22. Own Up To Your Shit
“Mama, we’re leavin’!”
“Wait!” she called back, trampling down my staircase in her pajamas.
It was Super Bowl Sunday morning and Devin, Cameron, Trace, Elisha and I were heading back to Houston for the big game. At that point, I was really wishing I could’ve stayed there. “Wait for what?” I requested, seeing her enter the foyer.
“I just wanted to kiss you guys goodbye,” she smiled awkwardly, grabbing Devin’s hand. “You have a good time, okay?”
“Mom, what’s wrong?” I asked, finally fed up with her weirdness.
“What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong?’ Nothing’s wrong, baby.”
“You’ve been acting weird since last night.”
“I’m fine, sweetie.”
“Mom.”
“Umm, Justin, we’re gonna go wait in the car,” Cameron politely inserted, leading the path through the front door with Trace and Elisha in tow.
“I’m gonna go, too,” Devin decided, beginning to give my mom a hug. “Lynn, I’ll see you when we get back?”
“Of course, baby.” She smiled sweetly at my girlfriend and squeezed her hand before letting her leave the house with both mine and her small bags. “She’s such a sweetheart.”
“Mom,” I said for the second time, identical tone.
“Justin, I don’t need a lecture or a pep-talk or anything like that. I’m fine; everything’s fine,” she very clearly avoided my stare as she spoke to me, “so go have fun for me.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying!” she adamantly defended. “I’ve just missed you and you know how I get when you leave sometimes.” I gave her a bored look and waited for her to say something substantive. “Can’t you just go, Justin?”
“Are you and Dad fighting again?” I quietly asked. “After nineteen years, it’s common“.”
“No, Justin. We’re just fine.”
“Well what is it?” I pleaded. “Is it menopause?”
“Oh, Lord,” she sighed. “Why don’t we sit down?”
“I don’t want to sit down. I want you to tell me what the hell is wrong with you, ma.”
“It’s nothing, really. I just “ okay...” She took a deep breath and tried to offer me a comforting smile, but pretty much failing miserably because I was going insane with worry at that moment. “Umm... well, while you were gone, Jailyn had an asthma attack,” she finally divulged. “A very small, tiny insignificant one, and she’s perfectly fine now, but it’s just had me a little melancholy, I guess.”
After I regained the breath that had caught in my throat, I kind of just stared through her for a few minutes. With a clenched jaw, I eventually decided to open my mouth. “When was this?”
“It was when you were on your way to Spain.”
“What the f“ Tell me you’re kidding,” I began, trying not to yell.
“I’m sorry. We just didn’t want to get you upset for no reason. I mean, Summer had her medicine right there and took her to the hospital to make sure everything was all right and by the time she even got her there, she was fine.”
“But why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because she was fine, sweetheart. We didn’t want you to worry.”
“It’s my daughter!” I shouted, wiping my angry tears from my face. “I should have the right to fucking worry if I want to!”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“How could you not tell me!”
“All of us just wanted what was best for you, Justin.” She attempted to rub my shoulder but I very callously shrugged her touch away. “You’ve been so happy. No one wanted to take that away from you.”
“So instead, you take away my responsibility.”
“Justin, I really am sorry.”
“Sorry? That’s all you have?” I yelled.
“You’ll find out as time goes on that parenting doesn’t get any easier as you get older. The problems just get bigger, the solutions harder to figure out--.”
“I don’t need your bullshit excuses,” I mumbled, swinging the front door open.
“I make mistakes, just like you do, baby. You can’t hate me for it.”
I sighed in annoyance, knowing that nothing either one of us were bound to say would make me feel better at all. “I have a flight to catch.” Not bothering to look her way, I walked through the door with about a million things on my mind; and not one of them was I prepared to handle.
I traced outside, half sad, half pissed, ready to fly to Virginia to see my baby, but knowing I needed to just get this Super Bowl bullshit out of my fucking way. If I backed out on Janet, I knew I’d never hear the end of it.
“You okay?” Devin asked, watching me approach the black Escalade she stood in front of.
I shook my head and leaned against the car while taking hold of her hand. “Can we drive to the airport alone?”
“If you want to, yeah. Of course.”
“I don’t really feel like being around anyone else,” I explained. “I just wanna talk to you.”
“Well you know I got you, baby.” She opened the back door of the Escalade and grabbed her coat before knocking on Mike’s driver’s side window. “We’re gonna follow y’all to LAX,” she told him authoritatively, once he rolled down his window.
“You sure?” he questioned.
“Yeah. We’re right behind y’all.”
I somberly waved to the tinted windows of the car and tried to smile when Devin squeezed my hand affectionately. “Thanks,” I said lowly.
