me…getting extreme pleasure out of watching me do Justin’s dirty work.

I hate Trace.

“Come on girl! Hurry up!” He chuckles. “You’re too slow. I hope you’re not this slow when…” He would have finished his sentence, if Justin hadn’t nudged him in the ribs. For a moment I’m a little surprised that Justin has stood up for me at all, but then I realize that the only reason he probably did it, was to ensure his security people won’t get any weird ideas about me.

“Deja…let’s go!” Justin grunts, before getting into the limo.

Sucking in a breath, I do as I’m told. The rest of the baggage is heavier than the rest. What the hell did he put in them? Weights? Who knows. I struggle with them…and neither Eric, nor the other man bothers to help me. Only when I reach the car, do they help me get the bags into the trunk.

I think the worst is over when I get inside the limo. But of course, I’m wrong again. The entire ride consists of Justin yakking on his phone and barking orders at me, Trace making snide remarks about me and anything else he can think of, and me pouring them both drinks and popping various CD’s of their choosing into the player.

I guess I got the maid act down pat.

***********************

It’s a good thing that there was a flight attendant available during the flight, or I probably would have been volunteered to make the drinks, and prepare the snacks. It’s a really good thing…because it was the only chance I’ve had to relax since we’ve started our little trip. We’ve only been in New York a little over twelve hours and I’m already set to call it quits. Apparently, Justin doesn’t trust me to stay by myself in the hotel room either. I’ve had to accompany him and his stupid friend to every single stupid thing on his agenda since we’ve landed, being introduced as Trace‘s cousin of all things.

What an insult.

I never knew how grueling a celebrities schedule could be…but I sure do now. We’ve been to countless offices, radio stations, and photographers…so many that I can’t remember the names of any of them. I really don’t know how Justin remembers everybody’s name…but he does. Everyplace that we’ve gone…he’s known everybody’s name. And everybody loves him…

It’s nauseating. It’s nauseating because he’s really not at all what these people make him out to be.

“This isn’t cold enough,” he hands his glass of water back to me, while keeping his gaze focused on the television. “You didn’t put enough ice in.”

On top of everything else, I didn’t get my own hotel room either. This has pissed me off more than anybody will ever know. All the money he has and he couldn’t even get me my own place to sleep? He couldn’t find it in his heart to let me be alone, so I could get a few hours away from him? No…no he couldn’t.

Arrogant son-of-a….

“Deja…the water isn’t getting any colder,” he tells me, still holding out the glass for me to take.

I am about to burst, literally. I ponder the idea of taking the water and thrusting it in his face, and I’m starting to think it’s a great idea. Then his phone starts to ring. I hate that phone. Listening to his conversation for several moments, I figure out that he’s talking to one of his random girlfriends. It makes me cringe. He’s being so nice to her…telling her that he’ll see her tomorrow night and blah, blah, blah. Why don’t I just yak now? Frustrated both with his attitude, and that he’s seemed to have forgotten all about his need for colder water, I grab the glass out of his hand and make my way into the bathroom. I dump the water out in the sink and push the door closed, making sure to lock it.

Finally…alone…peace. I’m not coming out. I’ll sleep in here. He’s gonna have to bust down the damn door before I’ll come out. I guess he’ll have to find somebody else to sleep with tonight. Maybe he’ll take civil action. Screw him and his civil action.

I’m looking in the mirror. I’m a mess. I look tired…withdrawn. Who wouldn’t be with the kind of crap I put up with? I need to sleep…sleep is good…

BAMBAMBAM

“Deja!”

He’s pounding on the door. I guess his phone conversation has been cut short. Oh well…not my problem. I don’t answer him. No, I won’t. I’m getting some peace tonight.

“Open the damn door!”

I close my eyes and sink down to the floor. The banging continues. I really don’t care. I don’t…I don’t…I don’t…

“I’m gonna kick in this fucking door Deja!”

He’s angry, no, he’s enraged. He probably will kick in the door. He’s crazy when he gets angry. He’s like a monster. God…I wish he would just grow up. I’m supposed to be here to be his mistress…not his ever reliable servant. That’s Trace’s job. Why can’t Justin go bother him? Why is it always me? I should have listened to Jade…I should have just taken the ten grand and stood him up the following night. “Go away,” I tell him after several more moments of listening to him bang on the door. “You’re giving me a headache, Justin.”

The pounding only grows louder, and more rapid. “You don’t tell me what to fucking do!” He screams.

I stick my fingers in my ears. I’m sure I’m safe. I’ve convinced myself that if he was going to kick the door in he would have done…

I thought too soon. The door has just been kicked wide open. Justin is standing before me now. He looks so angry…like he might kill somebody. I’m shaking. I need to calm down. This is Justin…he couldn’t hurt me that badly…he couldn’t.

“Get up,” he seethes. He storms over to me and pulls me up off the ground by my hair. I yelp in pain. It doesn’t phase him. “What were you thinking?” he asks, gripping my hair tighter in his fist.

“I…I…” I stutter. No…I can’t be afraid…I can’t act like this in front of him. I can’t let him think he has total control…even though I know he does. I suck in a breath. “I was tired,” I manage.

He lets out a small laugh. “Wrong answer,” he tells me. He slaps me across the face with the back of his free hand.

I scream. The entire left side of my face is throbbing. It hurts…it hurts so bad…

He’s never done that before. He’s come close…but he never actually put a hand on me before. I’m scared now. More scared of him than I’ve ever been. I look into his eyes, and the instant he lets his eyes meet mine, he lets go of me. He’s trembling. I understand. I back up against the wall. For several moments, neither of us say a word.

“Deja,” he says finally. He won’t look at me.

I don’t respond. I’m too scared. Too scared of what he might do if I say the wrong thing.

He begins to chew on his bottom lip. “Wash your face,” he whispers.

I do. The cool water feels good against the throbbing portion of my face. When I finally bring myself to turn off the water and turn around to face him again though, he’s not there. I exit the bathroom. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed. I don’t have to question how sorry he feels about what he’s done. The sorrowful look on his face tells me all I need to know. No, hitting me was never his intention. If he could control his damn temper, it probably wouldn’t have happened.

“I shouldn’t have ever gotten you into this whole thing,” he tells me.

I’m shocked. Justin has never been this personal with me before…but I guess the occasion might call for it. You know, it’s not everyday that a girl gets lucky enough to be slapped across the face by Justin Timberlake. “I got myself into it,” I shrug. “Let’s go to bed.”

He’s silent for a moment. “Don’t act like nothing happened,” he grumbles.

I get into bed with him. I don’t want to talk anymore. I’ve been through enough today…I need to save the rest of my sanity for tomorrow…for the rest of this fucking week. I pull the covers over my head, slipping into my own world. The one where there is nobody but me…the perfect world.

“Deja.”

I wish he would leave well enough alone. “What,” I mumble. The covers are tugged off of me. Justin is all I can see. He kisses me. Not now…please not now.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispers in my ear.

“Yes you did,” I say. I probably shouldn’t have, but right now I’m so tired…and so angry…my emotions are speaking for themselves. He gets off of me. I feel my body tense up again…waiting for the next slap to come.

“Night,” he mutters.

The light goes out.

I am still awake. No, I won’t sleep tonight.

I wonder what joys tomorrow will bring?

***********************

“Deja.”

I open my eyes.

The lights are flipped on. I groan. The side of my face that got slapped still hurts. There’s probably a nice big bruise there by now. Great. He’ll probably yell at me for that too. Once my eyes become accustomed to the light…I see him. He’s standing in front of the wall mirror, straightening out his jacket. I look at the clock. What?

It’s four o’clock in the morning.

“Get up, get dressed,” he grumbles. “Gotta eat before the cavalry rises.”

Cavalry? He’s not making any sense. It’s too early…maybe I’m dreaming. I shake my head vigorously, trying to snap out of whatever dream it is that I’m in. Nothing happens. Yes, this is real… “Cavalry,” I get out, in a hoarse whisper. “It’s four in the…”

“I know what time it is Deja,” he sneers. “Get up now.” He walks out of the bedroom. Moments later I hear the television blaring. He’s waiting for me.

Christ, I don’t want to get up now…but I know I don’t have a choice in the matter. Slowly, reluctantly, I roll out of the comfort of the bed and stumble into the bathroom. I look in the mirror…it’s as I feared. I have a huge bruise next to my left eye. I mean…it’s horrible. I don’t know how I’m supposed to cover it up. Sunglasses? Maybe. I wonder if Justin will know what to do?

Great. Now I’m going to rely on Mr. Personality to help me cover up the bruise he gave me.

I don’t want to keep him waiting too long, so I quickly shower and get dressed. I look in the mirror again. It’s still just as bad. I put on some foundation…no, that doesn’t help. I guess it’ll have to be the sunglasses.

I go into the next room to meet Master, and get my daily list of commands rambled off to me. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares. It’s the bruise…I know it is. I act like I don’t know what his problem is. I sit down on the couch with him and take the remote, starting to channel surf. Infomercial…weather channel…infomercial…ooo Toss and Chop.

“You gonna cover that up?” he asks me after several minutes.

I look at him. “I don’t know what you expect me to do,” I say.

“Well…you can’t just walk around like that,” he grumbles, snatching the remote from me. “What will people think?”

“I’ll say I walked into the wall,” I say. Lord, what an asshole he is. Last night…I thought he felt bad, but now all he seems to feel bad about, is the fact that somebody might blame him for this. I hate him…I hate him…

“Idiot,” he snaps. “Nobody is going to believe that you walked into the wall.”

Thanks Justin. “Well then what do you suggest?” I huff, crossing my arms. I let out a long yawn. I’m too tired for this. Breakfast at four AM? Who does this?

“Well…I guess you’ll need to get a pair of sunglasses,” he decides. “But for now, just wear your hair down.”

“I’m not comfortable with my hair down,” I say. He doesn’t like my answer.

“You’re just saying that to piss me off,” he grunts. “You’re a little bitch.”

He’s going back to his specialty…emotional abuse. I guess he figures he can get more enjoyment for himself by tormenting me this way. I guess he figures if he sticks to emotional abuse…he doesn’t have to worry about leaving a visible mark on me…he doesn’t have to worry about somebody finding out what a big prick he is. I feel like slapping him now...I want him to know how it feels. “Thank you,” I state. It was bold. I don’t care. It’s four in the damn morning.

“Don’t be smart,” he says, rising from the couch. “Take your hair out of that stupid bun, and put it down…before you have a bruise on the other side of your face.”

I hate him. I take my hair down. He smiles. I feel the tears begin to well up behind my eyes. They want him to know how much he’s hurt me. I won’t let them. I suck in a deep breath, choking back a sob as I do so.

“C’mon,” he says. He leads the way out of the hotel room. He walks briskly, making certain that I am lagging behind him at all times. Only when we stop in front of another room halfway down the corridor, does he let me have the honor of standing next to him. He knocks. The door opens. It’s Trace. He looks just as groggy as I feel. He mumbles what sounds like a good morning, and then we continue on our way.

The three of us ride the elevator in complete silence. Finally, the doors part and we step out into civilization again. I’m thankful…

Almost thankful.

“Oh m’God.”

There are girls. At least a dozen of them. Eric is standing a few feet away from them, making sure they don’t get too close to us. Funny, I don’t think Justin even called him down here…maybe it was Trace? Yes, that’s probably it. The girls all look like they’ve just rolled out of bed. They sport heavy looking winter jackets, and bulky looking knapsacks. They’re here to see him….they’ve probably been hanging around here for hours now. They know his schedule…they’re fans. It’s sweet, but at the same time it’s kind of repulsive. These girls idolize him…worship the ground he walks on…would give anything for one night with him. He’s not worth it…I wish I could tell them that. I wish I could tell them that Justin Timberlake isn’t worth lusting after. I wish I could tell them how he treats me.

“Shit,” I hear Justin mutter. “Never fails.”

Now I know why he’s up so early. This must be part of the “cavalry” he was referring to back in the room.

“Hi Justin,” one of the bolder ones manage. She’s pretty, but I’m sure she would be much prettier if she had a shower and had a chance to fix herself up. Christ, how long have these girls been camping out here anyway?

“Hello,” he grumbles. No, he’s not in the mood for this. But then again, who would be at four in the morning?

“Let us get some breakfast,” Trace says, speaking for his friend. “Then he’ll give you whatever it is that you need.”

“Just a picture,” another girl protests, stepping as far forward as Eric will allow her. “We’ve been here all night.”

It’s too early for this. These girls aren’t fans…they’re obsessive psychos.

“Later,” Justin promises them. “I’ll be back.” He mumbles something to Eric, before starting away again. We follow. I hear several “I love you’s” and “Justin’s!” before I am halfway to the door. Good lord…it’s amazing that someone like Justin could have fans that are so devoted to him. I wonder if he appreciates that…

“Fuckin’ sluts.” Justin mutters, pushing through the doorway.

Apparently not.

I feel like telling him that those girls are the reason he has enough money to pay me to sleep with him. Of course I don’t though.

Ten minutes later I find myself sitting in a little diner that lies down the street from the hotel. The place is practically empty. The waitress, who looks like she has had way too much caffeine for her own good, greets us, and takes our order. After she leaves, I immediately revert my gaze toward the window…and try to be as silent as possible. I hope that Trace will be too tired to recognize that I exist this morning, and simply start a pointless conversation with his friend instead.

“What the hell happened to your face?”

Great.

I look at him. What am I supposed to say?

