I couldn’t sleep all night. Sure I hated the guy but I didn’t want him to die. Gia was a little pissed I had stopped to help him anyway. She’s still fuming from the night before. Since I couldn’t sleep anyway I trucked out at four a.m. to the local dry cleaner who was kind enough to open the shop for me when she heard my predicament. It just goes to show there is still is some good people in this world.  

I pull up to the dry cleaners and knock on the glass door. The girl comes out from the back and waves, opening the front door with her key, “Hey, come in.”

I come in and Julie locks the door behind us, “Thanks so much, I really needed this. I am one step from getting fired.”

“I’m Julie.” She says, shaking my hand and taking his clothes from my arm.

“I’m Bethany.”

“So who’s this stuff for?” she asks, looking over the shirts.

“Justin Timberlake.” I utter.

Julie sends the stuff into the back and comes back, “Not a fun guy to work for?”

I laugh harshly, “If I had a choice, I would run from the room screaming when he entered the same one as me.”

“Have a house you need to pay for? That’s why I keep this crappy job.”

“No, I keep it to take care of someone.”

_________________________________________________________________

I eventually woke up this morning at five ten when I was shaken awake by Trace and handed a shirt that still had plastic covering it on a hanger.

“Dude, how much shit did you take last night? I heard you were passed out in that club. Damn you know you can’t do that when I’m not there dude.”

I groan and don’t say anything. I grab a quick shower, my head pounding from last night. I pop four advil in my mouth and pull the plastic of the shirt, looking it over. How the hell did she manage to get this dry cleaned? I thought there was no way she could have possibly done what I asked her to do. I hate it when people surprise me.

I go downstairs to the van waiting outside with what’s her name in the car. I pull the door open and get in. I don’t say one word to her and she keeps things totally professional, listing off my laundry lists of things I have to do. I have another photo shoot, then a rehearsal and finally a concert before taking off for Pennsylvania.

I lean my head against the window and put on my sunglasses, blocking the rays from hitting my eyes. I have enough of a headache already. We drive up to a warehouse and Bethany gets out and stands at the door, calling the building to alert them that we are here and to have them open the door. After a minute the door makes a clicking noise and swings open. I’m greeted by a female photographer and we go inside.  

There is a Corvette in the warehouse and I suppose I have to get in there and pose. The photographer starts to set up and I get in the car. She tells me what looks she wants and snaps away. The flashes only add to my discomfort as the bright light snaps in my eyes. I swear I can see stars, and it’s only ten in the morning.  

I try to smile as best as possible for the camera but my hangover looms over me and I squint for most of the shots despite the photographer whining at me to keep them open. Finally she stops, seeing that none of this is going to be getting any better.

The photographer comes over to me to show the three pictures that are actually printable and then leaves. I go over to the girl who name I still can’t remember, “Bailey, can we go already?”

She turns around with a look of sheer frustration, “My name is Bethany.” She sighs, “Would it be easier for you to call me Beth?”

Beth. That sounds easy enough to remember, “Okay, Beth. Now can we leave?”

Beth gives a tired yawn and nods. I silently follow her out the door and back into the car as Todd drives us back to the arena. He parks the car and we get out, walking inside the temperature controlled building to see the stage almost completely put together. A woman stands to the side with Gia and points at Beth and me, “There she is!”

I glance over at the woman and Beth looks up from her blackberry, “Mom?”

That’s her mom? Oh am I going to have some fun. Beth is going to get what she deserved for the whole “Bethany” thing.

“Hi sweetheart.” The woman says. She doesn’t look like Beth, except in the eyes. Hers are tired and she looks like she spends a lot of time working. Dragged down by life maybe. I feel the same way.

“Mom, what are you doing here? I told you I was going to mail the package up.” Beth says, obviously surprised to see her mother.

Beth’s mom hugs her daughter to her, “I know, I just thought I would come and see you, just for a few minutes.”

I decide to introduce myself since Beth has yet to get around to it, “Hi, I’m Justin.” I say, holding out my hand to her.

Beth eyes me carefully as I shake her mother’s hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m Nora. You must be Bethany’s boss.”

“Yes I am.” I say, smiling sweetly at her.

“I hope she’s doing a good job.” Nora says, rubbing her daughter’s back lightly the way mothers do when they are proud of their children.

“She’s not bad, a little slow on the uptake but she makes up what she lacks in what I like the call the cute factor.”  