“Not a problem.” Together, we stalked over to my silver EXT before she ended the silent moment by realizing, “Your mom could probably take us so we don’t have to leave your care there, J.”
“No!” I quickly refused.
“Okay.” She let out a nervous chuckle and threw her purse and coat to the back of the car. “You want me to drive?”
I thought about it and decided that I actually felt like having some control over something. “Nah, I’ll drive.”
Silently, we hopped into the car, headed for the airport. “So what’s up,” she queried after a few seconds of deafening quiet.
“My mom. And Summer.”
“Your mom and Summer what?”
“I was with them all fucking night last night.”
“And you’re mad about that because...”
I could feel her stare burning with question at the side of my face, so I did what I usually do and avoided it. “Because.”
“Because?”
“Because. They had ample opportunity to tell me something and they didn’t.”
“You mean about Jailyn?” she asked, seeming to already know the situation.
“Yes! She had an asthma attack while we were gone and they both “ wait a minute,” I paused in cognizance. “How did you know?”
“Your mom told me yesterday morning,” she answered nonchalantly.
“So why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because she asked me not to.”
“What?” I shouted.
“She said it would ruin your birthday!” she lamely defended. “And after last year, she said she wanted something better for you.”
“Why don’t y’all seem to understand that she’s my daughter? I deserve to know about anything and everything that’s happening with her. No matter what.”
“I understand, J. And I agree, but I just wanted to see you happy for a least a day, so I told your mom I wouldn’t say anything.” In confusion, she watched as I stopped the car in the middle of Cahuenga Boulevard, becoming suddenly overtaken with anger. “Justin, what are you doing?” she demanded.
“Just shut up for a minute.”
“I know you’re upset, but you don’t have to“.”
“Shut the fuck up!” I shouted. I took a huge breath and let my head rest against the top of the steering wheel, letting my thoughts consume me for a while. “Do you know what it’s like to repeatedly have those that you love most constantly letting you down?”
“What?” she chirped.
“Devin, besides my mother, you are probably the person I trust most in this world.”
“Okay. Same goes for me, Justin.”
“But no, both of you betrayed me. And it proves to me, once again, that I can’t trust anyone.”
“Justin, you know that’s not true.”
“No, it really fuckin’ is.”
“That’s not fair. I was trying to help you.”
“Well, you didn’t, Devin! Helping would’ve been ensuring me that I can depend on hearing the truth from you, if no one else; that you’re by my side no matter what, no matter how much it might hurt.”
“That’s exactly what I am, Justin. This is unconditional shit I’m giving you, man.”
“No, you’re there when it’s convenient. When it means you don’t have to do anything but fuck me,” I spat.
Her light eyes widened and I knew I’d hit a nerve. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not joking. Where and when it counts, you don’t give two shits about me.”
“How dare you fix your fuckin’ mouth to say that to me, Justin?”
“Just because you cook me dinner a few times and plan a birthday party doesn’t mean you genuinely care.”
“If I don’t care, then why did you ask me to marry you?”
I took more than a minute to answer and still couldn’t even come up with a somewhat plausible reason. “I honestly don’t know, Devin.”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s fucking bullshit. What’s the real reason, Justin?”
“I don’t know,” I repeated before she shoved me so hard that it shook the car.
“Why did you ask me?”
“Because I was happy and drunk,” I yelled. “Is that what you wanna fucking hear?”
She threw her car door open and glared in my direction with a scowl. “Thank you for your brutal honesty.”
“What are you doing?” I asked loudly, watching her exit from the car.
“Leaving.”
“It’s 7:00 in the morning. Where the hell are you gonna go?”
“My apartment is the next block over. I’ll walk.”
“Devin“.”
“Have fun in Houston.”
“Devin, stop“.” I was cut off by the slam of the door before I watched her cross the street ahead of me and disappeared out of sight. Quickly checking the clock, I headed for the next block and awaited Devin’s arrival. Despite very apparent tears in her eyes, she approached her complex, proudly ignoring me. “Devin!”
“Go to Houston, Justin!”
“Not without you.”
“I don’t want you if you don’t want me,” she shouted, walking past my car.
“I do want you, Devin.”
“Yeah, when you’re drunk,” she scoffed loudly. “Spare me.”
“If you walk in that building, I’m leaving, Devin.”
All she said before she went walking through the door was, “Bye.”
We hadn’t even been engaged a day and I was cursing marriage already. “This is bullshit,” I mumbled to myself as I finally headed for the airport.
I’m torn and I’m tattered
Sick and tired of living my life singin’ the same old song
Oh, I feel a little battered
Looks like I’m living my life runnin’ a one man show
“Dude, are you sure you’re okay,” Cameron asked for about the millionth time since we’d arrived in Texas.