“She walked into the wall,” Justin laughs.

I thought I was an idiot for thinking up that excuse. Apparently not…apparently Mr. Charisma…Mr. Originality couldn’t come up with anything better.

“The wall?“ Trace is laughing at me now. Justin has joined him. I guess Trace is stupid enough to believe that I walked into a wall. I guess Trace is just stupid period.

I am never more thankful when the waitress returns. The men start to chow down on their monstrous breakfast platters…like they haven’t eaten in weeks. I on the other hand, have only ordered a coffee. Why?

At this point I don’t think I could stomach anything else.

“What’re you thinking about?”

I ignore her. This is ridiculous. Why in the world did I do this? I never do this. I never have sex with fans…well, not fans that wait outside hotels for me anyway. Those are the worst kind. This is crazy. It’s crazy because I wasn’t even drunk…or high when I decided to invite her up here with me…it was my choice. I shoulda just had some fun with Deja…this wasn’t worth my time.

“Justin?”

I’m still ignoring her. Crap, I hope she’s really nineteen…or if she’s not…I hope she’s on birth control.

I hit her…Deja I mean. I still feel shitty about it. I’ve felt shitty about it since it happened. She’d never know it though. Not with the way I treated her today. And I really meant it when I said I never should have gotten her into this whole thing…I shouldn’t have. Nobody should have to put up with what she has to. Maybe…I’ll try to make it up to her…that I hit her. Yeah, I think I will. It would be…nice. Yes. Nice. But, what the hell could I possibly do to make something like this up to her? Maybe I’ll just ask her what she wants.

“Are you mad at me Justin?”

Lord, is she still here? I look at her. Jesus! Britney…how the fuck? I blink my eyes several times. Britney’s gone. It’s that girl again. Christ…what the hell is up with me? Now I’m hallucinating. Great. This is great. I only have to face fuckin’ Clive and half a dozen other record execs tomorrow morning. No big deal right? If any of them turn into Britney…I’ll just try to blink ‘er away.

Crap. This isn’t good.

“Justin,” she says. Jesus, she’s crying. I’m kicking her out. This is too much.

“Okay…look.” I tell the girl. “I’m not mad at you.”

She smiles. She’s relieved. “Do you like me?”

What a psycho. “I think you should go,” I tell her. I get out of the bed and slip my shirt over my head. “It’s been fun.”

“Huh?”

Here we go. “You should go.” I repeat.

“But…”

Lord. “Get your stuff.”

She continues to sniffle and cry and carry on until I take it upon myself to pack up her stuff, and shove her out into the hallway. It’s a good thing she’s already dressed. “Thanks,” I tell her, flashing her a small smile.

“Wait…”

I close the door in her face. I laugh. That was wrong. But really, why should I give a fuck? She knew what she was getting into…it’s not my problem if she didn’t like it. I tell Deja that a lot too…that she signed the paper and it’s not my problem if she doesn’t like what goes on.

I shouldn’t have hit her. I really shouldn’t have.

I sent Deja out to pick up some sunglasses to hide the bruise on her face. I couldn’t bring myself to go with her. It would have made the guilty feeling much worse than it already is. She’s been gone for a couple of hours now. I don’t blame her. If I were her, I would probably want to stay away from me too. Maybe that’s why I did it…had sex with that little hoe. I was alone…I felt useless. I wanted to feel needed again...so I went downstairs with Eric and picked one of them out of the crowd.

It was a bad decision.

That girl only wanted to feel my dick inside her. Just like every other girl that I’ve ever been with, including Britney. She said she loved me…that she wanted to be with me forever. It was all a bunch of shit. She wanted to be with Justin Timberlake…she wanted to be seen with me at award shows…at clubs…she wanted me to make her bigger than she already was.

And it worked too.

I haven’t let myself trust another woman since her. I mean…I loved her. Not just loved like…a physical kind of love. I mean, I really loved her. My heart and soul belonged to her. I knew I was going to marry her…I knew I was going to have my children with her. I knew I was going to grow old and die with her. But you know what?

I didn’t know shit.

I don’t look for relationships anymore. I just have a Deja. Deja isn’t like the rest. I know why she’s with me…she’s with me because I put her here. I don’t have to lie awake at night and question if she’s with me for me or with me for my bank roll. In a way, it’s the perfect relationship. She’s obligated to me…she’ll never be with anybody else…she’s mine. I don’t know how I’m supposed to let her go when the contract is up. I’ll be so used to her by then, I know I won’t have enough strength to just let her leave and be on my own.

Maybe I’ll just offer her some more money, and extend the contract until 2004. Yeah, that’ll work.

The door opens. Deja walks in. It’s a good thing I kicked that girl out of here. I mean, I know she knows I have sex with other women besides her, but it would have been embarrassing to be caught in the act. I know she already has a low opinion about me…no need to be going and making it worse.

“Here,” she says, tossing the credit card on the bed. “Sorry I took so long.”

“Where the hell were you.” I grumble.

She drops her shopping bag on the floor. “I went to Sunglass Hut, and then I took a peek in Coach. Sorry.” She mumbles.

Why do I act like everything she does is a fucking crime? I hate myself. “It’s fine,” I mutter, sitting down on the bed.

She’s staring at me. It’s that shocked look again. I almost laugh, but I quickly recover. She always gets that shocked look on her face when I’m a little bit nice…or understanding with her. I wish I could let her see me…the real me. The real me jokes around…the real me laughs, and smiles…the real me doesn’t treat women like garbage.

I can’t be that way with her. She’ll just end up taking advantage of me…

Like the rest.

“Trace was downstairs,” she yawns, taking a seat on the chair by the window. “He wants to know if you’re going to meet him for dinner.”

Right. I knew I forgot something. “Yeah, I almost forgot.” I pull out my phone and begin to dial. “Thanks babe…”

That slipped. It fucking slipped. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I look at her. It’s the shocked face again…times a million. I hear Trace pick up on the other end of the line. I hang up. I can’t possibly get any words out at this moment. The phone starts ringing after a few seconds. I ignore it.

“I thought I was a tramp,” she says. “I thought…”

“Shut up.” I tell her.

“I thought you were too good to be like that with me.”

She’s making me angry now. “Just shut up Deja.”

She starts to laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

She shouldn’t have started to laugh…she should have shut up, like I told her to. I’m not sitting anymore, I‘m standing in front of her now. Christ, I don’t want to hurt her…My hand is in the air. She’s shaking…cowering before me.

“Don’t!” She screams.

She’s crying.

Crap.

I make myself lower my hand before I end up hitting her again. “I…”

She runs into the bathroom. The door slams shut. She’s probably locked herself in again. I think they fixed the door today. It’s fine. She can stay in there.

I would lock myself away too if I were her.

I guess I’ll just go to dinner now. No sense in staying here, and making her more upset.

Damn.

*********************

It’s one in the morning…I came out of the bathroom a little while ago. Justin’s back, but he’s sleeping. I still don’t know what the hell happened. One second he was being the usual dickhead that he always is, then he was calling me “babe” of all things. It was weird…so weird that I laughed at him. Yeah, that was the wrong choice. But at least he came to his senses before he ended up hitting me again.

The sunglasses cover the bruise well. I iced it this afternoon too, while I was locked inside the bathroom. I think it helped, because it looks a lot better than it did this morning. Hopefully, after another twenty four hours go by, I won’t even need the damn sunglasses anymore.

Tomorrow…tomorrow is Wednesday. Four more days until we go back to Tennessee. I can’t wait. I’ve never been to New York before…but after this trip, I never want to come back. Justin has officially ruined this trip for me. More so than I imagined he would have.

But hey, I got a neat Coach pocketbook and a pair of Gucci sunglasses out of the deal.

Tired now, I change out of my clothes and into my pajamas. I try to slip into the bed as smoothly and as quietly as I can. I don’t want to wake him. I’m not in the mood to be groped by him tonight.

“Hey.”

Damn. It figures. “Hi,” I whisper. Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll fall back to sleep.

The light goes on. No, he’s not going back to sleep. “You alright?”

He’s not too swift. I pull the covers over me and close my eyes. Maybe if I keep them closed…he’ll think I fell asleep.

“Deja.”

I don’t answer. Sleeping fool…I’m sleeping.

“I know you’re not sleeping, Deja.”

My eyes snap open. I want to scream. “What now?”

He sits up in bed. “I need to…ask you something.”

Weird. He’s acting so damn weird. I don’t say anything…I just stare at him. He…

He smiles at me.

“Jesus,” I blurt out. Great.

“Girl, you look so funny when you stare at me like that,” he says, still smiling.

I’ve never seen him act so much like a normal human being before. It’s scaring me. I’m nauseated. Maybe he’s acting this way on purpose. Maybe he’s trying to see if he can drive me absolutely out of my skull before this week is up.

“I wanted to know,” he continues. “If there’s anything I can do…for you.”

Okay…I think I’m gonna puke. “Huh?”

“I…feel bad about what happened today…and the other night,” he tells me. “I just wanted to know if I could do something for you,” he looks away from me. “That’s all.”

Maybe I’ll just kill him. I’m sure I could plead insanity and get away with it. “Do something for me?” I stammer. I’m trembling. Partially from anger and partially from my nerves being so shot. “You want to do something for me Justin…fine. You can start by treating me as a member of the goddamn human race!”

He won’t look at me.

Maybe he’s changing…although I have no idea why he would be now. Before…when he tried to hit me again, he was acting like he always has. What’s different about right now? Why does he feel bad now? Maybe I was wrong about him. Maybe the guy just has problems…

That’s still no excuse for the shit I’ve been putting up with for two months.

“I just wanted to be…nice,” he says. Nice…the word sounds so foreign coming out of his mouth. “You’ve been putting up with a lot. Just tell me…anything you want, I’ll do it for you.”

This is so weird. Anything? A million different things run through my head before I remember the most obvious thing on my list. Jade. I need to see Jade. “Jade,” I tell him.

He cocks his head to the side. “Who?”

“My friend…the one I lived with,” I explain. The look on his face is telling me he doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about.

“Oh,” he nods. “Well…yeah. What…do you want to see her or something?”

I nod my head vigorously.

He smiles again. “You got it. When we get back…the first thing I’ll do is have her come to the house.”

So weird. “Uh…thanks,” I get out. Part of me wants to smile and think good thoughts about him…but the other part of me is telling me not to believe a word out of his mouth. The other part of me is saying that the moment we get back home…he’s going to act like he never promised me anything.

I’m not going to hold my breath.

“C’mere.” He whispers. The lights go out again.

I feel his lips on my neck moments later. He’s going to get his way. But I’m sure I’m not going to get mine.

I give into him…but that’s normal. The only normal thing that’s happened all day.

Weird.

*****************

“This one?”

Justin’s nervous. He shakes a midnight blue jacket at me. The thing probably costs as much as an efficiency apartment in Soho. He’s going to some business meeting. I’m not sure what its about, and I don’t bother asking. All I know is…it’s really important. So important in fact, that he has stooped so low as to ask me what to wear.

“Deja…come on,” he barks, throwing the hanger on the bed and pulling the jacket on. It looks ridiculous with his gray t-shirt and boxers.

“That one’s good,” I yawn.

“Don’t lie to me.” He shakes

I roll my eyes. “I’m not lying. I said the jacket is fine. Just find the right pants and you’ll be golden. Believe me or don’t believe me…I don’t care.”

“You yawned,” he points out. “You yawned when you said it was fine. What‘s that supposed to be telling me Deja? That I‘m boring?…That this outfit is boring? I‘m not supposed to be boring…I‘m supposed to be fresh…hot…the biggest thing out there.”

Omigod…

I’m trying so hard not to laugh at him right now. Not only is he an egomaniac…but he has the personality of a five year old as well. I can’t help myself…I let a giggle escape me.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me,” he seethes, wrenching the jacket off and throwing it at me. I catch it with one hand and smile, smoothing it against me.

The sex was great last night. I can tell he enjoyed it as well, because he’s in one of his “good moods” this morning. Yes, this is a good mood for him. Probably his best…around me anyway. “Justin, you’ve been in this business forever. You know what to wear and what not to wear,” I inform him, laying the jacket on the bed. “You don’t need my opinion.”

“Oh…so I’m wrong because I’m asking you for your opinion?” he snaps. “You’re a little bitch, Deja.”

He’s ridiculous. So ridiculous that I laugh at him. Yea, he’ll probably take a swing at me again. It’s fine…well not really. But I know I’ll get over it easily. I’m used to it.

“Bitch,” he repeats then turns toward the open closet and finds the matching trousers.

I get up and start away from him. It’s not long before I feel him behind me. He grabs me by my upper arm and spins me around. I don’t make a sound. I smile. “Do you feel better now Justin?” I ask. “Are you in control again?”

He is silent. Oh, have I struck a chord? “Are you?”

“F-fuck you,” he whispers. “You don’t know shit.”

There’s a soft knock on the door. “Hey, you better get your ass in gear, boy,” sings a voice from the other side. “You got places to go, people to see.”

“Shut up, Trace,” Justin hisses at the door. He glares at me, then tromps toward the bathroom.

My gaze lights on the jacket, the trousers, then the closed bathroom door. A slow smile creeps across my face. I finger a strand of my hair as the realization hits me.

