1. She's Cheating On You
Britney Jean Spears. We met like a million years ago on MMC and then managed to find our way back to one another four years later. Well, actually, we did... stuff before then, but we didn’t become the official couple that you know of until the summer of ‘99. I think you’re all familiar with her as the former love of my life, who quickly turned into the bane of my existence. I guess, from what you’ve witnessed, our relationship seemed pretty damn cut and dry. Well, there were a lot of cuts in our relationship; both of us tending to take stabs right at the heart. When we broke up, it appeared that she did all the dirt, didn’t it? Well, that’s because that’s how I wanted it to seem. But maybe I should start our sordid story a bit further back in time.
September 6, 2001. One year after our coming out party at the previous year’s VMAs, two years into our fairytale love affair, the shit hit the fan when I found out that the love of my life “ yes, Britney “ had quite a few plans of her own. Yeah, those lyrics didn’t just come out of nowhere.
The previous day, once the tumultuous process of VMA rehearsals had ended, I was scheduled to meet with Brit at this little joint on the corner of 59th Street for a quick lunch before she had to be at the Metropolitan Opera House for her own run-through. However, before I could reach that point in my day, the only choreographer in the world that I would’ve trusted my life with decided that he wanted to pull the knife out of my back that I’d unknowingly had in me for quite some time.
“Justin, can we talk?” he requested, seeing me ending a phone call with Britney as we headed through the hollow halls of backstage at the opera house. “It’s important.”
I didn’t like the look on his face. Beyond the blonde spiky hair and facial hair very similar to mine, there was this air of discomfort that I wasn’t sure I wanted to delve into. “What’s it about?” Turning the corner with me, into *NSYNC’s dressing room, he kept his dark eyes fixated on the floor, silent to my question. “You’re gonna have to speak up,” I avoidably laughed. “What’s on your mind?”
We walked into the room to see Chris and Joey already vegged out on the double-paneled couch, dropping Skittles into their mouths. “It’s kind of private,” he replied quietly.
I picked up the backpack that I’d come in with from the floor and gave him a questioning stare. “Listen, can we talk about it tonight? I’m gonna be late for my lunch.”
“But it has to do with your lunch?”
I sighed, annoyed that the fat bastard had the nerve to be telling me what I should and shouldn’t eat. “Wade, I won’t eat any French fries, all right?”
“It’s not that.”
“I’ll eat two salads,” I added with a laugh, walking out of the door to leave him in the room.
“She’s cheating on you,” he blurted out just in time for the tall, gray door to slam in his face.
I heard those four words and I swear, I was ready to fuck him up. I quickly turned around, inadvertently leaving Dre, a loved and trusted member of my security, waiting at the opposing end of the hall for me. I opened the door and threw my bag back down. “Yo, could y’all get out for a minute?” I asked my bandmates.
Without a word or question, Joey and Chris scuttled out of the small room while Wade backed away from my approaching form. “I’m sorry,” he quickly began.
“Say it again,” I demanded.
“I am sorry,” he repeated. “We never meant to hurt you, man.”
“We? What the fuck are you talkin’ about!”
“Justin, calm down.”
“Dude. You better take that shit back real quick.” I quickly stalked to the other side of the room before I completely lost it on his ass and I had a lawsuit on my hands. I certainly had enough of those already. “Wade, take it back.”
“I can’t.”
“Why? Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth. And I just couldn’t watch you fall any more in love with her without saying something.”
“You’re a fuckin’ liar,” I told him as if it were fact.
“I’m trying to be your friend here, Justin. I didn’t“.”
“Just shut up,” I gestured, unwilling to hear anymore bullshit from him. “A friend wouldn’t blatantly lie about something like this, so spare me the loyal ally speech.”
As I walked out of the room, leaving the shit I was supposed to take with me, this overwhelming feeling of anguish developed in the pit of my stomach. After all the drama we’d had that day with trying to alleviate the scheduling conflicts between us and Michael Jackson, I was prepared for him to tell me that I, in fact, wouldn’t be sharing the stage with my idol the next night. But Britney, cheating “ I wasn’t ready for that. But then, the problems that you worry most about never really seem to ignite. It’s always the ones that catch you unexpectedly on a Wednesday afternoon that manage to fuck your shit up.
On some level, I knew he was right. It’s one of those things you put out of your head until someone else “ well somefive or six else, in my case “ confirms it. I’ve heard it all before, trust me, but I never cared to really take heed. That’s just one of the things that comes with dating Britney Spears. But for some reason, Wade’s admission seemed to take the biggest toll on me. I didn’t prod him for more information or detail because, I mean, a person that I considered one of my closest friends wouldn’t drop a bomb like that without having some sort of substantial proof or reasoning behind it.