I mean, sure I hadn’t said anything since I got on the plane, and it was more to the effect of a grunt than anything else, but if I said I was fine, I was fine, damn it. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“You look like someone just shot your puppy, though.”
I’m gonna shoot her if she doesn’t shut the fuck up. “I’m fine,” I stated calmly. “I’m just not in a talking mood.”
“Okay.” She began to rub my back which made me tense up even more, but I wasn’t about to tell her that and make her continue to talk. “Are you hungry or anything?”
“No.”
“Thirsty?”
“What part of ‘I’m fine’ do you not fucking understand?”
“Justin, you don’t have to be an asshole. Everyone’s just trying to help you,” Elisha inserted smartly. “Just because you’re mad at your girlfriend doesn’t mean you have to take it out on the rest of the world.”
“I’m not mad at”Just shut up,” I sighed, reconsidering my unthoughtful choice of words. “And mind your goddamn business while you’re at it.”
“Dude, seriously,” Trace piped up. “Chill out.”
“You know, if I’m gettin’ on your damn nerves so much, why don’t you find another ride to the hotel,” I snapped. “Better yet, find your own hotel so I can stop payin’ for y’all’s shit.”
“Justin--.”
“No, don’t ‘Justin’ me. Get over me or get the fuck off me.” It was then that the car stopped suddenly, sending my face crashing into the headrest in front of me. “Eric, what the fuck are you doin’, man?”
“Sorry, J. Some little bitch was whining in my ear and I got distracted.”
“That’s not funny,” I said solemnly.
“It wasn’t a damn joke,” he shot back. “Shut the fuck up or you’re all gonna be walkin’ to the hotel.”
“Fine,” I pouted. But it was typical me that always had to have the last word. “I just hope you know there’s gonna be a pay cut for this,” I added.
Might as well get used to you, end it all like you said you’ll do
‘Cause talk is cheap out on the street, ‘cause people know when there’s heat
“Yo, JT. It’s time to roll out, son!” Cameron yelled into my suite, putting on that fucking annoying ass ghetto-speak that she always seemed to find so amusing. “Hurry up!”
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” I’d spent the last half an hour looking for the white, knit hat that I’d gotten in Colorado and I wasn’t leaving the damn hotel without it. “Yo, can you go downstairs and tell them I’ll be down in a minute?”
“What’s taking so long?” she asked, finally entering the doorway of my bedroom, seeing me rush around the room. “What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for something.”
“Something like what, dude?”
“Like my hat,” I bit back. “Why do you give a damn?”
“Because we’re gonna miss kickoff if you don’t hurry up.”
“You can always like, take a cab or somethin’.” I don’t remember inviting her ass to sit with me in the first fucking place.
“Justin, don’t be rude.”
“Then don’t rush me.”
“Okay,” she demurred. “What does your hat look like?”
“It’s a fucking white beanie. Not much to it.”
She stalked over to the crisply made bed and plopped her long body onto it, looking around the room with her cyan stare. “Did you check all of your bags?”
“Yes,” I answered obviously.
“Did you check your coat’s pockets and sleeves.”
“Yes, Cameron. I checked both my coats’ pockets, sleeves and even the hoods.”
“Okay. Is this by any chance the hat you had on last night?”
“Yes, it is.”
“So then, did you maybe leave it at home?”
“No, I did not leave it at… home.” Or did I?
“Are you sure?”
“I… well no, not really,” I chuckled, probably the first time that day.
“Uh “ is that a smile I see?” she lowered her head and lifted her gaze to inspect my face.
“It’s not a smile,” I negated.
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not.” I tried to avoid grinning, but it really wasn’t working, so I just bowed my head.
She hopped off of the bed and headed for me, beginning to poke playfully at my sides. “Yes, it is. I made you smile, dude!”
“No, you did not,” I laughed, suddenly feeling extremely ticklish. “Stop it!”
“Okay, but seriously,” she sobered up, “do you even need that hat?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Why?” she exclaimed.
“Because.”
“’Because’ is not a reason, buddy.” She whipped her hair out of its messy ponytail and zipped her sweater up to her neck. “Plus, we’re all ready to go.”
“So then go. Don’t let me stop y’all.”
“You have to come, too,” she whined, grabbing my arm to try and pull me out of the room. “Come on, JT.”
“Five minutes,” I requested. “If I don’t find it in five minutes, we can go.”
“Aight.” There she goes with the fake thug girl routine again. “I could do dat,” she added, letting go of my arm.
“Knock, knock.” We both turned to the bedroom portal to see Devin staring back at us with a curious, expectant glance towards us. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Cameron jumped back. “No, I was just about to head downstairs and wait for Justin.”
