Britney�s arm hung around Justin�s as if she was a two-year-old in fear of getting lost in the crowd at the circus. I looked around. This was definitely ten times worse than the circus. The taste of disgust filled my mouth quickly, clandestinely filtering in through my saliva glands like a fog on a chilling January morning. Her fingers clasped tightly to his, maintaining a death grip that would take the jaws of the devil himself to tear apart. She was so clingy, it made her shirt appear loose.

He threw a quick glance my way, his expression slathered with pleading desperation, and all i could do was turn my back and play with my newly pierced naval. You would have thought that stupid silver ball was the most amazing thing in the world had you seen me standing in the middle of a crowded room, staring at it with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. As soon as the sensation of his icy eyes on my neck disappeared, I turned back around. To everyone else, I was simply another fan, watching the show.

Her fingers tickled the nape of his neck. The first thought that popped its way into my congested mind was something along the lines of "oh, HELL no". My legs fought the urge to march over to the pair like an angry drill sergeant and spit in her face, making my worth known to the world. My eyes fought the urge to bug out of my head and fall crashing through every floor of the seven-flight conference building. The moment her fake nails began scratching his head, I walked out of the room.

The cafeteria wasn�t nearly as filled as the conference room. Three other people sat at the dozens and dozens of blue glazed tables. I went through line without having to wait, buying myself some cheese fries and a diet Coke. I waited for Justin to come in.

Sure enough, forty minutes later his body sank onto the bench across from me. His smile was fake, almost plastic like, and heavy with unrealistic enthusiasm.

"What are you eating?" were the first words out of his mouth. Justin wasn�t as big of an eater as everyone imagined, so when food was the topic of conversation, it was obvious he was filling until he could bring to mind a way to present the real conflict he wanted to discuss.

"Cold fries drenched in microwave nacho dip. Please, have some. Please," I insisted. It�s not like I needed the extra calories diving into my thighs and staking camp, anyway.

We sat there for a while, eating crappy cafeteria food and drawing imaginary pictures on the tabletop. Every once in a while, he�d look at me, and then I�d look at him, and we�d both look away. I was getting bored of the game fast.

"So, how was the interview slash let Britney hang on me until she nearly rips my clothing off on national television session?"

"Don�t, Maria." His tone was shocking, almost warning me not to protest the scene I had just witnessed.

"Don�t, what? Don�t tell you about how absolutely disgusting it was to see her drooping her entire body basically in your lap? The deal was you two act like a normal couple. She�s a sweet girl, but I feel really bad for the guys she has dated if that is what she considers a normal thing to do in public."

The look on his face could have been interpreted in two ways. Either he constipated, or extremely pissed off. I would�ve bet my piggy bank on the latter. "Just remember that while you�re sitting here bad mouthing the girl, she is only doing exactly what you wanted."

"No, no, no. What I wanted was for you to make a statement referring to the suspicions of our relationship. Having your public relations director completely conjure up a new and magical fairyland liaison is nothing like what I suggested. Do you not agree with me? Shall we take a public poll, or just compare our opinions on the topic?" Going off on Justin was always a good way to heal shot nerves and torn blood vessels.

"You know I would change it if I could, but this is what is thought best for the group, for Britney, and for you."

I drug my hands over my face, pulling my skin away from my eyes. I had done it in the mirror many a time to unwind my nerves before. "This is like a really bad Disney movie. One where no one sings besides Elton John or Phil Collins, and all the backgrounds have some connection to porn stars and plastic sex toys."

Justin smiled. It was the first real smile I had seen since we had convened at the building earlier in the day. "I�m sorry it has to be this way."

"I understand." I understood, all right. Understood that I wasn�t good enough to be the girlfriend of all-mighty pop god Justin Timberlake. My legs were too stubby, my arms weren�t muscular enough, my hair was too short, and though my naval now had a stainless steel bar shoved through it with a little ball screwed on the end, it was nowhere near hard enough to be acceptable by society.

Britney opened the door to the lunchroom with a strong push, sending it bashing against the wall. She laughed, obviously embarrassed, and offered an apology to all who looked up. I watched her search through the tables until she spotted us. With a wave, she walked over. I saw every muscle in her abdomen flex with each step and immediately dropped the French fry in my hand back onto its tray.

She sat down, we said our greetings, and I offered her the rest of my food and soda. She had everything else I wanted, why not my nutrition?