“I’m going to—“ I start.

“Chill with your girls.  Yeah, I know,” he says flatly, finishing my sentence.  Justin is silent on the phone as I continue to get ready for my night out and it’s killing me.  Though the sound of hurt in his voice, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, pains me more.  

He calls me every night while he’s away, whether he’s on tour, or promoting, or filming somewhere.  That’s the way it’s been since we’ve been together.  That’s the way it’s been for the past two years.  And for those twenty-four months he’s maybe been home for about fourteen, not consecutive of course.

Don’t get me wrong.  I am extremely happy for him and I want nothing more than for him to have continued success.  But you can see how his growing success has put a strain on our relationship.  At first I used to sit at home alone, his phone call being the highlight of my day, but now I’ve found my own way of dealing with his absence.  And after speaking to him, I feel more and more depressed.

“So how was your day?” I ask, trying to break the silence.  For the past few months our conversations had become very bland and lackluster.  I held the phone between my shoulder and cheek as I looked around the room for my new graffiti pumps by Christian Louboutin. I told Justin not to buy them for me, but he insisted.

“It was okay.  The guy on the radio show was a dick, but whatever.  I’ve dealt with worse.  What about you?”  His voice is soft and I can barely hear him.  I sometimes feel like he’s afraid to talk to me.  Afraid of what I might say.

“Huh? Oh.  I just went to class.  Boring stuff.”  I’m a first year graduate student at UCLA, getting a masters degree in global fashion management.  I didn’t think it was possible for me to find someone that was busier than me.  I also never thought I’d be in a relationship with Justin Timberlake.

I met him two and a half years ago while I was at F.I.T getting a degree in Fashion Design.  Justin was in New York for Fashion Week and I was covering some of the shows as an intern for Vogue.  Beyoncé was having a release party for her new line Deréon by House of Deréon.  It was the biggest and busiest event that I had ever been to at the time.  I was actually invited to enjoy myself, not as a job, but I had just done really poorly on an exam so I wasn’t very excited to be there.

I was sitting at the bar, about to order a drink when… 

“Don’t worry about it sweetheart.  You’ve been taken care of.”  He pushes a drink toward me and it’s a Cosmo.  It was like he’d read my mind. 

“What?  By whom?” I asked, looking around for someone I might know.

“Compliments of Mr. Timberlake.”

I’m about to put the glass to my lips when I start laughing.  “Timberlake?  Please.  Which loser in here is honestly going to think that I’m going to fall for that?”  I turn back toward the bar, straightening out my new Versace mini dress.  I spent my entire paycheck on it the week before my 18th birthday as a gift to myself.  That was the first designer item I’d ever owned.

“Loser?  Ouch.”  I hear a smooth voice behind me and I turn to see Justin standing there with his hand on his chest, mocking pain.

The words ‘Oh my God’ would have left my mouth had I not been in complete and utter shock.  It took me a while to realize that the beautiful man in front of me was indeed real.  Once I mustered up the confidence I knew I had to move, I smiled.

“Hi. I’m --.”

“Phaedra,” he says and I almost want to melt at the sound of my name on his lips.  “I know who you are.”

“You do?”  My curiosity brings me closer to reality.  How could this man possibly know who I was?  Sure, I knew a lot about him.  I’d been a fan of his since I was twelve, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah. I’ve been watching you all night and I had someone find out for me.”

“So you’re stalking me?” I say after taking a sip.  There’s that confidence that I was looking for.

He smiles that big white sexy smile and shakes his head.  “I wouldn’t call it that.  I’d call it admiration.”

“Hmm…Well thanks for the drink.  You ask people about what I drink too?”

“Actually, no.”  He takes a seat next to me.  I can smell his cologne and I have to try extremely hard to keep from leaning toward him.  I’m really good at hiding my emotions.  “Well you look like the Cosmo kind of woman.”

“Oh really,” I say, crossing my long legs.  Thank God for my tall parents.  “And what exactly is a Cosmo kind of woman like?”

He smiles again and I can’t wait to hear his answer to my question.  “They’re smart, powerful, and extremely sexy.”

“I’ll give you the sexy part.  That one is a given.  But as for the others, what makes you say so?  You don’t even know me,” I say, putting the now empty glass down.

“But I’d like to.”  That butterfly feeling I got in my stomach when Bobby told me he liked me in fourth grade suddenly came back.  But as I mentioned earlier, I’m a pro at hiding my feelings.

I stand, extending my hand for him to take.  “Okay.  Well you can start by dancing with me.”

He took my hand and led me out onto the dance floor.  He had this strange way of being aggressive yet gentle at the same time.  Dancing with him was unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced.  I just felt so free with him.

As cheesy as it sounds, the night that I met Justin was one of the best nights of my life.  For the next six months every date we had after that he blew me away, even if it was just a DVD at his house and some take out.  He just had this way of making me feel special all the time.

And then I had to go and fuck it all up.

I knew that being in a relationship with him wasn’t going to be easy.  He even told me that it would be hard, saying that he wouldn’t blame me or hold it against me if I wanted to get out before times got rough.  But I didn’t.  I stuck with him.  When I graduated from college I moved to LA to live with him, thinking it would make things easier.

At first it wasn’t that hard.  He’d only be away for a week or two at a time and he’d take me with him when he could.  But when graduate school started up his trips became longer and I couldn’t go with him because I couldn’t miss that much class.  I was alone in that huge house for months at a time.

“Justin, I have to go now.  I’m running late.”  I am a terrible person and I’m going to hell.

“Phaedra—“

“Yes?”  My heart started beat out of my chest.  Was this going to be the moment that I’d had nightmares about several times?

He sighed heavily into the phone and I swallowed hard, awaiting his next words.  “Um…” He was silent for what seemed like forever.  “Have a good time.”  He didn’t do it.  And I don’t know why, but part of me wanted him to.  Part of me wanted him to confront me, expose me for the person that I really was, but he didn’t do it.

“Thanks, baby.  I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And I hung up the phone, wiping a tear that had escaped my eye.  I knew I meant it.  I loved him with everything within me.  I just hoped he knew that.  But I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t believe me.

Because we both know that I was not going out with my girls.