I rolled my eyes at Devin’s new presence and kept my head turned towards the bathroom as Cameron disappeared out of the room. “What are you doing here,” I finally decided to ask.
“I wanted to apologize,” she answered quietly, beginning to walk towards me. “I’m sorry for not telling you.”
“It’s a little too late for that.”
“Why?”
“Because not only did you keep secrets and shit, but you left me this morning. Just hanging high and dry.”
“I’m sorry for that, too.”
“I’m sure,” I scoffed.
“Listen, you put me through some shit, too, Justin. You just proposed because you were ‘happy and drunk’? Isn’t that what you said?” she began to yell. “Where’s the love in that shit?”
“You asked and I answered.”
“So that’s the real deal?”
“That’s it,” I shrugged. “Sorry.”
“You really can be an asshole when you set your mind to it,” she snapped.
“Yeah, well…”
“Seriously, dude, what’s your problem? You can’t seriously be this mad because I didn’t tell you about Jai.”
“Don’t you dare stand there and try to belittle my frustration because my daughter isn’t important enough to you for you to tell me what’s going on.”
“Justin!”
“’Justin’ what?”
“Dude, if you’re trying to hurt me, you’ve done it. You can stop now.”
“I’m just saying what I should’ve said eight hours ago.”
“You really think I don’t care about you? About your daughter?” she shrieked. “I love Jailyn as much as I’d love my own daughter!”
“Then I feel sorry for your child,” I quipped.
“I can’t believe you’d say something like that.”
“Yeah well, I couldn’t believe you’d lie to me like whatever, but shit happens.”
She ran a quick hand through her wild curls and just glared at me. From the redness of her face, I could tell she’d been crying for quite a while. She was hurt, yes, but I couldn’t care. She had already hurt me inexcusably by not telling me what I deserved to know. “I know you’re upset and irrational right now,” she calmly began, “but you need to know that I’m not always gonna be here for you to take out your bullshit on me.”
“Fuck you,” I scoffed again.
“You are, Justin.”
“I’m leaving.” I grabbed my coat from a random, awaiting chair and tried to storm out of the door, but her words stopped me.
“If this is your way of saying you don’t wanna be engaged, then fine.”
“What?”
“If you’re being a bitch so I’ll say I don’t wanna get married, then you win. We can pretend like you never proposed “ just like we’ve been doing all day.”
“When did I say that, Devin?”
“Your actions have said it since you asked me, dude. You’ve been cold, remote, distant, rude. Now you’re calling me names and making off-the-wall accusations that you can’t possibly, truly think of me… unless of course you don’t really love me like you’ve been saying for so damn long; in which case, I don’t think we should be together at all,” she continued, staring intently through me. “But I don’t believe that you don’t love me, so I can only chalk it up to the fact that you really were drunk and overly-happy last night and you got ahead of yourself. And now that you’re realizing what it all actually means, you’re pushing me away because you think I’m attached to the idea of marrying you and you don’t know how to say it with words, so you’d rather be a dick and hope that I’ll back out first.”
“I--.”
“But I’m gonna tell you right now,” she interrupted me, “if you don’t wanna marry me, you’re gonna have to say it to me. I don’t read minds, Justin. So even if my psychoanalysis is correct, I’m not using it to go running in the opposite direction. And above all, I just think I deserve to hear at least that much out of your mouth after all the things you should’ve said over the past few months that you weaseled your way out of. This, you’re gonna have to handle like a man.”
“Or what? You’re gonna slap me again?” I sarcastically questioned.
“No,” she sighed. “And I’m still sorry for that.”
“Whatever.”
“Listen, I don’t want to be the typical celebrity girlfriend or wife or whatever, who’s being embarrassed behind her back by the fact that her man is notorious for cheating on her while she quote-unquote ‘allows’ it. Just be honest with me, okay?”
“Devin, I have not lied to you once since we’ve been together,” I emphatically inserted. Yes, it’s true.
“I know you haven’t,” she nodded, “and I don’t want this proposal to be the start of it. Or the end of us.”
“Neither do I,” I nodded with raised eyebrows.
“So here’s your chance to take it back. Speak now or forever hold your peace, J.”
I bowed my head, knowing that I needed to do it, but unwilling to say it. Even as often as I do it, I can’t stand to break a woman’s heart. Deliberately, I mean. So instead, I looked at my watch “ the one that she gave me “ and pretended that time was rushing me out of this conversation. “I have to go, Devin.”
“Don’t do this to me, Justin.”
“Don’t do what? I have to get to the fucking stadium.”
She chuckled a little maliciously and rolled her eyes back towards me. “You’re never gonna own up to your shit, are you?”
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about now?”
