Get me water, I want beer, call my massage therapist, get me food, fix this shirt. That was the summarization of my first day on the job. Not one thank you, can you or please. I rub my feet with cream as I sit on my bed, slowly running my hands over them and massaging the blisters. In the five years I have been working as a personal assistant I have never had my feet hurt so much. Note to self-wear sneakers tomorrow. I wanted to look professional on my first day, but I have a feeling that I would have been treated better had I worn a thong and gone topless. Fuck the shoes.

The door to the hotel room opens and Gia comes into the room and smiles at me sitting on the bed. Her face gives a sympathetic look towards me and puts her bag down on the chair, “How was your first day?”

I look up from my aching feet and try to suck it up, “Fine.”

“He was a chauvinistic pig wasn’t he?”

Okay, enough of the pretending. It’s not like she doesn’t know what he’s like; the trick is just to end on a high note.

“Yeah, but I guess that’s how most celebrities males are. I have only worked with John Mayer in his early days and Keith Urban so I am just not used to big celebrities like him. Both Keith and John were popular when I worked with them, but it’s nothing to the extent that Justin’s fame.”

Gia sits down in the chair and removes her shoes, “Bullshit. That man has got to be the worst I have ever worked for. And I have worked for a lot of celebrities.”

I get up and grab the half of my tuna sandwich from lunch, unwrapping the plastic wrap around it, “Why does he do that?”

“So you do think about running away screaming.”

I bite my lip and smile a little. I can tell this girl is going to be fun to work with. At least this job has one perk.

Gia shrugs, “Bad experience with a previous girlfriend I guess.”

So I guess I’m dealing with damaged goods. I pop a grape into my mouth and offer some to Gia. She smiles and takes a few from my hand, “Thanks. You know, out of all the personal assistants Justin has had over the last few years, you are my favorite.”

I look at her curiously, “You have known me a matter of hours and you can determine that already?”

Gia nods, “Your not power hungry. Most people come in here and act all high and mighty, barely talking to anyone in hopes that they might get the next person’s job. You came in here and were totally different from the others. You came here to do your job and I respect that.”

“Thanks. So how many assistants has Justin gone through?”

Gia grabs two sodas from the mini fridge, “In the last two years, Justin has gone through fifteen.”

“Fifteen?” My eyes get big and I’m surprised their not popping out of my head. I don’t think Motley Crue went through that many assistants.

She hands me a soda and plops down onto the bed with me, “He likes to put the likes of you through hell and back. Just wait until he starts asking you to pick up family size boxes of condoms, cut up his food or asking you to make sure the girl he sleeps with tonight disappears tomorrow morning.”

I push my hair back with my hand, hoping that it doesn’t look half as disheveled as I feel. My body aches from running around all day while carrying everything that Justin needed during the day, yet never ended up using. My arms gave out holding his shit at about two in the afternoon and continued to hold them until ten tonight. I really thought that my arms were going to fall off. Only later did I come to find out that one of the bags I had to carry had to twenty pound weights in them just in case he needed to exercise. Oh yeah, you heard correctly.

“So how old are you anyway?” Gia asks.

“Twenty five, you?”

“Twenty eight. My dad wanted me to me a doctor, but I started doing concert events with my friend when I was eighteen, which eventually lead to being an assistant for road managers which led me to Johnny, Justin’s manager.”

I take a sip of my soda, letting the liquid slide down my throat easily, quenching my thirst, “I took this job so I could be around the music.”

Gia smiles, “Are you some sort of groupie or something?”

“No, not in the least. I don’t idolize those who sing, I relish in their music. Normally I pick people whose music I love, but I really didn’t have a choice this year. I needed a tour that ended in September so I could move around freely after that to take care of some things. Justin’s is the only tour that ends in early September this year.”

“I know. We started the tour early this year in order to end it early.”

I finish up my sandwich and tuck my legs underneath my body, yawning as I look at the clock which reads one twenty three.

Gia gives me a pat on the back and heads to her adjoining room, “Listen, in the famous words of Scarlett O’Hara, tomorrow is another day. Get some sleep.”

I roll my eyes, “Scarlett O’Hara was a piece of cake to deal with compared to Justin Timberlake.” ________________________________________________________________The

The girl stands at a distance from me, as though she's trying to keep from contracting anything I might be carrying. She has a judgmental look in her eyes and every time she answers me, her voice in laced with resentment. Hey, feel free to go babe, I can replace you with a snap of my fingers. That might have something to do with making her carry my weights around, but then again, it was just fun to watch.

Might as well as put her to go use, “Go get me some something to eat.” I say in her direction.

“What would you like?” she says way too sweetly.

I give her an equally condescending smile and snap, “Surprise me.”

Her shoulders drop in exhaustion and leave to go find me something. Once she’s gone, I take a bag of powder out of the pocket of my jacket. I put some on the table and start sniffing away. I take a gasp for air as my chest heaves, but then my body relaxes and I lay back against the chair.

