“Are you hungry?” Justin asked, leading Delia through the tunnel back into the Paris-Charles de Gaulle airport terminal. It was almost 2pm on Sunday afternoon, and their flight had just landed in Paris.
“I could eat, yeah,” Delia replied, masking a yawn behind her hand. She’d hoped to catch up on some sleep on the flight, but that hadn’t happened. Justin wanted to talk to her, and they’d pretty much chatted the entire flight. After almost seven years of friendship, Delia couldn’t remember the last time that they’d spent so many hours just talking about anything and everything.
“I’m starving, and I think we have like three hours before the next flight,” he replied, tossing a glance back at her. She nodded in agreement and continued following him. There were smiling flight attendants greeting the passengers as they exited the tunnel at the gate, and then there was a frenzy of people rushing to connecting flights or baggage claim.
“Let’s get customs out the way, then we’ll find some croissants or something,” Justin joked in his horrible French accent. It was reminiscent of his Jacques Grande character, and it simply made Delia chuckled loudly. Following the signs towards customs, they stood in line for about half an hour. Finally, pushing through the crowd and holding onto his hand, Delia led them through the terminal and followed the signs towards baggage claim.
“Do you know where you’re headed?” Justin asked, holding tightly to her hand and trying to keep his head down to avoid being seen.
“Would you like to guide us?” Delia smirked, knowing that his knowledge of French was way limited. Coming to a stop, she motioned for him to lead. Standing behind Justin as he stood there looking every which way, she tried her hardest not to laugh.
“Oh zip it, come on, take me to the food,” he groaned, tugging her arm. Laughing, she shook her head and walked on. The clicking of her stilettos was muffled by the buzz of people’s chit chat. Finding her way towards baggage claim, Delia found the food court.
“What do you want?” she asked as they stood shoulder-to-shoulder looking at the variety of restaurants. She really wasn’t all that hungry, but she knew she needed to eat, especially, because they still had about another fourteen hours of traveling ahead of them.
“I don’t know. Pick something for me, I need to go use the restroom,” he shrugged and walked away. Her jaw dropped slightly, before shaking her head and watching him walk away.
“What an ass!” she laughed. He always did this. He could never pick a place. He’d say that it was too difficult to choose, so she’d give him options. And in the end, she’d still end up making the decisions. His inability to make up his mind on the most mundane things amused her.
“Donnez-moi deux quiche lorraines, un tarte de fraise, et deux thés de grenade, s'il vous plait,” she spoke to the gentleman behind the counter. She’d probably end up giving half her quiche to Justin anyway, but that strawberry tarte was all hers. Paying for it, she stepped off to the side and waited patiently.
“You know, I’m really glad I kidnapped you and not Trace,” Justin spoke up behind her as she stood waiting for her order to be called. Laughing, she rolled her eyes and looked at him for an explanation.
“And why is that smartass?” she questioned, unfolding her arms from her chest.
“You’re much nicer to look at,” he shamelessly flirted, and she simply laughed it off. She was used to his flirty comments, and she’d become immune to them after so many years. She always laughed when women swooned at him, and he did it for the effect as well.
“Shut your trap, Timberlake,” she walked off towards the counter. Accepting the bagged meals and the two cups of pomegranate tea, she thanked the employee before turning to Justin. He took the two drinks from her hands, and they walked around looking for an available table.
“You should really watch how loud you say my name. Are you in the mood to run from a mob in those shoes?” Justin questioned, and Delia mockingly glared at him. She absolutely hated being hushed, even if she understood the circumstances.
“What’d you get?”
“Quiche Lorraine,” she shrugged and began to empty the contents of the bag onto the table. Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, Justin reached for a wrapped entrée and went to town, devouring it.
“My goodness, will I need to go get more?” she laughed, unwrapping her own and digging into it, with a bit more grace than Justin. He shrugged, but continued eating. Enjoying their food, not much was said. Delia found it weird to be inside the airport, eating, and still wearing shades. But, she understood that because Justin was traveling without any security, precautionary measures had to be taken. Even though the media didn’t know her by name, fans knew her face. If she was recognized, it would lead to Justin being recognized. And, that could lead to mayhem.
“You should wear beanies more often. You’re looking cute, très chic,” he said after a bit. Her eyes rose from where they’d been eyeing the strawberry tarte calling her name.
“Well, thank you. But, I have to credit my incredible stylist, Randall,” she smirked and he scrunched his nose. “I almost fear seeing what you packed for me.”
“I packed things that were in your closet, so if you fear that, then you need to revamp your wardrobe,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his tea. “You’ve got to be the only person that can make me drink pomegranate tea.”
“And your mother loves me for it,” Delia smiled, thinking of all the times Lynn had expressed gratitude for making sure that Justin was taken care of when she was away.
“And Jessica hated you for it,” Justin laughed, before the past tense of his statement hit him. It’d been only a couple of weeks since he’d finally pulled the plug on the almost four year relationship.