I’ve just won a round.

he rest of our time in New York is actually tolerable. The air around me is strangely lighter, like I’d been in a vacuum for the last few months and suddenly I’d been set free. For the first time since I was bought and paid for, I can breathe. Not that it’s perfect. No way. With Mr. “My Bathroom Breaks Don’t Stink“? He still tosses orders at me, throws Trace a leer and a wink when he spouts out some off-colored pearl of wisdom in my direction. Somehow those words aren’t as hurtful as they once were. Is it because I’ve toughened up or, perhaps, Justin doesn’t seem to be so cruel anymore? I keep this realization to myself. If he’s mellowing, so be it. I won’t tell if you don’t.

“What’s a four letter word for disguise?”

I look up from my magazine. Justin is staring at me intently, nibbling on the end of his pen cap. I can’t help but smile…he smiles back.

That’s never happened before.

“Costume,” Trace replies.

I roll my eyes. “That’s not four letters.”

Justin laughs out loud. “You dumb bass.”

He’s in a great mood today. I think it has something to do with the meeting he had the other day. Something must have happened…yes. He must have gotten his way.

Just like always.

Trace is glaring at me. Nice…for once I’m the one that’s laughing at him. “Try mask,” I tell Justin.

His eyes grow wide. “Oh yeah,” he smirks, while filling in the spaces on the paper. “Duh.”

I smile. Change. Change is good…especially when you’re in the kind of situation that I’m in. I hope things keep changing. I hope that by the end of the month, Justin will have become a whole new person.

A person I can joke with…a person I can laugh with. Hell, maybe even a person I can be friends with, as strange as that may seem.

As of right now…Jade is the only friend/family I have in the entire world. I look forward to going back to Tennessee…I look forward to seeing her again. I can’t wait to see her again in fact. You should see all the shit I bought for her since I’ve been here. She’s gonna be so surprised…

“Think your smart Deja?”

I look past Justin, and let my gaze fall on the voice’s owner. Trace is glaring at me. I wish he would butt out. Stupid ass. I didn’t do anything to him. “What’s your problem?” I huff.

“You’re trying to make me look stupid,” he mutters.

“I can‘t make you look stupid,” I blurt out. “You already are.”

Justin looks at me. He is silent, his gaze is emotionless. I’m not sure what to think. Is he mad? Is he amused? It’s so hard to tell with him.

“Fuckin Christ! Justin…teach this girl some manners.” Trace snaps. “Thinks she can say whatever to whoever…” he leans forward a little so he can get a better view of my face. “Do you even know who I am?”

I want to laugh. No…don’t laugh Deja…no… “Sorry,” I whisper. I’m sure my face is bright red…yes. It’s taking all of my strength to hold the laughter in. I cover my mouth with my hand. A short, almost silent giggle escapes me. Crap.

A queer sort of smile appears on Justin’s face. He cocks his head to the side. Amused? Yes…maybe he is. “What’s with you?” he half laughs half whispers.

“What’s with you?” I reply. It’s an honest question.

His eyes are full of playfulness.

Change is good.

“We should talk,” he begins, leaning in closer to me. “Later…at home.”

I nod. Weird…weird but good.

“Aren’t you goin’ to…” Trace begins.

“Don’t worry about it.” Justin tells him.

Trace doesn’t say anything to me after that. About twenty minutes later, I find myself on the plane, seated next to Justin. His headphones are hanging around his neck, blaring some sort of mellow rock music. He is asleep…but he looks so peaceful.

Yes…peaceful. Perhaps, he is at peace with himself, finally.

******************

Five hours later we are back in Tennessee. The surroundings are the same…but the mood is much different. I didn‘t dread coming back here though. I felt…relaxed, and even a little happy to be back. I thought the feelings I had might have been due to Justin’s behavior on the plane. No, he hadn’t asked me to do a thing for him…or his skuzzy friend. Yes, the trip back home was different…much different than the trip had been when we had left home. Justin and I even talked a little bit…not about anything that significant though. He was rambling on and on about that meeting he went to. He says his solo project has been approved….that it’s going to be released later this year. I guess that’s good…and he seems to be excited about it.

Maybe now he’ll be able to keep his mind focused on something else besides making my life miserable.

We finally arrive at the house I have come to know so well, and get out of the car. Surprisingly, Justin carries a couple of his bags this time, leaving me the lighter ones. I smile at him, and he winks at me. Another change…

“Thanks for getting my bags Deja.”

I glance over my shoulder, just in time to catch Trace glaring at me. He throws his bags down on the ground and pushes past me. He’s pissed because I didn’t carry his stuff. You know, I’m starting to think that Trace is worse than Justin…he has a terrible attitude…and he’s nasty…

Good thing I don’t have to sleep with him.

Instead of getting angry at him, I decide to be a smart ass instead. After all, he’s not Justin. It’s because of this I feel I can say what I want to him, and not suffer any consequences. “Quit bitching…your fat ass needed to work out,” I smirk.

He doesn’t like what I say…his gaze turns colder…darker. “You’re the fucking hired help,” he snaps at me. “Don’t fucking act like you’re more just because you’re fuckin’ Justin every night…you’re nothi n but a glorified prositute,” he spits at my feet. “That’s all you’ll ever be.”

I don’t express any emotion. I can’t. I can’t let him win. I glance at Justin. He’s standing there…no…I don’t think he knows exactly what to do. I manage to spread another smirk across my face. “I know what I do,” I tell him. “But anything has to be better than mooching off of your friend instead of getting a real job.”

I hear Justin snort out a laugh. I look at him. He’s biting his bottom lip. I don’t think he was expecting me to be so bold with Trace…I don’t think I expected myself to be either.

He slaps me across my face, in the exact spot Justin had a few days ago. I let out a whimper…my back hit’s the wall. I clutch my cheek…and try to fight back the tears I know are trying to get through. I don’t speak…no…I’m too shocked to speak. Trace barrels toward me again, and stops inches from me. His face is close to mine…his breath is hot…and it smells. He was drinking on the plane…yeah. He raises his hand to me. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for what I know is coming…

“What the fuck?”

I open my eyes again. What I see makes me think I have been kicked in the head instead of just slapped in the face. Justin has pinned Trace up against the wall. His fist is in Trace’s face…

He’s read to punch him?

I blink…once…twice…

This is real.

“J…c’mon….” he whimpers.

I guess he’s not so tough when he’s up against another male.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Justin seethes. He lets go of him and pushes him away. “Don’t fuckin’ hit her again.”

Justin has just stood up for me. The phrase repeats itself in my mind over and over again. Justin has just stood up for me…

“Deja, upstairs now.”

I snap out of my daze, and after giving Trace a final look of disgust, I grab my bags and run upstairs. I’m shaking now. I laugh at myself. Shaking. Why? Not because Trace slapped me…no…I know that’s not why. Well…it could be part of the reason, but I think it has to do more with what Justin did. I hear the door slam downstairs…footsteps follow. The next thing I know, the door to the bedroom flies open, and Justin is there. I look at him. I don’t know what to say…hell, I don’t even know what to think.

“You really should watch your mouth Deja,” is all he has to say. Then he starts to pace the room…yea, I know he’s scared. I would be too if I were him. Like, if I had pushed Jade up against the wall…yeah…I would feel just like he does right now.

“I’m sorry Justin,” I whisper.

He doesn’t slow his pacing. “I never…I mean…I don’t treat women like this, like I treat you.”

Now I really think I’ve been kicked in the head. I stare at him, my eyes are wide…my mouth is gaping. I don’t think he notices. He keeps talking.

“I mean, I love being in relationships Deja…I love loving a girl…I love making her happy ya know?” he sighs and runs his hand across his head harshly. “It’s just that…no matter how hard I’ve loved a girl…no matter how much I’ve tried to please her…it’s just never seemed to work. It’s made me bitter Deja…bitter and cold. I mean…” he pauses and sits down on the bed beside me. “I look in the mirror right? And the guy that’s there isn’t me. I…don’t even know who the hell I am anymore.”

His eyes meet mine. They’re glazed over, and look like they’re about to let out a rush of tears at any moment. It’s now that I realize that he really is a person underneath it all. He’s a person…a human, no different than anybody else…and he has problems just like everybody else. I think he’s had a hard time with a lot of things…because he can’t talk to people about what he’s feeling and thinking like other people can. I’m sure he tried to find a person he could talk to…I’m sure he spent years dating tons of women trying to find that perfect one. And every time he thought he had found her…he just got screwed over…and it drove him to the brink. I’m sure he felt like he had no control over anything…and he felt useless as an individual. I realize now, that’s why he brought me into the picture…so he could have that control. No, I can’t say that he was right doing everything he did…but I can’t say I blame him either.

“Do you get it?” he asks me.

I nod.

He looks amazed. He looks like he has just found something that he lost a long time ago. He touches my face. “Yeah?”

“I get it,” I whisper. “And I would never leave you like that Justin…not all alone, like the rest of them did.” I can’t believe what I’m saying. This guys has hit me…degraded me…made me feel like nothing. But yet here I am…telling him I care. Maybe I’m just as fucked up as he is. I just don’t have the temper that he does.

He kisses me.

It almost takes my breath away. I snap out of it quick. I’m not doing this to myself. This is my job. I’m not about to fall for him now…not after everything else.

“I wish I could believe you,” he whispers, laying down on the bed.

I’m even more confused now.

“But I can’t.”

I curl up beside him. “Why?”

He looks at me again. “I told you why.”

“I’m not like them,” I tell him. “If you took the time to get to know me and what I’ve been through, you would know that.”

He closes his eyes. Stubborn bastard. I’m so mad at him right now. Here we were on the verge of a major personality breakthrough and he goes right back into his shell again. I just don’t get him. I don’t get him at all.

After a few moments, his eyes open again. He smiles.

I wonder if he ever heard of the term bipolar before?

“You know…we’ve never made out before,” he informs me.

Idiot. “We kiss all the time,” I grumble.

“Don’t be grumpy,” he frowns.

I roll my eyes at him.

“C’mon, you know what I mean girl,” he informs me.

“I do?”

“You know…” he says, nudging me in the ribs. “We’ve never just sat downstairs…on the sofa…no socks on…your lips on mine, without it turning into something. It’s been so long since I’ve sat somewhere and done that…”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” I smile.

“Deja,” he persists. “Make out with me. Come on.”

I can‘t help but smile. He‘s so cute when he whines like that. “You sound like some horny fifteen year old Justin,” I laugh at him. “One with big greasy zits all over his face.”

“That‘s not what you said last night,” he points out.

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh? So just what did I say?”

He tips his head back and starts to laugh. “Well…if I remember correctly, it went something like ‘Oh Justin…Oh God, yes! Justin! Oh Justin! Oh Justin!’”

I laugh and shake my head. “And if I remember correctly…I think you were the one screaming your own name, Mr. Ego.“

He kisses my neck. “That‘s twisted,” he whispers.

“It‘s my job to be twisted,” I smile.

He is silent for a moment. “I won‘t let Trace do that again,” he tells me. “I’m sorry,” he strokes the injured side of my face. “Nobody should hit you…not ever.”

I simply smile at him. I know I can’t say anything right now…or I’ll end up bursting into tears. So, instead of ruining the moment, I simply close my eyes.

“Don’t ever leave,” I hear him say before I drift off to sleep.

This better last.

*****************

Two weeks later...

It's been two weeks since our little heart to heart. A few days ago we came to the decision that tomorrow would be a good day for Deja’s friend to come visit. I’ve never seen the girl so excited about anything. She’s been cleaning and preparing all day long. She’s nervous…but not in a bad way. She’s that excited kind of nervous. The kind of feeling I get right before a show.

“Get your feet off the damn table!” she shouts at me, pushing them to the floor. “I just cleaned it!”

I laugh at her. “Sorry…I don’t know what came over me Dej’.”

She rolls her eyes and hands me my lemonade. It has a little umbrella in it. I take it out and stick it behind my ear. “We be jammin'" I sing, in my best reggae type voice. I take a sip. I haven't felt this playful in months...

Things have changed a lot with me personality wise since I opened up to Deja like I did. I feel so…free now. I don’t feel like I need to hide my feelings from anybody anymore. I can look in the mirror now…and know who I am. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. I feel like I’ve been reborn or something…and I know that sounds really cheesy too…but it’s truly how I feel. I’m starting to get past my demons, and move on with my life. Working on the album is helping a lot too. Writing is a good escape. I can express my feelings in a way that doesn't hurt anybody...that doesn't hurt Deja. I don't know what took me so long to pull my head out of my ass...I can't believe I allowed myself to be such a pigheaded bastard for so long.

Things between Deja and I have taken a turn for the better as well. It's not about sex with her anymore...and actually...we don't really have sex that much anymore. Maybe once a week...sometimes twice. It's mostly just kissing with us now...kissing and touching. Sometimes...we'll just sit together and hold each other. I think she knows I need that right now. I need to be held...I need to feel secure with somebody. I never thought that Deja was the kind of woman she is. She's so....strong...and smart. I guess you'd have to be to put up with all the crap I put her through.

She's my friend now. My good friend. I love talking with her. I love getting to know what kind of person she is. The contract...it doesn't even matter to me anymore. The contract...the whole thing was asinine to begin with. Yeah, I still have it...but I have the feeling that I'm gonna end up ripping it up...or I’m just going get it terminated or whatever. I mean, I'll still give her the money and everything...but those stupid rules...those stupid obligations she agreed to...they're done. She's not a slave...she's a person. I can see that now.

Trace and I are cool. I mean, I'm still pissed about what he did to her...but I can't hate him. He's my best friend. Deja doesn't care...but she wouldn't anyway. She still doesn't realize that I want to hear her opinion...but that's my fault too. I haven't told her that I don't care about the contract anymore... I haven't told her that it’s different with us now. I guess I figured she would just catch on…but she hasn’t. But why would she? She’s no more used to the sudden change in me, than I am. I guess I’ll have to tell her myself.

