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"I've never seen you look so terrible in the morning."
"Thanks 'ris."
"I'm serious. Are you sure you're
ok?"
Justin looked at his stylist, with a tired expression. "I'm sure." He muttered. "Where the hell is Trace? I don't
even know what's going on today."
"He's on a conference call with the people from that charity." Marissa nodded, dabbing
her brush with more foundation. "You know, you're meeting with them today."
Justin gasped. "Today? What the hell...Trace
told me next week. I had till next week!" He rose up out of the chair, and began to pace the room nervously.
She sighed.
"Would you sit down. I haven't finished yet, you look like a fool." She stepped foward and pulled him back to the chair.
He
reluctantly sat back down. There was no way Dru was ready for this, he had barely touched base with her. Last night had been
a breakthrough, but a small one. Yes, she could probably talk to him now...but there was no way she was going to be able to
talk to a bunch of executives from the charity.. and his record label label...and Johnny...and his Mother...and the press...
"I
don't know what you're so worried about Jus'. That girl that you have is fine." Marissa nodded. She studied him for a moment,
and then pulled out her electric razor. "You need a buzz."
He rubbed his hand across the top of his head. "Maybe I'll
grow it out again."
"No." She shook her head vigorously. "You look good this way." She flipped on the razor, and commenced
with her work.
He waited until she was finished before speaking again. "I need to reschedule."
"Are you nuts!"
Marissa gasped.
He laughed. "Yes."
"I didn't get up at six in the morning to get you ready for nothing Timberlake."
She muttered. "You're going...today." She handed him a mirror. "Tell me if you want a closer buzz."
He barely glanced
at his reflection, knowing that he probably looked as sick as a dog. "It's fine." He grumbled.
"Did you get your coffee
this morning?"
He looked at her, as if she were insane. "Would I be here if I hadn't?"
"No." She laughed. "Stupid
question."
"You know...Dru isn't ready for this." He admitted. "I don't know..."
"I said that YOU were meeting
with the charity today. I never said anything about her." She smiled, knowing she had just lifted some weight off of his shoulders.
He
half smiled. "Just me?"
She nodded.
He breathed out a relieved sigh. "There is a God."
"But..."
"I
knew it." He groaned. "There's always a f *cking catch."
She chuckled. "Your Mom wants to meet her today. She called
me last night."
"And you said it was all right!" He snapped. "Maris' I thought you were smarter than that. There's
no way that..."
"Justin," she interrupted. "The girl is a charity case, I'm sure she's used to meeting people."
He
was silent. There were three people in this world he had trouble lying to. His Mother, Trace...and Marissa. He figured Marissa
had a right to know the story, seeing as how she was working so hard to get Dru looking like a person. He knew he could trust
her. She knew everything else anyway...what was one more dirty little secret? "She's not a charity case." He admitted finally.
Her
eyes widened. "What?"
"She's not from the charity. I...I sort of found her."
"You what!" She exclaimed. "Timberlake...you
better start talking!"
"Maris' don't be mad."
Don't be mad. How many times had he said that phrase to her? Too
many. The guy was a natural screw up. A screw up with enough money to cover it up. She sighed. "What's the deal J. What do
I have to do this time?"
He smiled, knowing that she, once again, was on his side. He wondered...why hadn't he ever
asked her out? It was something he would definitely be considering from this point on, that was for sure. "Remember the day
that Trace was raving about the "scumbag that I let go"?"
She nodded.
"Well...Dru is the scumbag that I let
go."
"You're harboring some girl off the street!" She moaned. "Justin...do you have any idea how much of a risk you're
taking?"
He shook his head. "It's not a risk Mar'. I...I can trust her. She's a good person. She's just had some bad
luck is all."
She put her hands on her hips. "Justin...she's from the street. For all you know, she could be some murdering
psychopath. She could take you for all you have, she..."
"Mar'." He whispered. "Please trust me on this."
It
was that look again. She remembered that look, that tone he had used. It was the same one he had used when he had told her
about Britney. About how she was cheating on him, and how he knew. About how they were staying together, so the press wouldn't
have a field day. That had lasted for two years. Two years of being with her, remaining faithful to her, letting her have
her way with him. The anger began to boil inside of her...