And all of these things people told me
Kept messing with my head
“J, what’s wrong?”
I glanced across one of the many small tables at Nancy’s, engaged in conversation with Britney, finding that every word she uttered seemed to gravitate back towards the ‘great guy’ that Wade is. I sat at that table, listening to my girlfriend confess that she was cheating on me and I was doing nothing about it. It was a staggering epiphany, ‘cause what the hell was I supposed to do? There’s nothing more damaging to the soul than to realize that the person you’re giving your heart to has no respect for you. So, as I sat there internalizing all the information that I would’ve had a long time ago, had I been honest with myself, I decided that she wasn’t the only person that could play games.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I finally answered, staring into her bottle blonde bangs instead of her chocolate brown eyes. “Why?”
“You seem a little distracted.”
“No, I’m fine,” I assured her. “I’m just noticing how gorgeous you are today.”
She smiled so that her face lit up before her peachy shade turned a light pink. “You’re too good to me.”
Hell fuckin’ yeah I am. “No, you deserve so much more than that.” And maybe it’s time you start to get it.
Should’ve picked honesty
Then you may not have blown it
That night, when I was supposed to be herded around New York City from one celebrity party to another, I instead was seated at the base of my hotel room’s bed, nestled into my mother’s arms with tears streaming down my face. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m pretty quick to shed a few tears. I’m not ashamed of it now, but back then, I did think it was kind of a pussy ass move, so I only did it in the privacy and solace of my mom’s company.
The constant rock that she is, she held on for dear life, never once attempting to defend Britney, or cast doubt over what I told myself was already true. She just said what she always says. “I’m here for you.”
I sighed loudly, letting it turn into something close to a roar and picked myself up from the hard carpet. “I just have all these fuckin’ questions goin’ through my head, man. Like, when did this shit start?”
“If you really want the answer, maybe you should ask her,” my mom replied calmly.
“And you think she’d really tell me the truth.”
“I think you’d be one step closer if you asked.”
“I don’t even know if I really want the answer,” I admitted. “I just“ Shit!” I yelled, accidentally putting a dent in the door of the entertainment center when I punched it. As I walked in circles around the space-filled bedroom, I realized, “The fucked up thing, though, is that I hate her right now“”
“But you still love her,” she finished for me.
“Yeah.”
“It’s not gonna go away in a matter of hours, baby.”
“But I want it to.”
“It won’t,” she maintained. “You’ve spent half your life developing a friendship with this girl “ a love that just doesn’t disappear.”
“Not even if I push it away?”
“You can try, Justin, but who’s it gonna hurt more? Her? Or you?”
“It’s gonna fuck me up,” I answered harshly. I sat down on the bed, pouting, and added softly, “I just want it to fuck her up, too.”
So you took a chance and made other plans
But I bet you didn’t think that they would come crashing down
VMA night was pretty insane. Not only did *NSYNC take the stage with fuckin’ Michael Jackson, but I felt like we had hosted the damn show. We were on stage more than Jamie Foxx. Four freakin’ awards, dude. Count ‘em, motherfuckers “ four; including my favorite category: Viewer’s Choice.
All those career accolades are what kept a somewhat genuine smile on my face for Britney, for y’all... ‘cause there were some moments where I was ready to just lose it. Brit asked only about a million times what was wrong with me, and a million times, keeping my arm around her shoulder and my body turned towards her, I told her that I was fine while secretly wanting to go off on her ass. I think I played it off pretty well on camera, though, right? It fascinates me how my fake smiles put everyone at ease and the world is none the wiser. And trust me “ I’ve mastered the art of the fake smile.
After the show ended, me and my brother from another mother, Trace, left Britney with her idiot personal assistant, Felicia, and got a headstart for the Trump Towers to change clothes and get ready to paint the town red. Or maybe blue is more appropriate in my situation.
Yo, after tonight, don’t leave your girl ‘round me
True playa, for real
“So, what’s the game plan?” Trace asked as we entered the hotel with Dre and Todd on our heels.
Moving through the lobby, I was finally able to remove my rose-colored glasses and see the beautiful world for what it is, and all the gorgeous women inside it. “Anything goes, man.” I’d told Trace all about the drama over breakfast that morning, and he agreed that I couldn’t let this shit ruin my life. Or, at the very least, my night.
Damn right, I loved you, you were my girl
You see I thought the world of you
But you’re so steady leavin’ babe
“You sure?”
“I’m sure, man. She has this coming.”
“I know you think that today, but you’re not gonna wake up in the morning and wish you could take it all back, are you?”