I doubt I‘ll have the guts to do it. My emotional feelings toward her are changing…I know t hey are. I look at her now and I feel…something. I can’t say it’s love…because that’s gay and that’s now how things work with me. I like her…yeah…that’s it. I like her…I like her a lot. I can’t tell her…because she would never go for it. Sure, she’s happier here now…but that’s only because I’m treating her like a person now instead of a slave. After what I put her through…I’m sure she’s just praying I don’t go back to my old ways. She’s going to stay…until her time is up. She’s going to take the money…and she’s going to leave. There’s not going to be anything more between us. She’s not going to fall desperately in love with me and live happily ever after.

Yes, she‘s going to leave me and I‘ll be alone again. Thinking about that…thinking about how she’s going to eventually leave me like the rest…it almost makes me angry…but then I calm down. It’s not her fault that I’m going to be alone again…it’s mine for setting this whole thing up.

I guess I shouldn‘t be thinking so far ahead. I need to focus on what’s going on right now. I need to focus on making Deja happy while she’s here. I need to focus on making Trace respect her more. I need to focus on making my album the best it can be.

“Sad?”

I look up. Deja is looming over me, a broom in her hand. There’s a streak of dirt on her cheek…her hair is a mess.

But she’s beautiful.

“Nah,” I tell her, smiling now. I get up off the couch. “You want some help?” I ask her, wiping the dirt off her face with my hand.

“Why mas’sa,” she says with a small smirk. “I am greatly obliged.”

I smile and yank the broom out of her hand. “Stupid,” I giggle. She leads me away and we begin to tackle the mess that is my kitchen.

I can’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon

Jade is here, but the day isn’t going as well as I had planned. Actually, it isn’t going well it all. She seems bitter more than anything else. Bitter about the fact that I left her all alone. It’s really stupid, because all those times I talked to her on the phone, she hadn‘t given me the slightest hint that she was angry…she only seemed to care about how I was doing, and if I was okay. Now she’s totally turned on me. She’s angry…she’s miserable. She wants me to pack my bags and get out of here today. I know I could…

Justin left the house for the day. He said he had studio work to do…but I know he only left because he wanted me to have a day to myself with my friend. Lord knows I deserve it. No, I wouldn’t just run off on him like that. We’re different now…we trust each other now. There are no more fights…he doesn’t raise his voice to me let alone his hand. He’s gentle with me…and when he wants to go to bed with me…he doesn’t act like it’s something I have to do. Actually, when we go to bed now…its more of a mutual thing. I want to sleep with him now…I don’t feel like it’s my job. At times it feels like he’s my boyfriend…but then I wake up and remember the reality of the situation.

Do I wish he was my boyfriend? I just don’t know. I mean, I know him. I know that his mood changes faster than my clothes came off at Babes the night we met. I know I can sort of trust him now…but I don’t know if I could trust him with my heart like that…I don’t know if I could handle it if I ended up falling in love with him, and he decided to go back to being a fucking asshole like before.

No, I wouldn’t be able to handle that. I know it.

“What’s here for you Deja? Money…is that why you’re staying? Deja…I haven’t spent a dime of that money you gave to me ya know,” Jade tells me. “There’s enough there to last us for years Deja. C’mon…say you’ll leave this place. I know you hate it…”

“Dammit Jade! Lay off!” I holler. I’m pissed now. I’m pissed because she’s trying to act like my Mother again. Yeah, before…when I was living with her, I put up with it because she was the only person in my life. But now…I’m in a totally different situation. She doesn’t live here…she doesn’t know Justin like I know him. I just feel like she has no right trying to tell me what I should do. If I wanted to leave…I would. But I don’t…not right now at least.

She’s silent. She’s pissed. I can tell. “If you don’t like what I think…then why did you bother inviting me here in the first place?” she whispers. “What Deja? Did you think I was going to come here and be overjoyed that you’re still choosing to live with this guy who pays you to be his sex slave?” she asks me. “It’s dirty Deja,” she hisses. “It’s not worth any amount of money.”

“You don’t know,” I tell her.

She lets out a sad laugh and shakes her head. “I guess not,” she shrugs. “But I’m not about to stick around and find out.” She rises from the sofa. “You do your thing Dej…and I’ll see you around I guess.”

“Jade…” I begin. I can feel the tears forming already. I can’t believe she would give up on me like this. If the situation were reversed…I wouldn’t give up on her. I know I wouldn’t. That’s not what friends do.

“I’m done with this Deja,” she mutters. “I’m done hearing about your ridiculous crusades with Justin fucking Timberlake. I’m done lying awake at night, wondering if you’re going to be okay. I have a life to live too Deja. If you want to give all this shit up and come with me now…then fine, lets go. But I’m not gonna wait for you after today. You have to choose…it’s either me…the only family you’ve got or him...a rich pathetic loser who has to pay to get some.” She places her hands on her hips.

I am speechless. In the beginning, I would have already had my bags packed…and I would have been out the door the moment Justin left the house. But now…I don’t want to. I want to see him again. I want him to come home and tell me one of his dumb jokes. I want him to cook me a candlelit ham and cheese hot pocket dinner for two, like he did last night. It’s really messed up to be thinking this way about somebody that has treated me so badly. But as I mentioned before, things are different…so much different from before. I can relate to him a little bit. He was lost…hopeless…alone. Like me. It’s like we were these two souls that were fighting to simply breathe…and now that we’ve found each other, truly found each other, we can. Maybe….

Maybe I need him now…just as much as he needs me.

“Deja?”

I look at her. Images of Justin and I race through my mind…followed by images of Jade and I. I can’t choose. How can she be so selfish? How can she expect me to choose? I would never do this to her. Maybe she’s changed since I’ve been gone…Oh Christ, I don’t know…

“Are you going to answer me?”

“I can’t,” I finally reply.

“Fine.” She snaps. She says no more. She leaves. The door slams shut. The sound that follows is empty and hollow…

I am alone. I feel like my whole world has come crashing down around me. I cry…I cry for hours…and hours…

“Hey,”

I hadn’t realized I fell asleep. My eyes snap open. A blurred image of Justin appears. I rub my eyes. Yes, I’m awake now. I glance at the window. It’s dark now. “Hi,” I manage.

“How was your day?” he asks, moving my legs so he can sit on the sofa. “Did you and Jade have fun?”

I don’t look at him. “She left.”

He yawns. “She got tired huh?”

“No,” I whisper. “She just left.”

“Oh,” he whispers.

I look at him. He knows something happened. No, he doesn’t know exactly what it is…but he still knows. I don’t have to tell him…and I’m glad, because I really don’t want to talk about it right now.

“You know,” he begins. “If she can’t understand this whole thing…I can’t blame her…and I’m sure you can’t either. I mean…this whole thing is pretty unbelievable, ya know?”

He’s right…I can’t blame her. How could I expect her to understand all of this? I nod my head.

Silence fills the room quickly. I would try to talk to him…but I don’t feel like crying again. I cried the whole damn day. He knows this…because he doesn’t try to get me to talk. He simply pulls me close to him, and begins to rub my back in a soothing, circular motion.

“You’re not alone Deja,” he whispers in my ear. “I’ll be here for you.”

I look at him. I search his face for any sign of dishonesty. I can’t see it. I can’t see it because it’s not there. I kiss him. I want to…with all my heart I want to. Nobody…has ever looked at me like he just did. It’s not one of those looks that’s telling me he’s falling madly in love with me either…it’s just…a safe look. A look that’s telling me I’m going to be okay…that I’m going to be safe here from now on. That he cares now…

Our lips part. “Thank you,” I get out.

“No Deja,” he says, with a small smile. “Thank you.”

*****************

Deja and I got to talking one night…and somehow the subject of animals came up. She told me she never had a pet before. She said she had always wanted one. So I got a dog. It’s weird that I would because I’m never around enough to take care of one. It’s this little black poofy thing that Deja decided to name Foofie. She named the damn dog Foofie…I mean, is that even a name? I can’t complain though…I did say she could name him whatever she wanted. It’s a cute dog. One of those kinds that you can put in your purse. Deja likes to carry him around when we go out. She seems happy with the dog and I‘m glad…because it was more for her than for me anyway.

It pisses all over the place. But it’s okay. It’s not like Deja has to clean it up or anything. I’m past that whole “Deja is my house slave” stage too. I finally decided to join the human race and hire a maid. Deja was so proud. Her name is Norma, and she is from Mexico. Nicest lady I’ve ever met. And cook…lord can that woman cook. It’s a good thing too…because before she came along Deja and I were getting by on take out, hot pockets, and the nights I would invite Mom over for “dinner”. Mom coming for dinner of course, involves her bringing the main course…and cooking it too. Not that she minds. She loves to cook anyway, and I think it makes her feel better knowing that I’m getting a home cooked meal.

By now, she’s figured out that Deja can’t possibly be my maid…because I have Norma. She asked me if Deja wasn’t my maid then who was she and why was she living in my house? What did I tell her? Well…I told her that I’ve been seeing Deja for almost three months now. When I first told her, she totally reamed me. I can’t blame her of course. I mean, I think any normal Mother would have reacted the way she did, if they had just found that their son had been living with a strange girl for three months, for a completely different purpose than she was originally told. This is the second time I have ever lied to my Mother, and it‘s also the second time she‘s gotten the truth out of me. I still feel terrible about it, because it’s never been that way between her and I. Mom and I have always been able to talk…about anything. And if I had been in a better state of mind in the beginning of all of this, and had simply started seeing Deja instead of making her sign that stupid contract…I probably wouldn’t have had to lie to my Mom in the first place. My Mom’s okay with it now…I mean, she thinks Deja is a nice girl, and when she comes by, they seem to get along pretty well. It’s a good thing too, because I don’t know if I could take it if they were constantly at each others throats.

Mom doesn’t know about the whole contract of course. I could never tell her that. I mean, she would think I was some kind of monster or something. The only people that know about that are Eric, Lonnie, and Trace. I know that Eric and Lonnie won’t say anything…because they know a lot of the other stupid shit I’ve done…and they haven’t told anybody about those things either. It’s Trace I’m worried about. I’m afraid he’s going to get real pissed off one day and tell my Mom how Deja and I came to be in the first place. Sure, we’re cool…but that doesn’t mean he likes Deja. It’s quite the opposite. He’s still pissed about the day he ended up hitting her…and he’s angry that she takes up more of my time than she used to. It’s funny because before he pointed this out to me, I hadn’t even noticed. It’s true though…lately, I’ve been spending every free moment I have, with her. But that shouldn’t be a bad thing. Deja makes me happy. I haven’t been this happy…in years. Even when I was with Brit…I wasn’t this happy. I wish Trace could get past everything else and see how much she’s changed me. But he won’t. He’s stubborn…impossibly stubborn.

But then again, so am I.

It took Deja a little over a week to recover from that fight she had with her friend. She finally told me the whole story a few days after the fact. I understand where her friend is coming from. She’s tired of worrying about Deja, she wanted her to come home…and she didn’t like Deja’s answer. I can’t believe she chose me over her best friend though. After everything else…I didn’t’ think she would. I mean, she could have left…and I would have understood. But she didn’t leave…she didn’t do what all those other girls did to me. She stayed…and I have no clue why. I know it’s not the money…because that’s not what Deja’s about. I’m sure a three million dollar offer was the reason why she signed the contract…but it’s not keeping her here. She doesn’t say it, but she knows that if she wanted to leave, I wouldn’t stop her. At this point, it wouldn’t be right.

Pharrell Williams wants to produce my album. We had a lengthy conference call yesterday about the whole thing. I can’t believe it. He’s probably the most creative urban artist out there right now…and he wants to help me make this solo project the best it can be. He wants to put his beats on my album. The idea is so crazy that I can’t get to sleep at night. Actually, I haven’t had a full nights sleep in about three nights. I’ve stayed up…writing…playing the piano. Last night Deja stayed up with me. It was cool…playing my stuff for her. Actually, besides my Mom and Trace…Deja is the only other person that’s heard my brand new stuff. I think she really likes it, because she didn’t talk at all while I was playing for her. She just sat there, and watched. Yeah, that amazed look was there too.

Maybe she’ll end up inspiring one of the tracks on the album. Yeah, I bet I could write a song about her. About the way I feel about her…

There’s this benefit I have to go to on Saturday. It’s in LA. It’s this charity basketball game. I’m looking forward to it, because the guys are going to be there. I haven’t seen them in a little while. We decided to have a break…and it was a good idea. When I say break, I mean a break from each other. Yeah, I know we’ll always be friends…but before we made this decision…things were getting a little crappy between the five of us. We were starting to drift apart…we were getting sick of each other, we were always fighting about stupid pointless shit. If we didn’t take a break…we probably would have ended up hating each other.

I haven’t told them about this…my solo project. I know I should have told them that I was thinking about it…but of course, I was too much of a pussy to do it. Now I have to do it…I mean, it’s only right that they know I’m putting out a record of my own before the fans and the media know. I don’t know how they’re going to take it though. We always used to say that we weren’t going to do solo records until we put an end to NSYNC. I couldn’t help myself though. Clive asked me if I had been thinking about it doing a solo project, and I told him that I had. So he told me I should do it…he said it would be “good for the group and good for my image”. He’s full of crap of course. He just knows that if I put out an album that it’s going to sell…and it’s going to sell well. The guys are going to hate me for this…they’re going to think I’m stabbing them all in the back. But I have to do this…for myself. This is my dream. My own record. I can’t let anything stand in the way of it. It’s going to hurt like a bitch if they hate the idea though. That’s like having your family hate something you dream of doing.

