---Part Four---

Abbey sat in a corner of the spacious studio, watching the photo session with distant eyes. The room was crowded with props, camera equipment, racks of clothing, lights and so on; it suited her to be lost among all the stuff. She wasn't even helping -- Robert Holt, the photographer, had two assistants loading film, setting lights and changing backgrounds -- and so, despite the atmosphere of the studio that she usually loved, she was beginning to heartily wish that she was anywhere but there.

She'd been embarrassed enough by Kelly's stinging rebuke in the lobby. Her humiliation had begun to fade, though, and Lance had made a couple of jokes that actually had her laughing as they entered the studio. Then she'd seen Justin, lounging on a chair near the others, and her laugh had died in her throat. The look in his eyes was nothing short of hostile. When Robert, clucking at them, had called the group over, she'd slunk into a corner and tried very hard to pretend that she didn't exist. From there, she'd heard Kelly offer profuse apologies for the obvious inconsideration of her employee (though, since she wasn't watching, she hadn't seen Chris and Joey exchange confused looks through that speech). Her cheeks burned as she hunched down on the ratty old chair in the corner.

What's her point in making me look bad? It doesn't reflect well on her, because it looks like she can't control her employees. God, someone please shoot me now. Now, an hour into the session, she shifted on the uncomfortable chair, wishing she'd brought a book or something to do. Then again, she hadn't thought she'd need one, since Kelly had made it sound like she'd actually be doing something worthwhile. If only she could sneak out; the thought was fruitless, since Kelly would doubtless be pissed.

It was a tempting idea, though, and Abbey's mind immediately began to teem with excuses. I have to go to the bathroom. No, too simple; besides, it would look strange if she took her coat, and if she didn't return in a few minutes it would look suspicious. I have to make some phone calls. To whom, though? She had to have a fleshed-out story if Kelly started asking questions. There's some email I have to catch up on. No, voicemail, she amended. I haven't checked it in a few days, and--

Oh, hell. She'd never been much of a liar and she knew it all too well. Glancing at her watch, she sighed. The session could last anywhere from another half hour to three more, depending on the temperament of the band and the photographer, and she knew that their schedule was open for the next couple of hours. Well, I'll just endure it. Then Kelly can finish ripping me a new one in front of everyone, and I can go home.

Her thoughts about Kelly had become rather unpleasant in the past hour. Abbey knew she should give her boss the benefit of the doubt -- she hardly knew the woman, after all, she'd only been assigned to Kelly just before the 'N Sync job -- but she was still feeling the flush of humiliation. Was that scene really necessary? And why did she have to do it in front of Lance? Even Mom never chewed me out in front of my friends.

"Abbey, are you watching? That's how you get the good shots." Kelly's voice interrupted her reverie. Her boss had spent most of the previous hour either on her cellphone or talking to Jive executives who popped in to see their current favorite artists. Apparently, now that she had a free moment, she'd chosen to spend it with Abbey. Lucky me, Abbey thought sourly.

Obedient, though, she turned her head to watch the proceedings. Holt's assistants ran around like white lightning, giving Abbey a pang of envy -- must be nice to have one assistant, let alone two -- while he spoke an endless stream of verbosity towards the group, the assistants, anyone within earshot. I wonder: if he stopped talking, would his brain shut down?

The guys were wearing clothes provided by the wardrobe designer, and, properly made up and styled, Abbey had to admit that they looked pretty decent. She hadn't really been paying attention to their looks during her first session with them, since then they were just subjects on the other side of the camera.

As she watched, Richard began breaking them up for individual pictures. Not surprisingly, he started with Justin; he was the only one whose name the photographer seemed to know, since she heard him order the others around with names like "you!" or "the red-haired guy", or, in Lance's case, "Blondie". The others seemed to get a kick out of that nickname. Richard then began to discuss poses with Justin; Abbey couldn't hear all of the conversation, but she caught the words "going for a sexy effect" and "female fans", and tried not to roll her eyes.

Finally, Justin nodded -- not looking too terribly happy, it might be noted -- and Robert went back behind the camera. "See? He really knows how to handle people," Kelly said reverently.