“I wonder if there will ever come a day that you’ll be able to admit your mistakes instead of trying to make the world feel sorry for the stupid shit you do,” she prodded. “I mean, I’m giving you the perfect opportunity to just get it out in the open and you’d rather wait a month and break my heart then. You’d rather wait until you’re just completely fucked up than to right this minor, insignificant wrong before it’s too late.”
“Well, what if I really do wanna marry you, Devin? Then what? Then where’s the mistake?”
“But you don’t, Justin. Why can’t you let yourself say you were wrong and take it back?”
“Because I don’t fucking want to!”
“Well then you win again, because I’m rescinding my answer.”
“W--.”
“I don’t want to marry you. Sorry I said ‘Yes’, but I was just drunk and happy.”
“But you weren’t even drunk last night, Devin.”
“Fine,” she shrugged, throwing my white hat to the bed across from us. “I just changed my mind.”
Her icy stare challenged me to say something more, but I think we both knew that this was a battle I’d lost. She was right, I was wrong. Again. There was nothing more to do but leave… so I did. “Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”
I’m torn and I’m tattered
Sick and tired of living my life singin’ the same old song
I’m bruised and I’m battered
Looks like I’m living my life runnin’ a one man show
I don’t know where the feelings gone
I’ll survive, I’ll stay alive, I’m gonna carry on
You should really feel privileged right about now, because I hate reliving the next few moments “ weeks, actually. But just so the ugly truth can finally be put out in the open, in spite of all that may have been said or done afterwards, this is what really happened.
“Yo, J. It’s time to get movin’, homeboy.” It was P. Diddy.
With the exception of Janet, basically the entire slue of halftime performers had been seated in the VIP section of Reliant Stadium, drinking and really enjoying a good ass game. Until then. “It’s time to go already?” I put down my beer on the table beside me and glanced at the clock that said halftime was a mere ten minutes away. “Damn.”
“Good luck, man,” Trace drunkenly offered, throwing me the thumbs up.
“Yeah, kick ass out there,” Cameron added, removing herself from the position she’d taken in my lap. “And try to have fun.”
“Yeah right,” I smirked. She gave me an encouraging slap on the ass as I followed Sean, Nelly and Jessica Simpson through the crowds, between an assload of security to where the stadium’s locker rooms were located.
Got time, but I don’t mind
“Hey, baby,” Janet greeted me pleasantly backstage, moving in for a hug. “How are you?”
Tired. Pissed. Frustrated. “I’m good,” I nodded.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You remember how everything goes, right?”
“I think I got it,” I smiled. “...Unless you made changes I don’t know about.”
“Nope, we’re still doing the tit-drop,” she chuckled.
I tried to laugh with her, but it came out sounding like I was more in pain than amusement, I’m sure. “They should get a kick out of this,” I dryly commented, just hoping that at the end of the night everything would still be... okay.
No disrespect, I don’t mean no harm
But I can’t wait to have you in my arms
Hurry up, ‘cause you’re taking too long
Bet I’ll have you nekkid by the end of this song
The end of the show (unfortunately) went off without a hitch. And the chaos began.
After offering Janet my jacket, the two of us shuffled off the stage and headed back inside where a media onslaught had already been put into action. I really just wanted to get back to my seat and drink the night to a close, but apparently, people had other plans for me.
First motherfucker in my face was that damn Pat O’Brien. “Justin, can we talk to you really quickly?”
I looked around for my security, finding Mike straggling behind in the throngs of people that had just come in from outside. “Yeah, sure,” I faked a smile. “What’s up, dude?” I watched a stage manager yell at all other television crews to back the fuck up while Pat, as well as Nancy O’Dell, approached me.
“You okay?” he asked before he began.
“Yeah man, I’m good,” I lied, kissing Nancy’s cheek.
“So what was it like?”
“That was fun,” I replied rather enthusiastically. “It was quick, slick... to the point.”
“You guys were gettin’ pretty hot and steamy up there,” he commented.
And I answer that how? “Hey, man... We love givin’ y’all somethin to talk about.”
“So are you“.”
“Yo, J,” Eric finally inserted, walking up to the two of us to save the day, “it’s time to go.”
“Sorry,” I shrugged to Pat, trying to ignore the fact that cameras were beginning to surround us left and right.
“Wait, Justin, just“.”
“I gotta go,” I insisted, following Eric through the crowds to go back to my seat.
“This shit is crazy,” he noted, leading me beyond the catcalls of the crowd.
“It’s insane,” I agreed.
“What idiot made that decision, anyway?”
“What? You mean the flashing thing?”
“Yeah, man.”
“Well it wasn’t me,” I chuckled tiredly, my eyes scanning VIP for the group I’d been sitting amongst. “I just did what she asked.”
“The story of your life, ain’t it?”