I want to bring Deja to the benefit. But if I do that…I have to tell people that we’re together. I mean, I know I could say that she’s my friend…but really, I don’t think anybody would believe that. Just like they didn’t believe me when I told them that Brit and I were just friends. I mean, I have no problem saying that we’re together…because aside from a few technicalities, we’re basically a couple. It’s just that neither one of us wants to see it…or admit it. I need to talk to her about this. I need to know what she wants to do. I need to figure out what the hell I want to do…

Note to self: Do this before Saturday.

****************

I’m out shopping and it’s weird. It’s weird because Justin is with me. He’s never come shopping with me before. Not that I’ve been out shopping much since I’ve been living with him. We’re having fun though…and as long as we’re having fun, and not fighting….then I don’t care.

“You like this?”

I look. It some basketball jersey. “It’s a jersey…you have a thousand jerseys just like that one at home,” I inform him.

“Yeah but…I might need another,” he tells me.

He’s acting really weird right now. He’s sifting through that rack of jersey’s like he’s never seen the damn things before. There’s something he’s not telling me. It’s making me nervous. “What’s going on?” I ask him finally.

He looks at me. His eyes are wide. “Nothing,” he says rapidly.

I roll my eyes. “Bull,” I mutter. I take the garments that he has selected and walk away with them. I don’t know why. It’s not like he expects me to carry his shit for him anymore. I feel him behind me. He grabs my hand.

“Deja.”

I turn around. “What?”

“I…” he begins, but then stops and begins to rub the back of his neck. He’s nervous. I know, because he always does that stupid neck rubbing thing when he’s nervous.

“Justin…just tell me what’s the matter,” I say.

“Come out to LA with me,” he says. “I have this charity thing going on this weekend…I want you to be there.”

I stare at him for a few moments. I’m both shocked and confused at the same time. Weird…he’s acting like he’s inviting me on a date or something. Oh….

I feel my face turn red. I never said I was quick. “Um…I don‘t…”

He smiles. “No right…that’s what I thought.”

Now he’s the one walking away. I stare after at him. I probably would have said yes, if I could have found my voice when he asked. Go to LA…of course I want to go to LA with you Justin. Damn it, why couldn’t I have just said something? Now he’s gonna think I hate him or something.

“Get that fucking camera out of my face!”

Justin’s voice startles me out of my daze. I look. There’s some photographer standing outside the entrance to this store. He’s snapping pictures off like crazy. Justin hates that. I learned this when we were in New York. He had practically knocked a guy over for doing that to him, and he would have succeeded if Eric hadn’t stopped the guy from snapping pictures off. The salespeople are frantic now. They’re pulling down the blinds, they’ve closed and locked the door. It doesn’t matter though, Justin’s still ripping pissed.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Timberlake!”

He glares at the woman. “If you were doing your job, that wouldn’t have happened.”

And here I was thinking he had changed. Good lord. I walk over to Justin, and pull him aside before he makes the poor woman grovel at his feet for mercy. He pushes me away.

“Get your fuckin’ hands offa me,” he sneers. “Stupid bitch.”

I take a step back. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought things had changed. I guess I was wrong. I guess Justin has just been in a good mood lately. I look into his eyes. They are cold and emotionless. I want to cry. We were getting so close…I thought I knew him…

“Get my fucking clothes Deja.”

I don’t know him at all. I shake my head. “What…”

“Do it,” he snaps. “It’s all your good for anyway.”

My mouth gapes. “Is this about…” I begin.

He walks away. He walks away like he used to, like I’m not even there.

With all the dignity I can muster, I silently carry his pile of clothes over to the register and get them paid for. When I get back to the car, I find him yakking away on his cell phone. He barely notices me get into the car, before he speeds off. I look out the window, and concentrate on trying not to let myself cry. What the hell happened in there? One person pisses him off and he becomes Mr. Asshole again? I mean, I can understand why he was getting pissy with the salespeople…but me? I didn’t even do anything wrong, except not answer his question fast enough. Not that that was really wrong. God…I don’t fucking know. Maybe it was…

Wait a second. Just wait a fucking second. This has gone on long enough. I’m not about to sit here, and cry, and let him act like this with me. I didn’t do anything…and we’re closer than this. He knows that. I know that.

I suck in a long breath, and turn to face him. He’s still talking on his phone…but I don’t really care. I rip it out of his hand and hang up on whoever it is before he can react.

“Deja!” he yells “That was my publicist you stupid…”

“Shut up.” I state.

“Bitch you…”

“Shut up!”

He is silent. I guess he’s not so tough anymore. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask him finally.

He snatches his phone out of my hand. “Nothing,” he mutters.

“Bull.”

He pulls the car over to the side of the road, and turns the engine off. “What do you care anyway?” he seethes.

“I never said I didn’t want to come to LA with you, if that‘s what‘s got you so pissed off,” I grumble. “You never gave me a chance to answer you. You were too busy getting angry about every thing else. I hate that Justin…I hate when you do that.”

“Everything else!” he whines. “You try to make it through the day without some paparazzi dumb ass flashing his camera in your face,” he crosses his arms across his chest.

“Oh I get it now,” I tell him. “Somebody does something you don’t like…so that automatically gives you the right to treat everybody around you like complete shit.”

“Not everybody,” he rolls his eyes. “Just you.”

My mouth hangs open. I can’t believe the way he’s acting right now. It’s disgusting. I hate…No. I don’t hate him. And that’s really sad, considering. “Bring me home,” I tell him, looking out the window again.

“Deja,” he whispers.

Yes, bipolar. He’s definitely bipolar. I’m going to tell him to shove whatever he has to say up his ass. Watch. “What.”

I never said I was smart.

“I…I’m sorry. I don’t know…I guess I just got mad that you didn’t answer me right away. I thought…well…I thought that you were going to tell me you didn‘t want to go. I didn’t want to hear you say that Deja.”

I make myself look at him again. Yeah, yeah, he’s sorry. He’s always sorry. “I was going to say yes Justin,” I tell him. “I was just a little surprised is all.” I look out the window again.

“Surprised?”

I smile. “I…I didn’t think you would want me to be seen with you like that.”

“But…I do,” he confesses. “I…you know…I can’t really tell you what it is that I feel for you right now Deja. But I can tell you that whatever it is…I definitely don’t want to pass it up.”

I feel his hand on my shoulder a moment later. I turn to face him again, and am immediately swept up in a long, passionate kiss. This time…it takes my breath away. Never…he’s never kissed me like that before. Our lips part, and I find myself not being able to feel my legs…my arms…anything. I’m in a daze. One of those dazes you only fall into when you’re in love.

Christ…I’m not in love. I can’t be in love with him.

Fuck. I can’t help myself right now.

“Don’t be mad at me Deja. I’m trying here okay?” he reassures me. “I’m trying not to be a fucking asshole.”

“I know,” I manage.

He smiles. “So…”

I smile back. “So.”

“Wanna go home and play Playstation?”

“You’re so random,” I laugh.

He frowns. “Okay then. Wanna go home and have sex?”

“Justin!”

“What?” he smiles. “I’m trying not to be random.”

“You know what’s gonna be random…when you show up with me at this charity thing.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head.

“Justin,” I say, shooting him a skeptical glance. “What are you going to tell them? That I’m your maid, and you decided to give me a taste of your lifestyle?”

“Nah.”

“Don’t even tell me you’re going to pull that shit about me being Trace’s cousin.”

He laughs and kisses me again. “Don’t worry Dej’. I have it all figured out.”

I pull away from him and fold my arms under my breasts. “Well tell me.”

“I’m gonna tell them what I tell everybody,” he says with a smirk.

“And that is?” Christ, I hate playing twenty questions with him.

He sucks in a breath. “I’m going to tell them all…that you’re my girlfriend.”

I am speechless.

s I lay here, staring at his sleeping form, I think back to the beginning of all this. It’s crazy how I went from a stripper, to a mistress, to the girlfriend of a celebrity. After the fight we got into at the store and in the car, Justin and I went home and had yet another long conversation. I mean, I was thrilled that he wanted me to be his girlfriend, but I still had rules. I told him that I wasn’t going to be treated as his rag doll, that I wanted this to work just as much as he did. I told him I couldn’t put up with him flipping out like he had in the store. He said he understood, and that he was going to try harder in the future. I guess I believe him, but I’m seriously considering getting him a punching bag to hang in his room for moments when he feels the urge to flip out. He can beat the shit out of that instead of ragging on me.

I feel him stir next to me, and look at him. His eyes open slowly. I smile at his sleepy expression and reach out to run my fingers through his mess of hair. “Hey.”

"Why are you watching me sleep?," he groans. His body stretches out to the full length of the bed, and he looks at the clock. "At five in the morning?"

"Because I feel like it,” I say. “You have to get up and get into the shower anyway, the limo will be here in like an hour."

“No,“ he groans. “I don’t wanna get up now.“ His body curls itself into mine, and he shoves his head between my neck and shoulder. “I wanna sleep with my Deja.“ His lips attached themselves to my neck., and I smile. Hell, right now I just wanna say fuck it and stay in bed with him all day. But I know that isn’t possible. This charity thing…it’s important that he’s there.

I mean, I guess it is.

I push him off of me and leap out of bed, ripping the blankets off him.

“Cold!“ he yells

I laugh, and watch as he curls his naked body into a ball. His hand frantically begins to scan the bed, looking for something to cover himself with. When he comes up empty handed he looks at me and frowns.

"Why aren't you naked too?," he whines. “That’s not fair.”

"I was smart and got dressed the moment I woke up," I tell him. Instead of waiting around for him to try and seduce me, I go into the bathroom and start his shower for him. I hold my hand under the water, and take the normal ten minutes adjusting the temperature so that it is exactly right. I know, it’s pathetic…but his smelly ass won’t get into the shower if the water isn’t the right temperature. "Justin, its nice and warm in this hot, steaming, shower," I yell.

Seconds later he appears in the doorway. He didn’t bother slipping his boxers on. He lets out an amused, boyish chuckle and a moment later I find myself in the shower with him, clothes on…squealing with laughter as he begins to pull my clothes off. “We’re gonna be late!” I tell him

“Fashionably late,” he whispers, removing the last of my undergarments.

He’s all over me…kissing me…touching me…I’m in a watery heaven.

Oh hell. Screw being on time.

******

"Do you have to do that?"

I grin and press the button to the sunroof for the fifth time. The only reason I continue is because it’s annoying the hell out of him. It’s so much fun.

"Actually I don't, but its annoying you so I'll continue."

Justin grabs my hands and sets them in my lap with a cheesy grin. "Now honey, remember to keep your hands to yourself and be a good girl okay?" He pats my cheek and lets go of my hands.

"Okay, I'll remember to keep my hands to myself." I smirk. “Especially tonight.”

“Well…I wouldn’t go that far,“ he laughs, and begins to tickle me.

“Justin!“ I squeal. “Justin, I’m gonna pee if you don’t stop!“

“Take it back!“

“Okay!” I say, breathlessly. “Okay!!”

He stops and turns his whole body towards me, pulling me closer to him. His fingers intertwine with mine. "We never really talked about what it would be like once we tell people."

I rest my head against his chest and sigh. "You should have thought about that before. We can’t change anything now. Once we get there its going to be chaotic. There’s going to be press everywhere.”

He smiles and kisses the top of my head. "If only you knew what was going to happen."

I look into his eyes. "Tell me then. I want to be prepared."

"Well," he pauses. "After today I'm going to estimate about a hundred Anti- Deja sites will be up and running. We'll probably be on every magazine cover across America. The headlines will read “Justin’s new rebound girl.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. "I'll never understand why people care so much about you."

His jaw drops and his eyes bulge. "Because I'm freakin' sexy! God."

I smile. “You’re such an ego maniac.”

“But you love it,” he giggles softly and kisses me again. "Oh," he smiles. "I almost forgot. The guys are gonna be there. You’ll get to meet them today.“

I flash him a nervous smile. “Great. Let’s just hope they don’t think badly about us…about how we came about.”

He won‘t look at me.

“Justin?”

"I…I didn’t exactly tell them about that part…of us,” he tells me. “I mean…can you blame me Deja?”

"Thanks for the confidence booster," I frown

“Aw Dej,“ He coos, giving my leg a comforting pat. “You know its not like that.”

I sigh. I have to give in. I can’t help myself. “I know.”

Moments later the limo comes to a stop. Justin grabs for my hand and scoots closer to the door, resting his hand on the handle. The door flies open. I gasp. Flashes go off in every direction. There are screams, shouts. I glance at my outfit, and want to crawl into a hole and die. I’m in a t-shirt and jeans. With all the time I spent helping Justin pick out what to wear, I simply hadn’t noticed how simple my outfit was. I want to kick myself. How am I going to look on the arm of Justin Timberlake, dressed like this? Justin doesn’t give me any time to protest however. Before I know what is happening he pulls me out of the limo and onto the plush red carpeting leading up to the building.