You don’t have to call, it’s okay girl
‘Cause I’mma be alright tonight
“Fuck it. If she can do it, so can I.”
He put a comforting hand to my back, repeating, “As long as you’re sure.”
I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t certain of anything at that point. At the time, I was naive enough to believe that my twenty short years on Earth had taught me enough about love to have complete faith in it, but that night, when truth came crashing down on me, all the other bullshit went right out the window. So, I guess what I was sure of was that I didn’t know shit. And unfortunately, that wasn’t gonna stop me.
Gonna boogie tonight, ‘cause I’m honestly too young of a guy
To stay home waiting for love
So tonight, I’m gonna do what a single man does
And that’s party
We were about two inches inside the elevator when Trace forcefully turned me in the direction of my newest focus. “Then let me see you go for it, dude.”
I looked down at him and then across the lobby to the two girls about a hundred feet from me, laughing in the lounge, trying to act like all their attention wasn’t on me. “I don’t know them,” I said incredulously. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“That’s the beauty of it,” he explained.
“What?”
“Who are you more likely to get caught with? Christina Aguilera? Or Jane Doe?”
“Why do you sound like you’ve done this before?” I chuckled.
“Yo, J, are you coming up or what?” Todd asked behind me, holding up his walkie-talkie. “I got Rob on the walkie and he said Brit is on her way over.”
Trace gave me an encouraging eyebrow raise as I turned back to my protectors-slash-homeboys. “Yeah, but could y’all do me a favor?”
“Anything,” Dre replied.
Holding the elevator door with my right hand, I said, “You see those two lil’ mamas over there on the couch?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re gonna come with us,” Trace interjected with a smirk. “So, we’re gonna need a separate car for me and the girls.”
“J?” Todd asked, “What’s up?”
“Hey, you heard the man.” Me and Trace did one of those SNL smiles and headed for the two ladies while Dre ran back outside to talk to our driver. As we got closer to the girls, I got this incredible bundle of nerves shooting through my chest. “Wait,” I stopped him.
“What?”
“What the hell are we doing?”
“We’re gonna see if they wanna come with us.”
“And what if they do?” I asked ignorantly. “What do I do?”
“You do whatever feels right.”
There are two kinds of support systems. There’s one that is very submissive, allowing you to do whatever the hell you want to do, no matter how idiotic it is, letting you make your own foolish mistakes. Then, there’s the kind that’s more aggressive, always telling you everything you don’t wanna hear because they don’t want you to fuck yourself up. One of my biggest problems back then was that my support system, essentially my mom and Trace, were the first kind. They never argued against any of my stupid ass decisions. They let me do my dirt and did their best to wipe it off when it blew up in my face. That night was no different.
I was already annoyed when I heard the typical murmur of the ‘Oh-my-God’ from the two girls before we even approached them, but I went along with the slipshod operation and greeted them nonetheless. “What’s up, y’all?” I asked, sitting down across from them.
“Hey,” Trace followed, staring at the petite blonde one. “How y’all doin’ tonight?”
In response, the other one “ a taller brunette with green eyes “ smiled at the two of us, seeming flustered. “Hi.”
“Hey,” I repeated. “What’s your name?” No point in wasting time.
“I’m Alexis. This is Katie,” she answered, pointing to her friend.
“I’m Justin,” I announced, “and this is my best friend, Trace.” The four of us shook hands, or something close to it, and fidgeted nervously as we glanced around the large lobby, people-watching and ignoring one another.
Finally, Trace decided to break the monotonous silence. “So, we’re heading to a friend’s birthday party. Are y’all up for it?”
Alexis and Katie looked at one another and then at me and Trace. “Are you serious?” Katie asked.
I quickly shot up from the sofa when I saw Britney gliding through the lobby with Felicia, smiling like she’d won the four awards that night. I slightly excused myself from the group, finding my girlfriend’s comfortable side at the elevators before she could even blink. “Hey.”
“Hi!” she cheerfully answered back when she turned around to see me standing in front of her. “I was just on my way up to your room.”
“I thought I’d wait for you in the lobby instead.”
“Aww, did you miss me?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what it was,” I agreed dryly. “How long do you think you’ll be?”
“Uhh...” she looked at Felicia as the elevator rang and the three of us stepped into it, heading for the seventeenth floor. “Where are we going?”
“To Beyonce’s birthday party,” I quipped in a duh tone. “Isn’t that where you wanted to go?”
“Well, I did, but I was talking to Wade and we were talking about“.”
“Stop right there,” I interrupted. “I’m gonna go to Beyonce’s party. You... can do whatever you want.”
“Justin, you’ve been in such a bad mood today. Are you all right?”