"You believe me." He got out finally. Another moment of
silence passed. "Like before."
"I do." Her voice was barely audible. She wiped a tear off of her cheek. "Trace knows?"
He
nodded. "But my Mother has no clue 'ris. And...she can't know."
"I'll do it Jus'." She tried to smile, but failed miserably.
"She'll be ready for your Mom...and the rest."
He bared a greatful expression. "You're the best."
"I saw her
the other day."
He nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about. "Dru told me."
"Just as perky as ever.
The little b *tch." Marissa grumbled.
He shook his head. "She's gone 'ris. She can't hurt me anymore."
"We have
to finish." She said quickly, not wanting to get too emotional so early in the morning. "Sit up."
He straighted himself.
A smile crept across his face. He wondered, if he told her just why it was that he looked so terrible, would she keep quiet?
"Mar'."
"Hmm."
"What
if I was ever sick?"
She looked at him awkwardly. "What?"
"Would you tell?"
"You're nuts." She nodded.
"Answer
me." He responded playfully.
"Would I tell?" She asked him as she brushed more makeup onto his face. "Tell who?"
"You
know...like Trace."
"How sick?" She questioned him, not really thinking about the conversation. It was small talk,
just something that Justin had decided to ramble about. She was used to his randomness. She had dealt with it for nearly five
years now.
"You know..." He paused and raised his eyebrows, "Like...sick sick."
"Why wouldn't I tell Trace?
No wait, if you were like...sick, why wouldn't you just go to the doctors?"
He frowned. "I dunno."
He couldn't
tell her.
Back to the drawing board.
***********************
It smelled disgusting.
Dru pushed Justin's
bottle of medicine away from her. She didn't understand how something that smelled so terrible could make somebody feel better.
But, it had gotten Justin to go to sleep. She shrugged. What did she know anyway? All she had done was walk to the store with
him in the middle of the night. It had been very awkward. He had been so nervous. He was constantly looking over his shoulder,
and had kept his hood pulled down over his eyes. She hadn't understood. Was this what it was like to be famous? Always scared,
always nervous?
"...he could buy enough Bentley's to circle the world five times..."
Dru glanced at the TV.
The British sounding host was rambling on about how rich Justin was. She was amazed. With all the pain and suffering that
was going on in the world, she couldn't believe that people actually entertained themselves by watching a show about how Justin
could spend his fortune. Digusted, she flicked off the tv with the remote. She had finally come to understand how it functioned,
but she wasn't thrilled. TV wasn't very exciting. It was just a bunch of people, talking about how fabulous these rich and
famous people lived. Why did they care? They were just people. People that had too much, if you asked her.
She reverted
her gaze to the other side of the bed. The imprint of Justin's figure was still visible. He had left almost an hour ago, only
because he had "stuff to do" as he had put it. She was amazed she had agreed to let him sleep in her bed with her. Of course
though, she had made sure that he wasn't able to touch her at all. Nevertheless, it was a gigantic step for her. The last
time she had slept in the same bed with somebody, was when she had been...about thirteen. She shuddered. Thank God that this
experience had been nothing like her past.
Justin was sick. As sick as a dog. After they had gotten back to the room,
he had gone into the bathroom. The sounds that had followed had been gruesome. It scared her. She had wanted to cry out, to
ask for help. But knew it would have only made things worse. When he had finally emerged, he had looked like somebody who
had just awoken from the dead. He had barely uttered the question of spending the night, before she had covered him up and
poured his medicine into a cup for him. It had actually felt comforting, having him sleeping beside her. She felt almost,
protected. As if as long as he were there, none of the demons she had dealt with for so long could ever come back to haunt
her.
To be honest, when he had said he was leaving, she had almost wanted to beg him not to go, and now, while she
layed here, she could hardly wait until she saw him again. He was...her savior almost. She felt warm and safe when he was
around, and only when he was around. His smile, could wash away any fears that were burdening her. The soft tone he always
used with her, wisked her away to another world, where pain was an unknown feeling.