The walk past the line of paparazzi doesn’t last more than a minute or two, but it seems like an hour to me. Eric is guiding us to the entrance, making sure nobody gets closer than they are allowed. I don’t know how Justin keeps his smile spread for so long. Not with the way they are all hollering at him, questioning him about who I am, and shoving their cameras and microphones in his face. In the store, he had been ready to kill that guy with the camera. Why this moment is different…I have no idea. I guess when it comes right down to it, Justin can be as professional as any other celebrity. He simply squeezes my hand tighter as we move past them, and guides me into the arena. I look over my shoulder. There they are, pressing their lenses against the windows, trying to get one last picture before Eric leads us around a corner. I wonder if they realize how ridiculous they are?

Pathetic.

He looks at me and smiles. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“No,“ I say.

He kisses me softly, and we continue on to the back of the arena. It’s easier to walk through here. They haven’t let the crowds in yet. Our hands are still intertwined when we entered the backstage area, and I don’t get nervous because nobody seems to care who Justin is, let alone that he’s holding my hand.

Well, nobody except the guy that comes running out of nowhere, nearly barreling into Justin and I. He’s kinda tall, about the same height of Justin. Italian looking. I stare at the shirt he’s wearing, and shoot him a confused glance. It says, “It’s not gonna suck itself.”

I’m uncomfortable.

"Jay, how you doin' man?" he says excitedly.

“Hey,” Justin smiles. He lets go of my hand and pulls the other man into a manly hug. They begin to chat about matters I know nothing about. I look down at the ground. I feel out of place.

“C’mere you.“

I take my gaze off the floor. Justin is motioning for me to come closer. When I don’t, he places his hand on the small of my back and pulls me closer to him. I smile at his friend, but don‘t make direct eye contact with him.

"This is my girl, Deja,” Justin informs him. “The one that I told you about."

The man holds his hand out to me and smiles. “Hi, I’m Joey. And of course I already know who you are…this one won’t shut up about you,” he says, motioning to Justin. “You should really try to get him to do something about that.“

I laugh and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you,“ I blush. I shoot Justin a confused look. I had no idea he talked about me to his friends this much. I didn’t think he cared…not that much anyway. With all the weird circumstances surrounding our relationship, I’m still surprised he wanted to bring me out here. I don’t know why…but I’m starting to doubt this whole weekend for some reason. I just feel like…we’re together, but our relationship has been shined up and fluffed up to look good for people. I mean, if Justin didn’t tell Joey and the rest of his friends how really met…then just what did he tell them? I guess it doesn’t matter, because whatever it is…it’s still a lie.

“So where is everybody?” Justin asks him, wrapping his hands around my waist and resting his chin on top of my head. “Fashionably late?”

Joey laughs. “Nah, J. That’s you.”

“I resent that,” I hear him say. A moment later his face is in mine. “Tell him babe, I’m never late.“

Okay is it just me? Or is Justin putting on a front in front of his friend? He’s never this…“hokey dokey I’m so in love with my baby” way. It’s casual with us. He’s scaring me. “You’re late a lot.” I say.

He stares at me for several moments. He knows I’m not kidding around, but still, he smiles. Probably so Joey doesn’t get any ideas. “Such a kidder,” he says to Joey.

“I think she’s smart actually,” Joey snickers. “Anyway…I know the other guys are putzing around here someplace. There’s a catering table around the corner. I bet that’s where they’ll be.”

“Alright man. See you out there.”

“Nice to meet you Deja,” Joey smiles at me, and then departs.

“What’s wrong?” he asks me, once Joey is out of range.

I shrug. “Nothing.”

“Deja,” he says. “Don’t lie.”

“You don’t need to act like we’re…in love or whatever,” I grumble. “You’re friends don’t care.”

He pulls away from me. “Where the hell is this coming from?” he says, shooting me a cold look.

“Oh c’mon!” I exclaim. “Tell him babe…I’m never late,” I say in my best Justin voice.

He holds his hands out at his sides. “What’s wrong with that? It was just casual conversation.”

“You and I know damn well…that’s not how things are.”

He steps toward me, and rubs his hands up and down my arms. “Yeah, well they don’t. And if it’s not to much trouble, I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t need them finding out that you were a….” he stops before he says the word. He looks away from me.

I glare at him. “What? A slut? Go ahead Justin…say it.”

“C’mon Dej. Just drop it,” he whispers. “We’re here to have a good time.”

I pull away from him. “Are we Justin? Or did you just bring me along to make you look good?”

“You know its not like that,” he shakes his head. “You know how things have been lately.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” I say. “I…it’s not like I can completely trust you or anything. I mean, Christ Justin, you flip out so easily. It’s like walking on pincushions to please you.”

He points a finger at me. “I don’t know what your fucking problem is Deja. You know…we’ve been doing good. I…I’ve changed so much, because of you. Now I bring you here, to introduce you to the closest friends I have and you’re gonna be a little bitch. I mean, if you don‘t wanna be here just say so. You can go home.”

He’s hurt. He’s hurt and he’s about to burst. I can tell. That look is in his eyes again. That cold, unforgiving look. I know its my fault, but I just can’t stand him being so fake like he just was. If he wants people to see us as a couple, he needs to act normal when we’re out together. He needs to drop the Mr. Perfect act. It pisses me off. Maybe I’m bipolar too. Hell. I don’t know. “I never said I didn’t want to be here.”

“Then why are you starting in with this shit?” he barks.

“Because you’re corny.”

“You know, that’s fine,” he turns on his heel and heads for the direction Joey had referred him to before. “You be in your little mood if you want Dej. I have to go get ready for this stupid crap.”

He disappears around the corner. Was I wrong? No…he was being corny. Oh geez. My stomach hurts.

I need a bathroom.

I don't know where Deja is. Not that I care…oh fine, so maybe I do…just a little bit. I don’t understand what set her off. Alright, so I acted a little cheesy in front of Joey. But why should that bother her so damn much? I mean, isn’t she the one who was so happy that I changed? Christ…she must be bi polar or something….I don't understand women. I don’t know how she expects me to act around other people. I mean, am I supposed to walk around, all serious and shit? No…I’m happy when I’m with her, at least I was, and I was acting accordingly. I’m corny? Nah Dej. You’re the one who’s fuckin’ corny.

I’m so pissed right now. I could really go for a blunt and a beer. But if I’m gonna play ball, I can’t be drinking. And a blunt? That’s definitely out of the question.

“So, Joey tells me your girls real nice.” JC guzzles his water, and plants himself on the bench beside me. “Where is she? The rest of us want to meet her too ya know.”

I barely acknowledge his presence. “She’s around.”

“Around?” he scoffs. “Wow Justin. That sounds like a healthy relationship.”

“Enough about me,” I say, meeting his gaze. “Tell me what’s been goin’ on.”

“You would know what’s been going on if you called once in a while. I mean, damn. I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”

He’s right to say that. I don’t call. I don’t call anybody. Up until recently, I’ve been like this hermit or something. Yeah, a little hermit with a scruffy sidekick named Trace that just won’t leave me alone. Britney. She left me so miserable. But Deja came along, and after a few nasty fights (alright, really nasty), I finally got it in me to lighten up. “Sorry,” I say to him softly. “You know how things went down.”

“Don’t even start with the Britney crap,” JC groans, sticking his fingers in his ears.

I sigh, and look away from him. My, don’t I have great friends?

“So…” Lance says, leaning forward to see past JC. “You been thinking about the next record at all?”

I feel my throat tighten. My album…my solo album. Yeah, that was another thing I had on my to do list for the weekend. I think it said “stab friends in back”. “Uh…,” I stall. “Yeah you know, when the time is right I think we should definitely make another album.”

I glance at J.C. who is staring at me strangely. "We are doing another album right…?"

I suck in a breath. They’re all staring at me, as if this decision is only going to effect me. I look to Joey for help. Surely he wants to spend time with his new baby…surely he’ll point this out.

Why doesn't he say anything?

"Of course," I find myself saying. Why couldn't you just tell them?

“Hey!” Trace bursts through the door, a clip board over flowing with paperwork in his hand. “You’re late!”

It’s funny…he didn’t even try to find me and tell me that he had gotten here okay. He just went to work. He’s a good friend. No, maybe he’s not crazy about the idea of me having Deja around…but he’s still a good friend. I smile at him. It’s a thankful smile. He’s just saved me from the dirty looks the guys were throwing at me. They know something’s up.

But I’m not about to tell them now.

********************

I'm on my knees on the bathroom floor. It’s cold, and I know the tiles are going to leave little square imprints on my legs. This isn’t where I want to be, but I’m here none the less. I’ve been sticking my face into the toilet bowl for a good twenty minutes now, vomiting up god knows what. It’s finally seemed to subside, but who knows how long that will last. I hate when Justin is an ass. My stomach always gets in knots. But its never caused me to vomit before. Maybe it wasn’t Justin’s fault…maybe it was something I ate. But how could it be? I only ate cereal. Cereal doesn’t do that to a person.

What if I have like…West Nile Syndrome??

Omigod stop being stupid Deja.

After several more minutes pass, I finally regain enough strength to stand. I wipe the sides of my mouth. Gross….puke. I exit the stall and stare at myself in the mirror. I’m a mess. I’m pale, my eyes are bloodshot. I’m dizzy. This is bad. Fuck, my first public appearance with Justin…and I’m vomiting like some kind of animal. I turn on the faucet and splash my face with cold water. It doesn’t help. My face is still on fire. I must have a fever.

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have been such a bitch to Justin. It’s not that I don't love the lovey dovey shit he does. But I hate that it seemed so fake just then. I don’t need to be in a fake relationship with him. We’ve been through enough as it is. And no, I’m not saying I want his friends to know that I used to be a whore…but I don’t want them to have some buttered up story about me either.

Oh well. I'm tired of trying to please everyone. I do enough of that with Justin. If he wants to tell them that I’m the daughter of some record exec or whatever the hell he’s told them…then fine. I’m not going to pay attention anymore.

I push my way out the door. I have no idea where I am. I was so angry before, that I just started walking. Then I found the bathroom. But now…I have no idea how to get back to where I came from. Great, now I'm going to be lost and sick at the same time.

Help.

Today isn't my day.

I walk down the hall, searching for a familiar face to guide me back to my boyfriend. I feel like garbage. All I want is for Justin to wrap himself around me, kiss my head, and tell me he’s there. I know we’re fighting…but like I said…I’m bipolar. Right now…I don’t care what it is that he did or said. I just want to be in his arms again. . I sigh, oh well.

“Why are you wandering around?”

Trace! Finally, someone I know.

"Trace, I'm lost," I moan. There goes my stomach.

He gives me a weird look, as if he’s debating on whether he should help me or leave me here to suffer. He better not leave me here. Shit, I'll kick his ass. I'm not in the mood.

"Justin was looking for you at the beginning of the game. He looked pissed. What'd you do now?" he smirks.

Little shit. "I didn't do anything!” I snap. “Can you just take me to wherever I'm supposed to go and stop being fucking stupid?"

He sighs and turns around, motioning for me to follow him. We pass several people fussing about in the back, until Trace finally stops several feet away from a bulky looking gentleman. "Hey, can you take Deja out to the family and friends section?" Trace says to him.

He glances at me and then back at Trace. Then he leans down and whispers something in Trace’s ear. Trace nods and steps back so I can follow. What the hell did they say to each other? I hate when people do that.

"Follow me," the man says.

I swallow and cautiously walk out onto the side court. I see a lot of famous faces, including Justin‘s. He's running down the court, his hands out waiting for someone to pass the ball to him. His pants are snug against his butt…which is making me forget why I was mad at him to begin with. It’s not fair.

I'm supposed to be mad at this man.

"You can sit in the second row."

I turn towards the bleachers. They’re all staring at me, whispering and pointing at me. They raise their cameras and start snapping off pictures of me. I can’t believe they already know who I am. I didn’t think that many of them saw me walking with him on the red carpet. It’s amazing how fast news can spread.

Despite my newly formed paparazzi clan, I sit down in a chair and try to watch the game. My eyes linger on Justin. He stops at the three point line and shoots. He makes it. I refrain from cheering for him. The girls behind me don’t though. I cover my ears. Damn, can they scream any louder?

The buzzer goes off, signaling the end of the period. The players are running back to their benches. I recognize Joey…and the rest of NSYNC. Then I see Justin. He’s sweaty and …sexy and…

No. He’s corny. I need to stop.

He sighs, slaps hands with Joey, and waves at a few girls at the end of the court who have been screaming his name.. His hands rest on his hips as he walks back to an empty chair. I stare at the back of his head and frown. I know he has to have seen me. He better not be trying to play the victim.

Slowly he turns around, looking at the people behind him until he finally looks at me. Should I be a bitch?

He smiles.

I guess that's a no. I smile back and give him a little wave. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth and turns around.

I love that lower lip.

Okay, I guess I can forgive him. I mean, maybe I was stupid for getting mad at him in the first place right? Yea. Oh God, I smell nachos. It’s making my stomach turn.

This is going to be a long game.

************

We lost. It wasn’t my fault though. It was Lance’s. The guy passed the ball to the other team more times than I can count. Damn man. That’s just sad. “Deja,” I say, tapping on the door. She doesn’t answer. She’s been in there for a little while. “Hey…what’s the matter with you?” I listen for a response. Then, a horrible noise comes from behind the bathroom door. It sounds like…she’s getting sick. "Deja..are you sick?“

She still doesn’t answer. I turn the knob, and push the door open. “De--“ I begin, but my speech is cut short when I set eyes on her. I wince. She’s on her knees, her face buried in the depths of the toilet bowl. After a moment, she picks her head up slightly and glances over at me. She looks like hell. Her face…its so pale. “Deja,“ I whisper, slowly approaching her.