Handle? Abbey didn't like that, but Kelly was still talking.

"Abbey, I'm sorry I was harsh on you earlier. I don't like coming down on my employees like that, but you understand that I couldn't cut you a break just because you were having lunch with one of our stars, don't you?"

Numbly, Abbey nodded, not liking the direction in which the conversation was headed.

"And I shouldn't even have to say this, but you really don't want to even think about getting involved with any of them. I know it's easy, you're all close in age, they're all very good looking, so are you of course, and you're all spending time together -- but Jive will be up in arms if anything happens, and it wouldn't be very professional, now would it?"

Every word seemed to hit Abbey with the weight of a sledgehammer. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "But -- we just ran into each other in the deli, it wasn't like we went out at all," she said weakly. One hand rubbed at the other, her fingers picking at ragged cuticles.

Kelly tsked. "Well, of course I know that, and you know that -- but suppose someone from the media had seen you in there? They would have drawn their own conclusions, and it would have turned into a circus. You can't refute it once the public gets a whiff of it, true or not. Believe me, Abbey, I'm just looking out for your best interests."

Abbey was too stunned by this to argue. Admittedly, Kelly had a point -- and, no, she didn't want people thinking she was the girlfriend of any of the guys -- but was public opinion really that important, and that narrow-minded? She felt cold all over now.

"Why don't you go ahead and take the rest of the afternoon off," Kelly said. "You don't look that well."

Nodding, not wanting to question her sudden good fortune, Abbey gathered up her coat and bag and hurried to the door. Pausing there, she glanced back; her eyes caught on Justin, whom Robert was still exhorting to "give me sexy, give me wanton desire..." Justin's brows were lowered, his head tilted forward a little, and his indolent pose belied the dark tension of his eyes. Abbey found herself sucking in a breath at the intense look he was giving -- and her face went red when she realized that he was staring at her.

Almost distantly, she heard Robert cry, "That's it! Perfect!" Gulping, she turned and all but ran from the studio, farewells from the other guys echoing in her ears.

---

Back in her apartment, curling up in a comforter with a mug of tea sounded like the best idea. Her sinuses were starting to feel clogged, so she took some cold medicine and vitamin A in hopes of staving off an all-out cold, which she didn't want to have during the flight back to Orlando in two days. Thoroughly dosed, she found a book to curl up with on the couch, lit some candles, and tried to relax.

Unfortunately, every time her mind started to drift, that image of Justin as she'd last seen him popped into her head. It was all too easy to connect her afternoon back to the look he'd given her when she and Lance had arrived, laughing, at the studio; then she realized that she'd been staring at the same page for five minutes straight, and, with a sigh, put the book down.

Who needs the media to start a rumor? Just take one Justin Timberlake, add an innocent meeting, and poof! Instant gossip mill. Geez, you'd think he was jealous or something.

When she saw where that particular train of thought was headed, she got up, put the book on a side table, and turned on the television. Something mindless sounded just about right. But she had barely watched ten minutes of a repeat episode of South Park before she was fast asleep on the couch.

---

Lance had not missed the look in Justin's eyes when he and Abbey arrived at the studio. He hadn't had a chance to explain, though, what with the photo session that was immediately followed up by a meeting with a group of Jive marketing and sales executives; not that they couldn't have talked while the others were getting pictures taken, but he had a feeling that Justin's temper was under thin control as it was.

So it was that they had to wait to get back to the hotel before Justin could explode. The element of time had managed to cool him to some extent; Lance was relieved when, in the lobby, Justin merely eyed him and said, "So you and Abbey had lunch together?"

"Not intentionally, no. I went to this deli to eat, and she happened to come in just as I was finishing up, so we talked."

"That just sounds like too much of a coincidence to me."

"How could it? Look, she said it was her favorite place to eat, and I go there whenever we're here, it's not like someone planted me there or something."

"What's this about?" Chris leaned into the conversation as the group approached the elevators. "Yeah, what was up with lunch?"