“Hell yeah.”
“I know I told you, don’t let no women get you in trouble, J. I guarantee you, not one of them is worth it.”
“I know,” I nodded, finally spotting my seat. “I’ll be okay.”
“‘Cause I’m just lookin’ out for you,” he continued. “But you gotta watch your own back.”
“Thanks, Eric. I think I got it.” I escaped his fatherly stare and moved down the aisle to where Trace, Elisha and Cameron sat, harboring the same smiles they had when I left. “What y’all lookin’ at me like that for?”
“Like what?” Trace chuckled.
“Like y’all are about to take a bite out of me.”
“Great show, dude.” Cameron outstretched her arms, willing me to take the open seat beside her. “Are you okay?”
“For the moment,” I decided, sitting down so that she could take the original position she held, sitting in my lap. “Can somebody get me a beer?”
“Yeah,” Elisha interjected, “you can.”
“Fuck you,” I mumbled to her, annoyed with her constant need to bring her smart-ass bullshit into every conversation.
“And while you’re out there, how about you learn some manners.”
“How about you shut the fuck up,” I snapped.
“Justin,” Trace barked at me.
“What!”
“You don’t have to be rude, man.”
“Tell that shit to her.”
“Fuck you, dude. She was kidding.”
“Man, if you don’t take that pussy-whipped bullshit somewhere,” I shot back, gratefully accepting the bottle of Bud that Cameron had been drinking from. “She started it.”
“No, actually you started it with your fucked up attitude this morning,” Elisha piped up. “And we’re all sick of you.”
“Well, there’s a very simple solution to your problem,” I told her coldly. "You don't have to be here, you know.”
"Fine."
"Fine what?" Trace asked his girlfriend, watching her angrily rise from her seat.
"Fine, I'm leaving. You comin'?"
"Elisha, you guys don't have to leave," Cameron jumped in positively. "We can all just get along, can't we?"
"No," me and Elisha rebutted simultaneously. At least we can agree on something.
"Guys."
"Let 'em go if they wanna go," I obstinately added. "Fuck it."
"Justin," Cameron scolded me.
"Nah, it's cool," Trace decided. "We'll talk to you later, dude.” He grabbed he and Elisha's coats and helped her towards the exit. "And Justin, whatever it is, get over it, man."
I rolled my eyes in his direction and made it a point not to say anything as I took another swig of beer. "Is it just me, or is everybody full of shit today?" I asked Cameron eventually.
"Dude, are you sure that you're okay?"
"I won't be if another fucking person asks me that fucking question."
"Okay, sorry." She turned around on my lap so that her back was facing me and put her attention back on the game.
Meanwhile, my eyes managed to scan everything but the happenings on the field. I did a survey of the whole damn stadium, my mind wandering into wondering if my girlfriend had decided to attend the game but completely ignore me. Not that I'd blame her. I'd still be kinda sorta pissed about it, though. I wondered where Trace and Elisha had scampered off to. I wondered how Jailyn was doing “ I couldn't wait to see her the next day. I wondered how the hell it ended up that the happiest day of my life was followed by such a miserable twist of events where I'd ended up being literally under Cameron's administration with no one else surrounding me.
“What are you thinkin’ about?” she interrupted my serene thoughts.
“Stuff,” I shrugged.”
“Like what?” She turned on my lap so that we were completely facing each other and leaned into my face. “Talk, dude.”
“I have nothin’ to say.”
“Think of somethin’.”
“I got nothin’,” I maintained.
“Fine,” she rebutted. Without asking, or apparently even thinking, she took a dive for my lips, initiating a potentially harmful kiss in the wake of everything else going on, and one that I couldn’t bring myself to pull away from without interruption.
"Excuse me," I mumbled into her mouth, initiating her move from my lap when my cell phone began to vibrate.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"Move."
"Oh. Sorry," she guffawed, finally moving to her own seat.
I hurriedly grabbed my phone from my pocket and answered it before even checking the caller ID. It wasn't Devin's ring, but I was hoping she was calling from a hotel or something. "Hello?"
"Justin."
"Yeah?" It was Johnny.
"I need you to do me a favor."
"Okay."
"And you have to do it immediately."
"You do know I'm at a football game, right?"
"Everybody knows you're at a football game," he responded, "which is why I'm calling. - You're about to be in some deep shit."
"Me? What the fuck did I do now?"
"You just stripped Janet Jackson on national television! Network national television, mind you."
"Okay." I said again. "And?"
"Justin, they're talking about arresting you two for indecent exposure."
"What?" I chirped. "You're kidding."
"No, I'm not. Which is where the favor comes in."
"Well, what is it?"
