| Chapter 3 "No, no, no, Josh! You got it all wrong," Miranda coached, reaching over and pressing the 'Stop' button on her CD player. JC looked up, eyebrows raised, and an expression of obvious confusion filled his oceanic eyes. She felt her knees get slightly weak as he looked at her, but wouldn't let it show. No. She had to be professional right now, not romance-y. "Your kicks don't go out far enough. You should do it like this." She demonstrated once again, and JC became even more confused, not to mention a bit bitchy, considering it was early morning and usually he slept for about 3 more hours or so. "But, that's what I was doing." "No, your knee was a bit bent. Perfection's the key here, so either you get the moves 100% correct or you look like a retard." He could hear the other four snicker at the major diss JC just received, and shot them all evil looks. They shut right up. "Here, want me to help you?" she asked, putting on a polite front, but he knew deep down inside she just wanted to get the Hell out of there, and go home. JC shook his head, being the damn stubborn Leo that he is, and she looked at him sternly. "Try it again, and if you don't do it right, I'll help." JC tried once more and could tell from the look of disapproval that he'd screwed up. She got behind him, placing a hand on his inner left thigh, extremely close to his crotch, causing him to get slightly hard as he imagined her spinning him around, tucking her hands down his pants. He could feel her breath on his neck, close to his ear, and gulped as he felt himself fighting against the crotch of his pants. She lifted up slightly and he wobbled to the right slightly but she grabbed his arm with her other hand to steady him. After making sure he had balance she let go and then straightened out his knee, which was to his side instead of in front of him. Miranda smiled, satisfied, and dusted her hands off with raised eyebrows. "Think you got it?" "Uhh.. y-yeah," he spoke, his voice breaking and sounding like a 13-year-old's. Miranda left the room and JC turned towards the others as Justin left the room, also, but in a different direction. "Dude, you so gave it away," Joey couldn't contain his laughter anymore as he and Chris fell out, on the floor, holding their stomachs. Joey got back up, and folded his hands by his shoulder while batting his eyelashes. "Think you got it?" he spoke in a high pitched voice. "Uhh.. err.. y-yeah!" Chris mimicked in the same high pitched voice, making his voice crack. JC flung his water bottle at Chris. It smacked him in the forehead and he fell back over. "I did not do that!" he protested. "Damn close," Lance chimed in. JC felt his ears get hot as Joey teased, "C and Miranda sittin in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-OOF!" He fell over in pain as JC's hand made contact with Joey's nuts. "Oh. fuck you, man." Lance and Chris covered their private areas and looked around, whistling, with haloes seeming to form above their heads, as if they'd done no wrong. "Yeah, that's what I thought," JC laughed in victory. ~*~ Miranda could hear a few muffled words from the guys as she walked to the sink. She smirked, hearing Chris, Joey, and Lance ganging up on JC, and shook her head. Those four. They were crazy. And getting worse with each passing day because they were pumped that the tour was coming up. Justin kind of shut himself off from them. He seemed to be the loner of the five. On the outside, always looking in, and she couldn't help but wonder why. She also wondered why he'd seemed so familiar looking in that photo taken a few years back. She thought of all the people she knew with curly hair. Oh my God. Was that who he was? Had she bumped into Justin Timberlake that one year ago? Miranda remembered the man's face so clearly, having daydreamed about him many times. They looked exactly alike. Only their eyes were different. His were a warm, oceanic blue, and Justin's were icy cold. Filled with anger and hate. She now knew, though, there was a kind, gentle man inside of him, somewhere, and wondered what had made him shut that part of him out. Maybeall he needs is someone to be nice to him, she thought. Someone to be his friend. I hope I'm right. ~*~ He leaned up against the wall, his foot tapping against it, as he reached into his small bag. He made himself a joint and lit it with his lighter, taking a puff. He relaxed slightly as he held his breath and his beeper beeped. He looked at it to see the numbers he'd been waiting for. "Britney." Justin unfolded his cell nervously and dialed the number he had etched in stone in his memory. "Yes?" she answered, cheerily. He puffed his joint once more, and held his breath as he tried to think of what he should say. "It's me, Just," he spoke