I contemplated just breaking it down for her right then and there, but I remembered Trace sitting in the lobby with new opportunity knocking and I decided against it. “I’m great, baby. Whatever you wanna do.”
“Well, if you wanna hang out with the boys at her party, then you go ahead. Me and Felicia and Wade will go to the J-Lo party. Right, Fe?” Felicia nodded in compliance and smiled at me. “It’s all good, baby.”
Yeah, I bet it is. I turned my frown into another one of my notoriously fake smiles, wishing that I had the balls to say what I really thought of this stupid ass plan of hers. The most I could muster was an concurring “Yeah.”
The damage is done, so I guess I’ll be leaving
Beyonce’s 20th birthday bash was nothing short of the Who’s Who that I expected it to be. In fact, minus Britney and the Backstreet Boys, it was basically a continuation of the VMAs. I walked in with Nelly and P. Diddy to my right, JC and Pink to my left and Trace, Alexis and whatever that other girl’s name was at my side. I was ridiculously deep in my ‘Britney who?’ phase of anger, so I was convinced that this night was gonna be the shit and then some. Or... maybe just some shit.
When I noticed the birthday girl walking in my direction, I subconsciously adjusted the collar on my blue checkered shirt, did a quick mouth wipe and smiled when she did, approaching in a white tank top with a tiger on the front and an enticing pair of blue jeans on. “Justin,” she hugged me, “what’s up, baby?”
I kissed her on the cheek and resisted the temptation to let my hands drop to the illustrious bootyliciousness. “Happy birthday, girl. How you doin’?”
“I’m good,” she nodded, quickly acknowledging my three guests before pulling me further into the party. “Britney here?”
“Nah. She’s on the other side of town, but she sends her love.”
She let out a low, sexy chuckle that bordered on sarcastic when she replied, “I hope she sent her gift, too.”
“Hey, I’m here, right?”
We both sounded as if we were close to intoxication as we laughed at my joke that really wasn’t that funny. Coincidentally, she handed me a glass of what appeared to be fruit punch with a presumable kick. “In that case, save me a dance.” Her light brown eyes locked with mine, bringing her request a completely new meaning. “Or whatever.”
She dashed off to enjoy more of her party, leaving me to intermix with the rest of the ego in the room. I spent the night watching Beyonce dance with friends and family, swinging blonde tresses as if they were hers, conversing with the room like a true hostess. That girl was just too fine. And not in just the superficial, exterior manner “ she had a personality that I could get with.
At that point, I was feeling pretty damn good about my miserable self. I really felt like a free man that night, and the only thing to hold me captive was my conscience. Lucky “ or perhaps unlucky “ for me, it was on temporary hiatus. Nothing works better to the advantage of revenge than freeing your inhibitions. And believe me, they were all gone by the time the crowd was standing around eating cake with Beyonce’s face on it.
A song of Usher’s blasted throughout the party and a wasted version of the guest of honor came dancing in literal circles around me with a plate in her hand. “You ready for that dance?”
“I was kinda opting for the ‘Or whatever’ instead.”
In the gorgeous, thick tone that her voice always held, she sang with the song, “I don’t know what you came to do, boy. What you came to do tonight...”
“But I came to party,” I agreed.
I smiled at her body’s motion against mine as she let that Neptune sound send her hips into action. This time, I didn’t resist any urges. My hands obligingly held onto the booty, knowing that that was just a small taste of what was to come because we had a silenced mutual agreement that ‘Or whatever’ was just another way of saying that I was a mere hotel room away from tearin’ that ass up.
“Let’s go party then,” she finally decided, once again pulling me through the crowd of birthday partyers. Moving through the guests, I noticed the unmistakable blonde and brown of Wade’s spiky hair, meaning that Britney was more than likely within the vicinity, but if I can be honest, I truly didn’t give a shit. A few quick goodbyes and we’d taken our separate exits to where we were gonna start a new party. Guest list: two “ Justin and Beyonce.
Your bridges were burned
Now it’s your turn to cry
Later that night, after I’d fucked the hell out of Miss Knowles, as my car took me from The Plaza Hotel back to the Trump Towers, I reflected over what the hell I’d just done and something within me quelled. I dunno whether it was the thrill of getting my revenge or just getting some new ass, but it was exhilarating. I got away with it. So, the new question on my hands is, why stop there?
I hope I’m not moving too fast for you. But we’ve got about four more years to cover and this is only the beginning.
Lyrics:
“Cry Me A River” - Justin Timberlake (Justfied)
“U Don’t Have To Call” - Usher (8701)
Story Tags: daddyj friendsturnedlovers interracial boyfriendj love angryj tourj