“Don’t,“ she moans. A moment later she is vomiting into the toilet again.

“Jesus, what did you eat?” I say, kneeling down beside her. She continues to vomit. It’s disgusting…its making me nauseous. But then I remember the time that she went through this with me. She didn’t leave me, and I guess I shouldn’t leave her either. I rub my hand up and down her back. “Shh…it’s okay.” I whisper.

After about ten more minutes of vomiting passes, she finally stops, and looks up at me. I pull a towel from somewhere behind me and wipe her mouth off. “I…I think I’m sick,” she manages.

I have to laugh. “I think so too.”

She groans and leans into me. “I’m sorry, Justin.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I say. “You can’t help it that you’re sick Dej’.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I mean…about before.”

Oh. The fight. I was so caught up in the moment, I had nearly forgotten about it. I kiss her forehead. “It’s no biggie…I mean, I was pissed and stuff, but now I‘m past it. I just…I don’t understand why you got so upset.”

“I’m not used to you acting like you did,” she confesses. “When you acted so…I dunno…fake around your friend, I guess it just scared me a little.”

“Fake? Deja…that wasn’t fake. That’s me. That was how I used to act…” I pause and let out a long sigh. “You know…before all the shit happened.”

She shrugs. “It’s hard for me to picture you like that, Jus. I’m sorry…I guess we both need to get used to being in this relationship.”

She’s right. So right its scary. This relationship is brand new, despite the fact that she’s been living with me for almost four months now. I’m just starting to get to know this woman…this woman who sacrificed so much…so foolishly…for me. “I’ll work harder if you will,” I whisper in her ear.

She smiles. She’s not mad at me. I’m relieved. She closes her eyes. “You want to go in the bed?” I say.

“Mmmm,” she hums.

I’m taking this as a yes. I stand up, and lift her off of the floor. She’s already asleep. I feel so bad. I had the night all planned out. I was going to try and make up for the fight. I was going to take her to the dinner me and the guys have to go to. But now…I can’t expect her to do any of that. With my luck, she’d end up puking all over somebody. She has to stay here. I reach the bed and lay her down on it. “Deja,” I whisper, covering her with the blanket.

Her eyes flutter open. “Hi,” she says.

She looks so beautiful right now. I wish I could just say fuck it all, and spend the rest of the night cuddling with her in the bed. Hell, I wouldn’t even care if I got sick because of it. I want to make all her pain go away. “You gonna be alright?”

“I think so,” she nods.

“I have to go to this dinner thing,” I sigh, sitting down on the bed. “I really don’t want to leave you here.”

“I can come with you,” she smiles weakly. “I’m not that sick.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Dej, come on. Oh hell, maybe I’ll just skip it.”

“You can’t skip it Justin,” she tells me.

“And I can’t leave you alone either.”

“Justin, I’m a big girl, remember?”

I grin at her stupidly. “In more ways than one.”

“Oh god,” she rolls her eyes. “Just…go to your dinner.”

“But Deja--,” I start to say, but am cut off when there comes a knock at the door. “If that’s Trace’s I’ll kill ‘im,” I grumble. Deja laughs, and I shoot her a cold look.

“Answer the door pouty,” she smiles.

I swagger over to the door, and with a sigh, I yank it open. My eyes widen. It wasn’t who I was expecting. It’s Kelly. Joey’s girlfriend. I’m so confused. “Hey,” I say.

“Hi,” she smiles, looking past me a little. “Is that Deja?”

I glance over my shoulder. “Oh…yeah. Why?”

“Well…me and the girls were gonna go grab a bite, seeing how you five refuse to take us to this stupid dinner of yours,” she mutters. “We wanted Deja to come.”

Suddenly, I’m glad Deja is sick. If the rest of the guys aren’t bringing anybody with them, I would have looked like a moron bringing Deja with me. “Well…she’s a little under the weather.”

Kelly rolls her eyes. “Oh please,” she pushes past me, and waltzes into the room. “You’re Deja?” she asks her with a giggle.

“Yeah,” Deja gets out weakly. “Hi.”

“So you really are sick?”

Deja nods slightly. “Yeah.”

“What?” I say. “Did you think I was lying?”

Kelly glances over her shoulder. “Knowing you…yes.” She turns back to Deja. “So what’s wrong hon?”

“Thanks a lot Kel,” I mutter. Neither one of them seems to hear me though. I frown.

“I dunno,” Deja says. “I think I have a stomach bug. I’ve been getting sick all day.”

“Well that just sucks!” Kelly exclaims. “Hey, I know…the girls and I will just get a pizza and stay here with you. Sound good?”

“Well…” Deja looks at me, with questioning eyes. “I mean, if Justin doesn’t mind I guess it would be fun.”

“If Justin doesn’t mind?” Kelly says, in a confused tone. She looks back at me. She thinks I’m crazy. “What are you…some kinda control freak?”

I laugh a little. She really doesn’t have any idea. “No,” I say. “Deja and I just…we like to make decisions together.” Okay so that was stupid, but hell, I don’t know what else to tell her. Stating the truth is out of the question.

“This is pizza we’re talking about,” Kelly laughs. “God--just go to your dinner, Justin.”

I open the door, and smile at her. “You sure you don’t mind staying in tonight Kelly?”

Kelly shrugs. “When don’t I stay in? When you have a baby, you’re pretty much under house arrest.”

“You have a baby?” Deja speaks up. Her eyes are wide, and filled with curiosity.

She blushes. “With Joey.”

I smile a little. “Deja, this is Joey’s…uh…”

“Significant other,” Kelly interrupts. “Well…I mean, we’re getting married. We just haven’t set the date yet.”

“I bet you’re a good mom,” Deja says. She glances at me quickly. I’m confused. I mean, I know having a baby is a wonderful thing…but right now Deja seems in such awe of the idea. It’s weird.

It’s weird, and I’m leaving. “Well girls, I better go,” I say quickly. “Just call the cell if you need something Dej’ okay?”

“Okay.” She smiles at me, and sits up a little. I can already tell she’s feeling better, and it gives me enough confidence to walk out the door. I wave her a quick goodbye, and close the door behind me. I walk forward a little, and nearly knock JC over in the process. “Shit man,” I grumble. “Don’t scare me like that.”

He doesn’t laugh. Now I’m starting to feel sick. “Jace…what’s the matter?”

He sends me a blank stare, and doesn‘t say anything for a few minutes. Then his brows furrow, like he‘s trying to figure out the best thing to say to me at this moment. I don‘t have a clue why though, I barely talked to the guy today. I let out a little chuckle, and smile at him. “You okay bud?”

He points a finger at me. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me Justin.”

I swallow hard. “I d-don’t understand.”

He smiles a little, but it quickly fades away. “Come on Justin, I’ve known you too long…why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind.”

This is bigger than what’s on my mind, I’m sure of it. He knows there’s something up with me…that’s going to affect us all. Sometimes I wonder if Josh has psychic powers, because he’s always been able to figure out every little detail about me…even stuff that nobody else was able to figure out. I guess I need to tell him about the record, it doesn’t make sense to hold it in anymore. I know if I don’t tell him now…he’s going to find out from somebody else…and that won’t be good for anybody. Taking a deep breath, I meet his gaze. “Alright,” I whisper.

“You’re not going to do another record with us,” he says to me. It’s not a question…and I think he’s known this was coming from the get go.

I wince slightly. “I…I was gonna tell you.”

“You know I got your back,” he nods. “I just wish you would have told me sooner. I‘ve been thinking about doing a little something myself.”

I laugh a little. “You’re not mad?”

He looks offended. “Mad? Justin, for as long as I’ve known you all you’ve dreamt about was doing a record of your own. Why should I be mad that you’re finally going to be able to do it now? I mean yeah…it’s gonna be different. But what the hell is life for if you can’t try different things?”

“I’m not saying I want to leave the group,” I explain. “This is just something I want to do for right now.”

He pats me on the shoulder. “Then do it if you want to do it. I’m behind you…and I know the other guys will be too.”

He’s smiling now, and I feel myself do the same. He’s not mad…he’s not even worried about the fate of the group. He only cares that I’m happy. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. “Thanks Jace.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Spending the evening with Kelly and the other girls, made my night interesting. I’m glad they decided to come and spend time with me, because if they didn’t, I would have been all alone in this hotel room, watching some stupid movie on the television. They were all really nice to me…really accepting. And they didn’t really seem too curious as to how Justin and I came about in the first place. The most they asked me was where I was from and how I met Justin. And I told them…Tennessee…and ‘at a club’. That wasn’t a lie, and I was glad it wasn’t. I want to befriend these girls, because I’m sure tonight won’t be the last time I’ll see them. If they have a good opinion formed about me in their minds, the other guys will get that message too. Then Justin won’t have to worry about what they think.

And maybe he won’t have to act so fake around them when I tag along to one of these events in the future.

After I hurdled past the ‘where are you froms’ and ‘how did you meets’, the night ran pretty smoothly. We talked, laughed, and I got to know them all. They aren’t as stuck up as you’d think for being girlfriends of celebrities. They’re pretty open minded…especially Kelly. I think out of all of them, she’s the one I trust the most…just because she’s been through the most with her boyfriend. I mean, she had his baby…that’s pretty extreme. And I think…I might even be able to trust Joey a little…because if Kelly had his baby, and he stayed with her…it must mean he’s a good guy right?

I guess. Although, I have a hard enough time trying to trust Justin…and his moods. I’m sure I’m not ready to trust one of his friends. Hell, I can’t even trust Trace….his best friend.

I feel a lot better than I did before Justin left for dinner. I’m not nauseated anymore, and actually, I had a piece of pizza a little while ago. Maybe it was one of those spur of the moment sickness things that pass after a few hours. Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. It explains why the feeling left me so suddenly. Well…whatever it was…I’m glad it’s over and done with.

Taptaptap

There’s somebody at the door, and I know it’s not Justin because he wouldn’t knock. Maybe it’s Kelly. Yeah. She probably left something behind. I slide out of bed with a smile, and saunter over to the door. I thrust it open, without taking the time to ask who it is.

Why am I so fucking forgetful?

“Hey.” Trace sticks his hands in his pockets and looks down at the ground.

Why is he here? He shouldn’t be. He knows how I feel about him. And I know he feels the same way about me. We hate each other. He’s hated me since the day I set foot inside of Justin’s house. And I…I’ve disliked him from the beginning, and truly hated him since the day he slapped me across the face. “What?” I grunt.

He finally looks up at me. At first he doesn’t speak, he just stares at me…studies me, like he’s trying to figure out something about me that he could never understand before. I almost tell him to stop staring because he’s not going to figure it out. But then he starts to speak again. “Justin wanted me to see if you were okay. You didn’t call him.”

“Was I supposed to?” I ask him, coldly.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t know what kinda shit goes on with you two. I’m just the messenger.”

I roll my eyes. “Well I’m fine.”

He nods. “I guess so.”

There’s more to this. I mean sure, Justin probably sent him here…but I doubt he would have come here willingly, if there wasn’t more to this. I know I don’t know Trace that well…but judging by the way he acts when I’m around and when Justin is around…I know this guy doesn’t just do things because people tell him to. He’s independent…like Justin. And that’s what makes them so close. “Do you need something?” I ask him regretfully. I shouldn’t be so forgiving. He’s a bastard.

“I just…,” he sighs. “I just…want you to know that….before you…before that day, I never hit a girl before. And…I’ve felt horrible about it…what I did, ever since.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. Did Justin put him up to this? I can’t be sure…but I seriously doubt it. Justin’s told me before…he’s tried to talk some sense into Trace. He’s tried to make him accept me for who I am, but it just hasn’t worked out. Why is he suddenly apologizing to me? I just don’t get it. “You’re…sorry?”

He bites down on his bottom lip and pulls his hands out of his pockets, clenching his fists at his sides. “I’m trying to be,” he whispers. “But I don’t think sorry is good enough, Deja.” He looks down at the ground again, and chuckles a little. “You must think I’m out of my mind, coming here and apologizing like this. I mean really, what am I thinking about?”

“Trace…this whole thing has been crazy from the start.” Am I hearing myself correctly? Am I actually being nice to this guy? After all the nasty things he’s said to me? After he treated me like scum? Damn, I must be the most vulnerable person in the world. “Justin and I…we’re still trying to work things out,” I continue, stupidly. “What happened between you and I was wrong…but I guess I can’t hate you…right?”

“You can’t?” he asks, a glint of hope in his eyes.

I shrug. “No.”

A smile cracks at the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry I made things harder for you. I can tell your life hasn’t been easy.” He sticks out his hand. “Friends?”

I shake his hand. “Weird friends,” I chuckle. “Can’t be normal…because nothing is normal right now.”

“Right,” he says, laughing along with me. “Weird friends.”

I withdraw my hand from his. “So where’s Justin,” I ask him, wanting to change the subject before things get even more awkward. “Still at dinner?”

“Yeah,” he informs me. “They were just getting started on dessert when I left them. He shouldn’t be much longer…do you want me to tell him something for you? I’m goin back there for a few.”

“No, no,” I say. “Whatever I need to say can wait til he gets back. Thanks though.”

He lingers in the doorway. I feel like I should invite him in…lord knows I could use the company. I’m bored out of my mind in this hotel room. But really, how would that look if Justin came back? Me and Trace alone in the room? I almost laugh, because I know I could never mess around with Trace. But still, that’s’ not even the point. I know how Justin is…how his moods are. I don’t need to get into another fight with him today.