The girl comes back with something on a plate and tries to hand it to me, but I can see three of her standing there and I’m not sure which one to take the plate from. After about a minute of deciding which one is really there I give up, I’m not that hungry anyway. I hear her voice coming at me, but it’s kind of jumbled, like when someone talks to you and you’re underwater. Finally the three of her returns to one and I can actually understand what she’s saying.

“Are you okay?”

Hell yes baby, “Great.”

I watch her bite her tongue as she sets the food in front of me and goes sit down. Johnny comes in the lounge area and I smile as he comes over to me, “Dude.”

Johnny laughs, “Boy do you look good.”

Johnny turns to the girl who is looking at us and lowers his voice, gesturing to her, “New piece of ass?”

I laugh, not in a million years, “Naw, new assistant. Um… Brenda.” I say as she comes over, thinking that she will probably be running errands for him as well over the course of this tour.

Johnny shakes her hand, “Nice to meet you Brenda.”

She looks at me like I’m an idiot, “Actually it’s Bethany and it’s nice to meet you.”

Brenda, Bethany. What’s the difference? Nothing at all.

Johnny pats my leg as I chills start to cover my body, taking over my ability to move, “Lay off that shit until after your concert. You need to be able to actually move your lips to the song.”

“That’s not all I have to move.” I mumble.

Bethany moves to the door when a banging can be heard from someone’s fist pounding on it, which makes my head ache and I scream, “Get the fucking door!”

Bethany jumps a little and opens the door, allowing Trace to come in, unfazed by the fact that Bethany is as white as a ghost.

“Dude, there are some groupies hanging out in the hallway, we should totally go pick them up and blow their minds.” He grins.

I try to stand up, but my legs buckle underneath me. Trace grabs my arm before I hit the ground and laughs, “I thought I told you to wait until I was here to get strung out with you.”

I see Bethany move towards me as I fell, but she backs off when Trace catches me. She sits at the edge of her seat as if ready to jump at a moments notice for a doctor. She would be better off calling the funeral home than a doctor.

I move back to the chair carefully with Trace’s help, “I couldn’t wait that long.”

“That’s okay, we’ll bring the girls to us. Hey you, go get those girls in the hall.” Trace says to Bethany.

Boy does she look happy. She walks outside and then opens the door as some girls come running in and hang on us. It’s going to be a long day.

When I’m on stage, everything’s right. I focus on what I am really, truly good at. It’s the one thing that has always made sense to me. No one can describe the feeling that comes over you when the lights come down and hit you, awaiting your performance. It’s like being able to breathe freely again, if only for a short period of time.

Then it ends and everything goes back to the way it was.

It doesn't hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?

It's you and me.
And if I only could
Make a deal with God,
And get him to swap our places,

Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
So if I could, oh

My security team brings me one of the girls from the crowd who’s breasts are practically falling out of the shirt she’s wearing, if you can call it that. Blonde and giggling, this girl shoves herself against me, grinding against my body. I grab a bottle of Jack Daniels and take a swig, handing her the bottle in an attempt for an ice breaker. Though I probably don’t need one since this girl would spread her legs right this second if I asked her too, it helps to loosen her up that much more. She takes a long sip and lunges for me.

I am already high and this girl is taking me to a whole different level. It’s better than dealing with reality. We slam our bodies into the wall as we wait for someone to open the elevator since it requires a access code to work it.

You don't want to hurt me,
But see how deep the bullet lies.
Unaware I'm tearing you asunder.
Ooh, there is thunder in our hearts.
There's so much hate for the ones we love?
Tell me, we both matter, don't we?
It's you and me won't be unhappy.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God, And let him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building,
Say, if I only could, oh...

“Are we going to your room or what?” the girl moans.

“Fuck yes, as soon as someone opens it. Don’t worry, there will be someone here soon.” I gasp as she feels me up.

Someone walks up and enters the code and I push the girl into the elevator with me. I slip my hands underneath the girl’s skirt and finally the elevator stops at our level. We continue to make out and I look up as she opens the hotel room for us, “Barbra?”

She doesn’t even look at me as she walks away, “It’s Bethany.”

You,
It's you and me,
It's you and me won't be unhappy
. C'mon, baby, c'mon darling,
Let me steal this moment from you now.
C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling,
Let's exchange the experience, oh..."

I know that I have practically given other assistants a peep show and it has never bothered me who saw or what gender they were. But somehow, I care. None of them have ever been disgusted with me, rather fascinated by the glamorous life I lead.

I feel… Oh I don’t how I feel. Or rather I do and don’t want to admit it. I shake my head in an effort to make myself stop thinking about this shit and I pull the girl into the room with me, slamming the door closed.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And let him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And let him to swap our places, comfortable
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.