Lance groaned, smacking his forehead with the heel of his hand. "How many times am I going to have to explain this? Nothing happened. And anyway, you--" he stabbed a finger into Justin's chest "--will be happy to know that I furthered your cause, so quit complaining."

"Oh, you told her the--?" Justin cut off abruptly, realizing that Chris still had his chin on Lance's shoulder.

"Told her the what?" Chris's eyes widened. "Did you tell her that Justin has cooties?"

"Shut up, Chris," Justin said absently.

"Yeah, I apologized to her for your rude behavior. But she'd rather hear it from you, since, just like I told you, coming from me it just sounds like I'm making up for my inconsiderate friend." Lance rolled his eyes. "Now will you listen to me?"

"Hm." Justin crossed his arms, thoughtful. "Maybe you're right. I'll have to try that, but it's just -- she's so frustrating, you know?"

"That's how girls are," J.C. put in, chuckling.

"Yeah, welcome to the wide world of women." Chris grinned and leaned back on his heels, arms folded, smiling as if sure he'd gotten the last word in.

"And just joining us there is Chris!" Justin shot back. Fortunately, the elevator arrived just then and they were spared the resultant chase scene that might have otherwise ensued.

---

Phone. Phone ringing. Get the phone--

Abbey awoke to the bleary realization that she wasn't in her bed. Disorientation tumbled her senses, dulled further by a stuffy nose and eyes that she couldn't blink clear, and when she tried to get up her legs were tangled in the comforter. Phone, phone, don't let the answering machine pick up, shit!

Stumbling across the main area of the apartment to the phone, she grabbed the receiver from its cradle just in time to hear her own voice, pre-recorded, announcing to her caller that she was unavailable, but would call back as soon as possible. Over the recording, she yelped, "Please don't hang up! I've got it, don't hang up!"

As soon as the beep of the machine sounded, Cat's tirade began. "Abbey! Where the heck are you! It's like eleven o'clock and you said you'd be here at ten, you're gonna make me miss this I'm gonna kill you--"

"Cat, calm down -- what time is it?" she interrupted her sister, wiping her eyes with one hand and blinking at the clock on her VCR.

"It's eleven oh two, what's wrong with your voice? Are you sick?"

"I seem to be." Her throat was scratchy, although she was relieved that talking didn't hurt. Her eyes were a constant mess of tears, though, and her nose was completely stuffed up, which seemed to complement the full forward face ache she was rapidly feeling. "Don't worry, I'll be there asap. I'll throw on some clothes, give me twenty minutes."

"Ten. Abbey, I hope you're okay."

Gotta love her priorities. "Fifteen, and bye." Without further ado, she stumbled into her bedroom to find some clothes. A master of the art of the quick-change, she was ready in short order, though she brushed her hair and tucked it into a swift ponytail on the way to her mother's. Cat, thankfully, was at the door to meet her. From there, they hailed a cab to Times Square and the MTV Studios.

Not surprisingly, the traffic was bad. Cat, looking sweet-faced and innocent -- the very image of the young 'N Sync fan -- bounced nervously in the cab's back seat. "You're going to take pictures of me and them, right, Ab?"

"If they're cool with it. But yes, that's why I brought the camera." Abbey thought it was a safe call; the guys were very good with their fans, from what she'd seen, so she was reasonably sure that they'd be good to Cat. If not, well, she'd already promised herself what she'd do to them.

A block away from the studios, they had to abandon the cab. Traffic had shut down completely in Times Square; dedicated fans had been flocking to the block around the MTV Studios for several days now, despite the biting-cold weather, and the NYPD had been forced to close off the main cross streets due to the extreme number of fans now clogging the area. Abbey dug from her bag two security badges for herself and Cat, though she held onto them until they'd actually reached the perimeter of the area. Much of it had been blockaded off to keep fans from trying to enter the building; armed with their badges, Abbey and Cat were let in, resulting in annoyed cries from nearby girls.

"Now, just be cool, all right?" Abbey advised her little sister as they headed up in the elevator. "They know you're coming, but there's no need to be hyper."