Nora nods a little, not really understanding what’s going on and Beth has got fire coming out of her eyes.

“Well she’s a real hard worker and she will put a hundred and fifty percent into whatever you tell her to do.”

“I’m sure she will. I imagine she had to do a lot to even land a job with me. You can’t just have been a waitress and get this kind of work.”

Both Nora and Beth go silent and it becomes awkward quickly. Beth is so mad that she’s practically fuming so I decide it’s time to make my exit, “Thanks so much for coming bye, it was nice meeting you.”

I can feel Beth stare hitting the back of my head and head for my dressing room, but crack the door so I’m just out of eyesight but within earshot just in case she decided to bad mouth me to her mother.

________________________________________________________________

I could kill him with my bare hands. Really. My mom looks so ashamed as Justin walks away that it’s probably a good idea not to let me ever handle a gun within five thousand feet of that dick.

I turn to my mother and try to get her to smile, “It’s his way of being funny. He just happens to be horrible at it.” I say comforting her. I decide to keep the details of Justin and I at a minimum. She loves me to pieces and that would only stress her out further than she already does.

“It pays well, that’s all that matters hon.”

I nod and pull an envelope out of my purse and hand it to my mom, “Here you go. It saves me from having to mail it to you.”

Mom takes the envelope and holds my hand, “I swear when I can I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it. How come Sam didn’t come with you?”

Mom smiles, “Because he doesn’t know I’m here. I have to be at work at four and had he’d known I was coming to see you I would never get him back in the car to go home. It’s just easier this way. You’ll get to see him as soon as school is over anyway.”

I nod and cover my chest with my arms, “I know.”

“So how are you doing, really?”

“I’m fine. Sane and fine.”

“If you ever feel like your over your head, just come home.”

I hug my mom once more, “Okay mom. Thanks.”

“I’ll call you later. Bye hon.”

“Bye mom.”

I watch her walk out of the room. I miss seeing my family so much. I am on the road following the most famous but also pampered people on earth. Which reminds me of what I still have to do before the day is over. I turn on my heels and down the hall, to go kill a certain pop star. I can’t even see strait he’s got me so wound. Justin comes out from his dressing room and looks at me, “I am too funny.”

I think I’m seeing red, “You asshole! My mother is a waitress.”

I watch him freeze and turn red, “Oh.”

“That’s all you have to say? Oh? And you were listening to our conversation? What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yell. I know that he can’t even comprehend half of what I said, probably because he’s doped up from the numerous substances available to his lightweight ass, but I continue to yell anyway.

“Look-” he says sputtering.

“No you look. You don’t stop to think about anyone but yourself do you? You try to make me look bad and you end up making yourself look like an ass. Aren’t you the one who quoted it best? What goes around comes around.”

I storm off to the bar even though I know I should be packing my bags and looking at the want adds. My phone starts to ring and its Justin. I turn off the ringer and go to the package store for the bottle of wine. Screw him, I’m putting my feet up for once.  

_______________________________________________________________

I finally find Beth hours later after calling her cell phone for hours. Something bad happened. Really bad and I’m not just talking about what happened between Beth and me. I’m talking about Rolling Stone Magazine.

I looked all over the venue for her before running over to the hotel and getting key to her room. I heard her screaming so I opened the door and ran in to find Beth sleeping and carrying out, “Sarah.”

Who’s Sarah? Then again, why the fuck do I care? I don’t. For all I know, it’s a monster in her closet that she named.  

I shake her until she opens her eyes and practically rips off my head, “What the fuck do you want Timberlake?”

“Listen, maybe it wasn’t one of my smoothest moments with your mom, but you still work for me and I would watch my tone if I were you.”

“Well you’re not me.” She bites back.

“Listen to me, we have a problem.”

Beth folds her arms over her chest and sits up, “I know, but it’s nothing therapy and rehab couldn’t cure.”

I want to fire her ass right now but she’s the only assistant I have had so far that can actually accomplish anything, “Rolling Stone called and said they are going ahead with my quotes from the interview I had with them.”

“So?”

“So I may have let it slip how many different drugs I use and how often. And maybe how many groupies I sleep with.”

Beth just stares at me for a moment before speaking, “You are a PR nightmare, you know that?”

“Just fix it.” I mutter.

“I can’t do anything. There is no such thing as journalist integrity anymore even if you do deny the quotes, which you legitimately gave them. I can call your Jack so he can argue with them but don’t hold your breath.” Beth says, brushing past me and walking out the door.