“One of the many things that made her dislike me,” Delia ignored the tense look that crossed over Justin’s face. She was never the one to baby him, always making sure that he approached each issue head-on. And, she was only waiting until they got to wherever to tackle this subject with him. She’d been just as surprised as probably Jessica to find out about the break-up, and she knew that Justin needed to overcome the break-up before the media grabbed hold of the news.
“You always ignored it, though,” he said softly, referring to Delia turning a deaf ear to Jessica’s comments or actions.
“I’m your friend, and I didn’t need more friends,” she shrugged, and he laughed. A laugh that caused him to throw his head back with jubilance.
“Your loud ass is gonna get us found. You know your fans know everything, even the way your sneezes and farts sound,” Delia hushed him, smacking his arm. He arched an eyebrow at her comment before chuckling once more.
“Have Trace or Lynn replied to your email? I bet they’re freaking out right about now,” Delia asked, once the laughter subsided.
“I haven’t checked, and I think I’ll wait until we get to Mauritius. I just don’t want to know,” he shrugged, moving the straw in his iced tea around and around.
“I agree. So, how’d you come up with Mauritius? I didn’t even think you’d heard of it,” she quipped and he sarcastically laughed.
“I went online and searched for the most beautiful beaches in the world. I saw this picture for Belle Mare there and that was it. I made my mind up in like ten minutes,” he shrugged, still not meeting her eyes. She continued looking at him, trying to decipher his thoughts. But, she was coming up empty handed.
“So, why not Trace?” she asked, his earlier comment coming to mind.
“I thought about him. You know, my ride or die, but I knew he’d bitch the entire way. He’d want to bring Sam and do work while here. Then, he’s been talking about getting in some new calf. But, I think above all he’d want to go somewhere to party and live it up. Then, there was you. I knew you had school to get ready for, but I figured you needed this too, one last hoorah before this last semester,” he explained, his gaze raising up to meet hers.
“What if I wanted to go somewhere to party and live it up?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He laughed softly, shaking his head before answering.
“Then we’ll hit up a club or a bar on a couple of nights and you’ll be set. Trace would want to go every night,” he smirked, and she knew he was right.
“He means well,” she defended Trace with a slight laugh, thinking of all the horrible mistakes Trace has done in the past.
“And I love him, but I need peace of mind,” Justin laughed, shaking his head as well.
“Well, all I know is I deserve the ‘best friend’ title after this,” she kidded, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms.
“You earned that a long while ago, Del,” he replied, sincerity dripping from his mouth and pooling on the tabletop. She remained silent, a small smile on her lips. And, he returned the tender smile.
----
“Oh come on, your mom doesn’t know about your tattoo yet?” Justin exclaimed, clapping in excitement at the new bit of information that he’d uncovered. The duo sat in the sitting area outside their gate, waiting boarding to be announced for their last flight.
“No, and she doesn’t need to know,” Delia defended, burying her face with her hands.
“Oh man, you got it like what, 4 or 5 years ago?” Justin recalled, thinking back to that day when she called him crying. She’d thought that she could go through with it, but once she’d gotten to the tattoo parlor, she had lost it. So, she called him from the parlor in tears and asked him to come. Thinking back, he had been in the middle of a William Rast meeting, but he’d left and met her there.
“Yeah, something like that. And, I’ll tell her eventually. You know she’ll want to fly down here and beat my ass,” Delia sighed before laughing.
“I love your mom, though. But, I fear her more than my momma and grandma combined,” Justin shuddered to exaggerate his comment. Laughing, Delia playfully smacked his arm before agreeing with him.
“She is a scary thing. When she finds out I skipped the country, she’s going to be upset I didn’t invite her. And, I’ll have to tell her you kidnapped me. It’ll save my ass,” she shrugged, a smirk tugging at her lips.
“Oh yeah, and throw mine to the wolves,” Justin grumbled, his body slouching in his seat. Rolling his eyes at him, she turned her attention to the other passengers lounging. Everyone was in their own world. People fiddled with their cell phones or typed away on their laptops. Some read from a magazine, newspaper, or book.
“Do you think all these people are going on vacation as well?” she whispered, bumping Justin’s shoulder for his attention. She could see that his eyes had been shut from behind his Ray-Bans, but he opened one eye. She motioned towards the people sitting around them, and he looked over at them.
“I doubt it. They’re all too busy catching up on work,” he finally replied, turning his neck to look up at her.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Poor them,” she gloomily mocked, before snickering. Justin snorted in response, covering his mouth to mask his laughter.
“We’ll light a candle for them or something,” he quipped, shaking his head.
“Yeah, or something,” she replied, before announcing she was going to use the restroom before the flight. He nodded and offered to watch her purse and coat. Watching her saunter away in her skinny jeans, black stilettos, and tank, he found himself shaking his head and laughing lightly.
“I wish she knew how hot she is,” he said under his breath, shaking his head one last time before resting his head back against the wall behind the chairs.