"I'll be cool," Cat promised, practically vibrating with energy. Without warning, she hugged Abbey, squeezing her around the waist. "Thank you! I love you."

"I love you, too," Abbey replied with a smile, hugging Cat in return. She ran a fond hair over her sister's pale blond hair, carefully arranged in barrettes to tumble loosely around her face. "And they will, too."

Making her way down the hallway, Abbey tried hard not to think about the argument she'd had with Justin in the empty office. She didn't want this visit to be haunted by bad memories. Fortunately, Cat's effusive babbling went a long way towards keeping her from thinking about that particular incident.

They paused just outside the doors leading to the warren of rooms comprising the TRL studio. Abbey encouraged Cat to take deep, slow breaths; she was starting to worry that the girl might hyperventilate, as excited as she was. Then, Cat's hand firmly in her own, Abbey led the way into the studio.

With approximately twenty minutes remaining before the performance, the group was in makeup, getting touched up to make sure their skin didn't appear too bright on camera. Joey, Justin and Lance were in the 'hot chairs' at the moment, while J.C. chatted on a cell-phone and Chris was playing with Busta nearby.

Cat froze in the door. Abbey tugged on her sister's arm, fighting amusement when the girl didn't move. "Come on, Cat, it's all right. They don't bite."

"Oh, hey, Abbey." Chris looked up and waved, shaking one of Busta's paws up and down. J.C. glanced up and nodded as the others turned in their seats to see who was there.

"Hey, guys. This is my little sister Catherine, that I was telling you about. We all call her Cat, though, so you can feel free to. Is that okay, Cat?" Abbey felt Cat's hand tighten around hers; she seemed to have gone mute from shock.

"Cat? That's a cool name," Joey said. The makeup artist chuckled, "Fine, if you're going to move so much, get out of my chair," and took off the tissue paper tucked into his collar. Joey hopped out of the chair and ambled over to Cat. "Hi, I'm Joey," he said, sticking out his hand.

This was a dilemma for Cat, who was holding on to Abbey with her right hand. Continue clutching her sister, or lose that anchor in favor of Joey Fatone? In the end, the choice was simple. "I, I know who you are," Cat said shyly, and took his hand.

"It's nice to meet you. I hope Abbey hasn't been telling you mean things about us and ruining our reps." At that, Abbey snorted, rolling her eyes.

Cat giggled. "She wouldn't do that, and I wouldn't believe her if she did."

"Abbey, this is your kid sister? I can't believe it. She doesn't look anything like you. She's cute." Justin, also finished with his makeup session, was next to join the small gathering. At his approach, Cat clamped to Abbey again, her eyes wide with something like shock.

"Gee, thanks, Justin." Abbey managed to keep the testiness out of her voice, doing her best to put aside her dislike of him for Cat's sake. "You don't have to suck up, you're already her favorite."

"Really? That is too sweet. Can I sign something for you?"

Cat offered her autograph book -- newly purchased two days previously -- with one shaking hand, and Justin knelt to rest the book on one knee while he signed it. The others made their way over in the interim, Chris carrying Busta so that Cat could scratch his ears, while J.C. wound up his phone call quickly.

Seeing him tuck away the cell phone in a hip pocket reminded Abbey of Kelly on her cell-phone yesterday, and she took a breath as she remembered what she'd wanted to say. "Hey, by the way, I wanted to apologize for yesterday, being late and all," she began in her best calm tone. "I know how busy everything is right now--" Abbey broke off when she saw bemused looks coming her way from everyone but Lance, who was now busy signing Cat's autograph book.

"It really wasn't a big deal," J.C. replied, voice slightly confused. "I'd only got there about five minutes before you did, so it's not like we were waiting long or anything."

"Yeah, what's up with Kelly anyway?" Chris asked. "That whole thing about you being all inconsiderate was just a bunch of crap, it didn't even make sense."

Abbey shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable; she'd expected them to simply accept the apology and move on, rather than take her side. "I've been trying to figure that out myself," she replied.