She...would do anything to keep
him close to her. Like a child would do anything to keep their most prized toy protected from any evil doing.
Wanting
to see that smile again, she flipped the television back on.
She smiled.
Beautiful.
Beautiful Justin.
**************
"They're
going to be curious Justin." Trace bit his thumbnail nervously. "They're going to want to know why you didn't choose from
one of their candidates."
"I'll just them 'em that I thought this girl needed more help than anybody that I had met
with." He nodded. "Don't worry T-man. It's under control."
"Don't worry he says." Trace laughed. "He picks up a girl
from the street and tells me not to worry."
Justin gulped down the last of his ornage juice. "You worry too much."
"You
f *ck up too much." Trace replied smartly.
"That was rude." He nodded. "I've done more good than bad."
"Sure."
Trace shrugged. "You're the boss right? I'm just along for the ride."
"You know, sometimes I feel like we're married."
Justin chuckled. "I'm the hard working husband, and you're the nagging wife. All we need now is a couple of kids and a mini
van..."
"Do you know how disgusting you are?" Trace interrupted. "J...just don't talk anymore ok?"
Before Justin
could come up with another smart comment, the door opened, and the bubbly woman they had met when they had first entered the
building stuck her head out the door. "Gentleman, we're ready for you."
The two men rose in unison. One looked professionally
nervous, the other hummed to himself happily.
***********
"Meet Dru." Justin smiled, sliding the portfolio Trace had
prepared across the table.
Charles Larson, CEO for Hand in Hand for Humanity opened the folder. He hadn't been in a
good mood to begin with. He had several promising candidates lined up for Justin Timberlake's project, and now they had been
turned away. Needless to say, he was pissed. What did this girl have that the other's didn't? All of his candidates had been
very young, and very needy. Some had been relying on this chance. It was just wrong. He hated celebrities. "She doesn't look
very needy." He grumbled. "Seems like she's just fine."
Trace let out a nervous laugh and buried his face in his hands.
Justin
cleared his throat. "Sir," he began, flashing his perfect smile.
The three other female committee members swooned.
"I
can assure you, this girl is in more in need than anybody that I've met." He said charmingly, winking at the women.
Charles
passed the folder to the next member of the committee. "This charity isn't a joke Mr. Timberlake. Our mission is to help young
people in need, not to help celebrities get extra publicity."
"I can assure you, sir, obtaining extra publicity is
not my reason for doing this." He nodded.
"She seems very promising." The chubby lady on the end smiled. She looked
at the other two women for their thoughts.
"I agree." The next woman nodded, gazing at Dru's picture. "Very promising."
"We
will need to meet her." The woman who had originally greeted them nodded.
Trace picked his head up. This was bad.
Terrible.
Justin smiled. "You can count on it."
"Tomorrow." Charles said seriously.
Justin thought he
had been nervous before, but now, he was terrified. But, used to dealing with intense situations, he remained calm. "Tomorrow."
He nodded. "We'll be here."
"No." Charles shook his head, an amused smile spread across his face. "She'll be here tomorrow.
Without you."
Trace whimpered.
Justin swallowed hard. "Without me." He responded, trying to hide the tremble
in his voice.
"With that..." Charles huffed, pulling out a pamphlet. "Let's get down to business. This is her contract.
Tonight, you'll need to have her read and sign it." He slid the thick packet of paper across the table. "It's very important
Justin."
Justin nodded. "Read and signed...no problem."
Charles reverted his gaze over to Trace. "I trust you
will make sure that it gets done."
Trace nodded. "Certainly."
"I can do it." Justin seethed. "I don't need somebody
to do it for me."
The committee nodded in unison.
"This is your contract, Mr. Timberlake." The woman seated
beside Charles said, sliding another thick packet in front of Justin.
"You will see..." Charles began, flipping ahead
in his copy a few pages. "Page five states the financial royalites that Dru will receive from this."
Justin eyes widened.
There were alot of zeros next to that three. "That's a ton of money."
Charles smiled. "You understand, that you will
be paying her with your own money."
He shrugged. "It's a tax write..."
Trace stopped his friends speech by
stomping on his foot. "He understands."
Charles didn't smile.
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