“Okay girl,” he says finally. “I guess I’ll be seein you then. If you need something and Justin isn’t back, just call 345...that’s my room extension. I’m just down the hall.”

I smile at him again. “Thanks Trace.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The door closes, and I’m alone again. Now, for the first time I feel like everything is going to work out. That I don’t need to worry so much anymore. That I can just be with Justin…maybe even fall in love with him, and it will be okay. Nobody will have anything to say about it anymore, and for the first time in my life I’ll feel loved, and truly happy.

There’s finally a light at the end of my tunnel.

*********

We talked about a lot of things at dinner tonight…my album being one of them. The rest of the guys took the news surprisingly well, Josh talking it up a little bit before I actually told them of course. I was glad that they were willing to listen to what I had to say. I didn’t think they would be after so many years of being a group, and performing as a group. Maybe they realized that it’s time for us to see what each of us can do as individuals. I know Josh and Lance are thinking that way anyway. Josh wants to do his own music, something he’s been working on since I first met him all those years ago. And Lance…he’s still tryin’ to work out that whole space thing. I really respect him for trying to do something like that. I mean, hell…it takes guts to tell the whole world you’re gonna go to space. I know I couldn’t take something like that on. I’m too much of a pussy.

I wonder if Deja would go to space?

Chris didn’t seem phased by the news. But then, I knew he wouldn’t really be phased. I’ve known him too long for him to be upset about something like this. Out of all of the guys, he’s known me the longest…and he understands that this record is a dream come true for me. I know he’ll be there when it comes out, cheering me on as if it’s the greatest thing to ever happen. He’ll be fine, and do his thing, and when the time comes he’ll be there to start things up again with the rest of us. Joey seemed fine about the news too…but I think he’s got a lot of other things to worry about besides me and my stuff. He’s got a baby to think about, and Kelly…I know she wants to get married. And I know Joey’s worried about that. Commitment. It’s hard for him…probably almost as hard as it is for me, except he deals with it a lot better than I ever have.

All in all though, I think I’ve received a pretty positive response from my friends, which is a lot more than I’d originally hoped for. Now all I have to do is record this album…and hope it doesn’t flop.

I silently slip out of the bathroom, being careful not to make too much noise. Deja was asleep when I got back from dinner, and didn’t seem to notice my return. So, I took a shower, and cleared my head a bit. Now though, I wish she was awake. I really want to talk to her and tell her what happened tonight. I want her to smile and tell me how happy she is for me. But I feel bad waking her, so I’ll just get into bed and wrap my arms around her.

And I do.

“Justin?”

I smile a little, and kiss her neck gently. “Yeah babe,” I whisper. “It’s me.”

“Mmm,” she moans. “It’s late.”

“I know,” I say. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

But she doesn’t listen. I feel her body turn over, and then I see her gorgeous blue eyes staring back at me in the darkness. “How was it?”

“It was good,” I say. “I told them about the record.”

“Did you?” she yawns. “What happened.”

I kiss her forhead, and then her mouth. “It went well.“ I pull her closer to me and tuck my chin between her neck and her shoulder. “They were happy for me.”

“Well that’s good,” she chuckles, returning my kiss. “I’m still sorry about that stupid fight.”

“Nah,” I whisper, stroking her hair gently. “It was stupid. A stupid little thing…it’s not even important. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah…much. Trace came by…he said you wanted to know how I felt,” she informs me.

I sent Trace over because I was worried about Deja and I felt bad that she was probably all alone. I knew it was risky, but I knew I couldn’t leave that table. The guys and I were talking business, and Trace was the only one who didn’t need to be around to listen. “I probably shouldn’t have sent him,” I say softly. “But I was worried about you.”

“It’s okay,” she reassures me. “We…sort of talked.”

“You talked?”

She laughs. “Yeah. Um…he said he was sorry about, well, you know, everything. And…I guess we’re cool now. I mean, I think we are.”

“He apologized to you?” I say, shocked. Trace apologized? The most stubborn person in the world besides me apologized? This hasn’t happened…ever. Trace doesn’t do this. He just doesn’t. He likes who he likes, and he hates who he hates and that’s it. There’s no in-between. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Have I changed so much that he’s decided to give in and be nice to Deja? If I have, then I haven’t noticed.

But this is a good thing isn’t it? Yeah. Trace being on my side is a great thing. I mean, if he accepts Deja, the guys won’t have a problem accepting her either. And the rest of our friends will love her. This is a good thing. A great thing…

Man, I gotta talk to Trace and figure out what the hell he was smoking tonight.

“Well, in a sense yes. I mean, we’re cool now. You don’t have to worry about it anymore, Justin.” She cuddles up to me and a moment later I feel her smile against my chest. “Now we can just be…us.”

Us? I feel myself tense up. I know I said that my feelings for Deja have grown…they have. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve been considering making her my girlfriend for a few weeks now. But here I am, in bed with her…the perfect opportunity to tell her to fuck the contract because I care about her and I want to be with her…

But I can’t get the words out.. I’m gonna puke…

“Your hearts racing,” she tells me. “Calm down.”

I can’t calm down though. The very thought of us being together…me sharing parts of myself with her that have yet to be revealed is scaring the shit out of me. What do I do? What do I say to her?

“Justin?”

“Y-yes,” I manage.

“Do you want to be with me?”

Suddenly, the stiffness in my body starts to leave me. I realize that maybe, I don’t have to say anything at all. No, because she’s doing it for me. This girl…this amazing girl. She’s read my mind. “Deja…” I say finally. “I…I do.”

I feel her lips against mine a moment later, and am pulled into her embrace. Then it starts…the passion we have both come to know so well. But this time…this time it’s real. It’s nothing that I could have ever put into that contract. This is pure feeling…this is something I never thought I would ever feel again.

“I could fall in love with you,” I hear her say, in the midst of all this. “You know that right?”

The words are so beautiful coming from her, I’m at a loss for words. For a moment, I simply stare at her, studying the beautiful woman that she is. Then I nod and say, “I’m already in love with you.”

What?

This is crazy. It sounded like something from Days of Our Lives. I’ve been watching that a lot lately. And I know that’s gay too. If Trace ever found out he’d make sure to inform me of this. I must be tired, or maybe…maybe it was that cake I ate. Maybe I have food poising. These couldn’t possibly be my real feelings. I can’t fall in love again. I can’t. I’ll get lost again…like last time.

“You are?”

Shit. I can’t back out now. But I don’t know what else to do, so I move away from her, and hide my face in the pillow.

I feel her hand running up and down my back a moment later, and I look at her. She’s breathtaking, and I can’t help the feeling that begins to grow inside of me again. I can’t just sit here and try to force this back down into the depths of my tortured psyche. This is what I feel for this girl. I love her. It’s too rushed, and I know that…but what can I do? I can’t help it…this is me, this is who I am. And it’s the very reason why I haven’t been able to hold a relationship together...ever. I fall in love too hard…too fast. And I can’t stop once I’ve started.

The hell with it. “I love you girl.” I pull kiss her passionately. “You just…you always know what to do and what to say. You changed me, Deja. And…I love you for that.”

The tears in her eyes glisten in the moonlight that is shining into the room. I know nobody has ever really loved this girl before. She’s been used…abused by everybody, including myself. She’s never been held, and caressed, and told she’s amazing. But I…I’m gonna be the one who’s gonna do all that. I’m going to be the one to take care of her now. I know it…and she knows it. She took care of me once upon a time.

Now it’s my turn.

“I love you too.” I hear her say.

I kiss her tears away, and let her fall into my arms again. We lay back down into the comfort of the bed, and hold each other for awhile. We don’t’ say anything, and I know we don’t have to. We’re content with what’s happened…and anything we could say right now would only ruin our special night together. I hear her start to snore a little, after some time, and I know she’s fallen asleep. The steadiness of her breathing eventually lulls me off to sleep as well, despite my attempts to stay awake, the wonderful thoughts I have of her still fresh in my mind.

***********

We stayed in LA for an extra week. Justin felt that we needed the time to ‘bond’ and ‘really get to know each other inside and out’. I wasn’t very optimistic about his idea, because I felt that I knew enough about my boyfriend to go home and find out more about him there. I told him that too…and he laughed at me. Looking back on it now though, I’m glad we stayed. I’d never been to California as it was, and Justin took advantage of that. Being who he is…we had access to all the exclusive restaurants I used to hear about on E! and Access Hollywood. He took me to this one place, lord help me if I can remember the name of it now…but it was so beautiful. When you walked in it looked like nighttime…there were twinkling stars and a moon on the ceiling and everything was so magical and beautiful. We even got to sit at this special table upstairs that overlooked the entire restaurant. I was amazed…

Justin told me I would get used to it soon enough.

I don’t understand how anybody can get used to a lifestyle like this, because there’s so much to see and do. You can go anywhere and do anything anytime you want to. The word ‘appointment’ simply doesn’t apply to you…the word ‘reservation’ is unheard of. Justin doesn’t seem phased by any of this…he expects it. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s been getting treated like this for most of his life. Who knows? Maybe I will get used to it…

But I certainly won’t be getting used to it anytime soon.

Justin is so strong now…so much stronger than when I first met him all those months ago. He can control his temper now, and when he’s angry, he talks to me about it rationally instead of blaming it all on me. I can’t even remember the last time he was angry though…things have been so good between us I think I’ve forgotten most of the bad points in our relationship.

Our last day in California was spent looking at different houses that were for sale. Justin told me he’s been thinking about relocating to Los Angeles because it’s so much closer to most of the people he knows, and because it’s easier to do his business there too. The idea scared me a little, because I’ve lived in Tennessee my entire life, but I didn’t say anything about it. I mean, it doesn’t really matter. Jade won’t speak to me, and there’s nothing else left for me in Tennessee but a bunch of bad memories anyway. I love Justin, and he loves me…so I’ll just go wherever he wants to go.

“Come on girl,” Justin tosses the basketball over to me, then pulls his shirt off, wiping the sweat off of his face with it. “Top that.”

We’ve been back in Tennessee for a week now, and things are starting to settle down. Our relationship has never been stronger, and at times I feel like I’ve been with Justin for years. I’m so comfortable with him, and I know he feels the same way around me. When he first told me he was in love with me, I admit, I was scared…but then…it just seemed to fall into place. I trust him…with my whole heart I trust him. I got sick again the other day, and he was right there by my side. He seemed so worried, and it made me feel a little better knowing that if something was really wrong with me he would be there to take care of me. It made me want to be sick all day…as silly as that sounds.

“That’s O!” he laughs, when my attempt to copy his jump shot fails.

I frown. “It’s not my fault. I suck at Horse.”

“Don’t say you suck.” He plods over to me and plants a reassuring kiss on my cheek. “You just don’t practice enough to have my skills.” He takes the ball from me, and after performing some ridiculously complicated slam dunk move, he turns back around to face me. “But you can learn.”

I roll my eyes. “I think I’ll stick to Cookin’ with Emeril.” Justin and I watch that show every Tuesday night. Emeril is my favorite chef of all time. When I lived with Jade we used to watch him all the time…so naturally I had to pull Justin into my fandom as well. So far, I’ve made every dish he’s prepared for Justin and I…without making it taste funny. Justin was so amazed…because he really can’t cook at all. Norma even told me it was good, and that says a lot coming from Norma because that woman is an outstanding cook.

“What’s it gonna be tonight?” Justin asks me. “I gave Norma the night off.”

“Shish kabob,” I smile. “Cajun style. Remember, I made that last week and you loved it.”

He drops the ball on the ground and wraps his arms around me with a smile. “Oh yeah,” he laughs. “It was hot and spicy like you are right now.”

“That was cheesy,” I say, trying to hide my smile from him. My attempt fails of course, and the smile quickly spreads across my face. Then his lips are on mine and I’m lost in him all over again.

“So remember that house we looked at twice,” he asks once our lips part. “The big one up in the hills?”

We looked at so many houses that day I can’t remember which one he’s talking about. To make him happy though I smile, and say “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” he smiles again. “Cuz I bought it.”

“You what?” I blurt out. He bought a house? How can somebody just buy a house…just like that? Oh…wait a second, I forgot…he can have whatever he wants.

“I bought it,” he repeats. “Isn’t that great Dej? Now we can move to LA, and you can get to do all those things you missed out on while we were there. And the place…it‘s only like a half hour from Joeys, and I know you and Kel are pretty good friends now right?”

I nod. I’m still very overwhelmed by his sudden announcement. I mean, I knew we were probably going to move in the coming months…but now…I wouldn’t be surprised if we were packed and out the door in two weeks. It starts to make me wonder…is Justin simply running away from something?

“Deja,” he says, taking my hands in his. “You’re okay with this aren’t you?”

I search his eyes for the truth, but they are unreadable. He seems to truly want this for the both of us…I dunno, maybe I’m just paranoid. “Of course.” I smile softly and kiss him on the mouth. “I just wasn’t expecting you to just…buy a house so quick, that’s all.”

“I’m a spur of the moment kinda guy,” he winks. “You should know that Deja.”

He’s right about that. Justin is too spur of the moment for his own good. It’s the reason I’m here with him now actually. It was his spur of the moment decision that brought me here, and now…it’s his spur of the moment decision that’s going to bring us out to California. Part of me is telling me I shouldn’t’ trust it…

But the other part of me…the part that is desperately in love with him is telling me to say fuck it, and go with the flow.

So I will.