"I'm about to set up a mini-press conference right in the locker room for you. Just explain yourselves, and try to smooth things over as quickly as possible."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean apologize."
"Okay," I nodded to myself. "Just say that I'm sorry it happened and it'll be okay?"
"Well, I can't go so far as to say that, but it will be a step in the right direction."
"All right." I looked over to Cameron, who was totally oblivious, and then dropped my eyes to the field. It was already fourth quarter, so I knew I didn't have much time to find Janet and then get to this 'press conference', so I rushed out of the call. "I'll see what I can do, Johnny."
"That's all I ask. Good luck. And--."
"Yeah." Nervously, I flipped my phone closed, seeing that I'd somehow missed about fourteen calls before shooting up from my seat, looking for Eric at the end of our row.
"What's up, JT?" Cameron asked, staring up at me.
"I gotta go."
"Go? Where the hell are you going?"
"I have a press conference inside and then I think I'm just gonna head on back to the hotel," I sighed.
"Wait. Why?"
"Because I don't feel like being out anymore. I just wanna get outta here and sleep until I can get on a flight home."
"Well, all right," she relented, "let's go."
"Where are you going?" I demanded.
"With you, of course," she chuckled. "You're in trouble, aren't you?"
"What makes you think that?"
"Because you said you had to say sorry and it'll be okay," she recalled. I guess she wasn't so oblivious after all. "I'm here for you, dude."
"Okay. Cool." With that, I grabbed her hand and followed my bodyguards as they led us out of our seats to head for the inside of the stadium.
Riding the rodeo, up and down we go
Where we’ll end up, I just don’t know
Like a rodeo, down we go
I think I would've been better off letting people make their own assumptions. The press conference was pure chaos. I've never done anything like this alone and I never want to again. And it's not even like it was that many people - mainly just local Houston media, but the questions “ they were being pelted at me left and right, to the point where I couldn't even breathe through the flames they were spitting at me.
"Was this a publicity stunt on you and Ms. Jackson's part?"
"Well-," I tried to start.
"Justin, when you planned this stunt, did the two of you not think of the consequences of your actions?"
"I--."
"Are you aware that CBS has denied all connection with your actions this evening?"
"Um--."
"Mr. Timberlake, when did the two of you make the decision to change the show's outcome?"
"What?" I asked, dumfounded.
"CBS has said, officially, that during the week's rehearsals, there was no indication that anything like this would happen and that you must've secretly changed it at some point before going on stage."
I looked around the small, stuffy room, completely baffled. Not only couldn't I breathe, but I could hardly even comprehend the words they were saying. If you've ever watched a foreign film without subtitles, then you might have an idea of what I mean. It just felt like the questions were suffocating me because I didn't even know what the hell they were.
"Mr. Timberlake?"
I shook out of my rattled state and tried to concentrate on my audience. "What?"
"Do you have an answer?"
Thank God there were no cameras in the room. "No."
"No?"
I apprehensively moved from my seat, and turned to Eric who stood off to my right, probably waiting for me to bolt for the nearest exit. I wanted to. I really wanted to, but I did what I do best in the face of adversity. I lied. "I'm sorry if anyone was offended by the wardrobe malfunction during the halftime performance at the Super Bowl. It was not intentional and is regrettable." Well it wasn't a total lie - I didn't intend to offend anyone. And I damn sure regret that shit now. "That's all."
Who’s gonna love you when it all falls down?
Who’s gonna love you when your bank roll runs out?
Who’s gonna care when the novelty’s over?
When the star of the show isn’t you anymore
Nobody cares when the tears of a clown fall down
I woke up the next morning on the couch of my suite’s living room, headache pounding, cell phone blaring through my consciousness. Once the noise stopped, I managed to see through blurry vision that I’d somehow missed another thirty-two calls between then and the previous night, and my headache seemed to intensify by a hundred. “Leave me alone,” I mumbled into a shout.
“Justin?” I heard from the bedroom.
“Devin?” I piped up.
“No...” Behind the response traced Cameron into the living room, decked out in the same ensemble she’d worn to the game, accentuated by a disarray of blonde hair swirled around her head. “She got her own room.”
“Oh.” I stopped looking up at her and let my head fall back against the sofa seat.
“Are you gonna tell her about last night?” she asked, taking a seat at the end of the couch, over my unwitting feet.
“I would think she’d be fully aware of everything that happened last night, as well as the rest of the world,” I yawned.
“Not that,” she giggled. “Our kiss.”
“Whose kiss?”
“You and me’s kiss, of course.”
“What are you talking about now, Cameron?”
“Nevermind,” she sighed, rubbing my calf through my jeans. “So, what time do we get out of here?”
“I get out of here at 12:00,” I answered curtly. “I wasn’t aware that you were included in that.”