"And if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have been late, anyway," Lance put in. Cat's eyes grew wider throughout this, and Abbey glanced at her sister -- missing the look exchanged by Justin and Lance -- thinking only of how this must sound to the girl's ears.

"Okay, well -- now that that's out of the way, why don't we get some pictures?" she suggested brightly.

She was glad that they gave her sister the royal treatment; something in her heart softened to see it. She knew that they would have been as sweet to Cat regardless of whether she was Abbey's sister or not, and that touched her deeply. They had to pose for pictures quickly, since showtime was nearing; then Abbey led Cat over to the side of the stage area.

The studio was filled with its audience already; the group, mostly young women with a few men scattered throughout, whispered excitedly, charged with palpable tension. Abbey noted that the performance area had changed once again from the usual TRL look; today a stage had been built into one corner of the gigantic glass windows that displayed MTV to the New York streets, and a runway connected the stage to a side area which held six director's chairs. On the wall next to that, five mannequins had been strung up, each dressed and styled so as to vaguely resemble a member of 'N Sync. Dave Holmes and his co-veejay, a woman Abbey didn't recognize, were preparing for the show with various crew personnel.

Abbey chuckled when Cat reached for her hand again. "You okay, hon?"

"I still can't believe I just met them. I'm still shaking. Thank you, Abbey, thank you..."

"Shh, shh, it's okay. Look, I think it's starting."

Abbey found herself watching Cat more than the group during the two-hour program. Cat's reactions were immediate, intense, and emotional; when the guys first came out on stage, she stood up with the rest of the audience, screaming and applauding as if she hadn't just seen them ten minutes before. For the rest of the show, her eyes never wavered from the stage where the five of them sat to be interviewed by Dave Holmes, reeling off their list of top ten favorite videos of all time, participating in a game of trivia about each other so that one fan could win a poster of their Rolling Stone cover, and generally goofing off and having fun.

It wasn't anything Abbey hadn't seen before, but she could see how simply enchanting it was that this five young men with incredible talent were also normal guys like any other; there was no stand-offishness or snobbery, even when the cameras weren't rolling. They were being themselves, a fact to which Abbey could readily attest. And being themselves was something the audience ate up; when Justin absently sang along with a couple of lines from Lenny Kravitz's "Fly Away", their favorite video, several of the girls in the audience screamed -- Abbey thought that maybe it was because this was such a natural, normal thing to do, to sing along to a favorite song.

Listening to them sing "This I Promise You" early in the show, she was struck again by the sweetness of their voices. The song may have been romantic pap (not that most of the studio audience cared), but the transcendent harmonies lent it a rich soulfulness that almost made her want to believe that love was a real thing, and that promises lasted.

At one point, during Justin's verse, she thought she saw his eyes slide over to focus on her for a moment; but she shook herself, and he was looking away again. That couldn't have been right; she hastily rationalized that he was looking at Cat, because he was still mad at her, right?

---

After the show, Abbey managed to get Cat back to the dressing room quickly enough for farewell hugs and well-wishes. The guys were running off to a dinner being held in their honor by Jive, but they were gratified at her extremely positive response to the show -- especially to the performance of "Bye Bye Bye", in which she'd stood up and done at least half the choreography along with them. More effusive now, she babbled thanks to each of them, squeezing tight with each hug. Then they were herded out the door by Johnny, who nodded to Abbey, quickly reminding her of the flight tomorrow.

"All right, squirt. How about we go get something to eat and then I'll take you back home--" She paused there to sneeze into a tissue, hastily dug from a pocket. "Hopefully without giving you my cold."

"I can't believe I met them," Cat burbled happily. That was her refrain all the way out of the studios, into a cab (the traffic having become much clearer now that the show was over and the group had vacated the premises), and to Abbey's apartment. Abbey had wanted to cook dinner for her sister, but by now she was feeling so lethargic that she settled for ordering Chinese -- to Cat's delight -- and collapsing on the couch.

Cat promptly started calling all her friends to gloat and compare notes. Abbey listened with half an ear, chuckling softly as she made some mint tea for herself. God, was I ever that young and excitable? Yeah, I think I was, so help me. When did I get old?

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