“Justin, don’t be“.”
Glad that my cell’s ring went erupting into her sentence, I told her, “Excuse me,” as I pulled my phone from under my face. “Hello?”
“Hey... you busy?” a spangly voice greeted me on the other end. “It’s Janet.”
“I know,” I tried to smile, but hearing her name just gave me a bigger headache. “No, I’m not busy.”
“Great. Can we... umm, are you alone?”
“Yeah,” I lied, ignoring the fact that Cameron was less than two feet away. “What can I do for you?”
“That statement you made last night “ I need you to retract it,” she awkwardly chuckled.
“Why?”
“Because it’s a lie,” she shot back.
“And?”
“And just to clear the air, I’d rather tell the truth.”
“Well, you should’ve done the press conference then.”
“I understand it was stressful, but I’m not asking a lot of you...”
“You’ve asked a lot of me already,” I quipped. “I think we’re about even on the favors now.”
But I guess you wouldn’t know, that’s the way I roll
Consequently now, your ego’s fully overblown
“Then don’t think of it as a favor. Think of it as you fucking up and fixing your mistake,” she replied, still finding a way to sound sweet as apple pie. “I don’t need to start my year with bullshit on my record.”
“I think it’s a little too late for that.” I pulled my legs from under Cameron and shifted into a sitting up position on the couch, staring at the hotel room’s door. “I fucked up when I agreed to do this and I already fixed it by issuing my statement. So you can either go with it or do your own thing.”
“You asshole,” she yelled. “If the FCC finds out that it wasn’t accidental, we’re all in trouble, Justin.”
“Maybe you should’ve warned me of that before the day after the shit happened.”
“You have to be kidding,” she muttered in disbelief.
“It’s really not my problem anymore,” I sighed. “Sorry.”
“Sorry is only the half of it,” she chided before hanging up the phone.
You don’t want the world to know that you’re just a puppet show
And the little boy inside often sits at home alone and cries, cries, cries, cries
Okay, so I think it’s fair to say that I completely fucked up. That would be stating the obvious. But it’s truly amazing to see how other people have acted in the face of adversity. This industry is just shady. It would be hypocritical of me to berate them when I’ve treated those closest to me as if they were mere peons, but this whole situation boils down to the fact that this whole industry is shady as hell.
Five days later, after I’d begged my way into staying on the Grammy bill, I’d been officially overwhelmed in frustration, disdain, and anguish from the entire week. I’d watched my character be completely lambasted as if I were some kind of pervert while Janet continued to victimize herself, letting CBS and MTV off the hook and acted like I’m the one that pulled just a little too hard.
No, I shouldn’t have lied on Sunday, but we’re not equipped with celebrity handbooks on how to handle disastrous situations. I did the only thing I’ve ever known how to do when I got in trouble. And I couldn’t exactly just take it back. I could, however, try and clean up the mess for me, if no one else. It wasn’t like anybody was watching my damn back.
By that Friday, I was estranged from more than just my mom, Devin, Trace and Elisha. Besides Cameron, I hadn’t talked to anyone for more than five minutes in the past three days. But that wasn’t completely and totally my fault. In fact, forget the show business industry “ people in general are shady. It only solidified my belief that the only person you can depend on in life is yourself.
Your pain’s so deep-rooted
What will your life become?
Sure you hide it but you’re lost and lonesome
Still just a frail shook one
Okay, I’ll admit it. In spite of all I’d tried to do to keep up the facade, even I was beginning to see the intricateness of my imperfections. I got my two months of happiness and now it was back to the misery that was my real life.
Tell me who’s gonna love you, I’d like to know
If you didn’t have nothing
Who will be there?
Nobody, nobody, nobody, oh nobody baby
Still, I went on with my interview to ET, blaming Janet for what we did, trying to displace any and all negative feelings towards me by indiscreetly victimizing myself, by fucking away any of the little pride I had left to grovel at America’s feet, asking for forgiveness by being too pussy to even say the words. Well, I had nothing else left, so what did it matter, right?
Bullies in the schoolyard, when the fall they fall hard
Yeah, so you better think twice, better play nice
Cause who’s gonna be there when the joke’s on you
A marionette show, who’s makin’ you move though?
If only it were that simple, though.
I know it kills you slowly
I’ll keep your little secret though
And you know that I know you’re no superhero
In the end, this was just the beginning.
I guess your mama never told you what goes around comes back around
Lyrics:
“Torn & Tattered” - Joss Stone (Mind, Body & Soul)
“Rock Your Body” - Justin Timberlake (Justified)
“Clown” - Mariah Carey (Charmbracelet)
Story Tags: daddyj friendsturnedlovers interracial boyfriendj love angryj tourj