quietly. "Listen, J," her voice became sympathetic and mean. "You need to stop calling me wherever I go! I've moved on and I'm not coming back! You blew it, not me!" He heard the familiar sound of the dial tone buzzing in his ear. Did she really just hang up on him? Or was he dreaming? Yes, that was it! This was all just one big, long, and scary nightmare! Any moment now, he'd wake up to feel Britney's lips on his, her body next to him, giggling. Telling him he had a photoshoot in fifteen minutes. He felt the cool wind blow gently, and wondered if you could feel things in your dreams. He remembered his mother saying you couldn't, and came to a horrible realization. This. Wasn't. A dream. She really just told him to move on. No, dammit!, he thought. My life is supposed to be perfect! Pain free! Stop crying! Stop FUCKING CRYING! "God fucking DAMMIT!" he sobbed, kicking the brick wall as he turned around. He pulled his foot back once more but this time aimed for the railing. He kicked it so hard it vibrated and his hands flailed in a horrible burst of anger, knocking over a trashcan. ~*~ Miranda entered the room to see a quartet instead of a quintet. "Where's Bitchy?" she bad-mouthed. JC pointed to the door. "Outside. Probably smoking grass." Miranda nodded slowly. Justin smoked weed? I never would'a guessed. JC had to destroy all chances of her hooking up with anyone else, even if it meant tattling on his brother. He wanted her so badly. And he was 100% positive she looked at him, too. He knew she was attracted to him in someway. Now, I just need a plan to hook her, he thought. All looked up as Justin entered the studio again, seeming in a hurry, with swollen red eyes. Eyes filled with pain, and some kind of anger. It was a frighteningly deep anger, deeper than any of them could even begin to comprehend. He stood in his place and Miranda could've sworn she saw his lip quiver, but was surprised when his teeth grit when she snapped her fingers, flipping on the music. ~*~ "J, try this," she spoke, spinning on her right heel, landing on her left, and then turned around again, tapping her feet. He'd completely forgotten to snap his fingers halfway in between the steps. Justin shot her the evilest of evil looks. "I can fucking dance, okay? I've been in this business, probably, longer than you have!" "Ballet when I was 1, tap when I was 4, and then just regular dance lessons since then, smart ass." That seemed to have shut him up for a few. "Been performing on stage since I could talk!" he spoke, now shouting above the extremely loud music. "Learned to dance before I took my first step, was on MMC with Jace for about two years, and have been in this damn group for 7 years. Now who's been here longer?" "Your mom probably made you do all that shit because she didn't wanna deal with your stupid, stubborn, cold, uncaring ass!" So much for the attempt at being friends with him, she thought. He was so damn annoying and irritable, which made it impossible for her to even try to like him! "As if you're any better," he spat. She looked up from her feet and glared at him. "I'll have you know, my parents did everything in their fucking POWER to bring me up right, you spoiled little brat! I pity you because obviously your mom didn't even TRY!" She almost saw steam flowing out of his ears as his face got red hot. He walked over and slapped the Stop button on her CD player so hard it fell right off the table, smashing into a million pieces. "That's the second CD player of mine that you've busted, bastard!" she hollered as Justin walked right out of the room. Miranda bent down, starting to sweep up the pieces, when JC approached her. "Damn, that was harsh," he chuckled. She shot him a pissed off look. "Nothing his sorry ass doesn't deserve." "Yeah, point taken, but that mother comment was mean. Just down right mean. Let me tell you, though. You sure as Hell put his ass in line." "Well, he's a brat," she reasoned. "He needs to learn that some people won't take his shit even for a second. I may've gone too far, but the way he treats people is wrong. Someone's gotta do the job of teaching him that, and do the dirty work." "Yeah, another point there. You're right." "I am?" "Uh-huh. But he only gets really mean like that when he's tired, having a bad day, or he doesn't have the time to do his, quote-unquote, 'thing'." "'Thing'?" "Yep. You should see all the shit he does." Miranda's eyebrows raised in question. "He does his weed, drinks, does heroine." JC's eyes closed, almost as if he were proud of his little fibs, which remained unbeknownst to her. He thought he'd destroyed all chances of her ever even liking Justin, but he wasn't sure. "Oh well," Miranda shrugged. "Those are his problems, not ours, so let him deal with the aftermath. Anyways, I'm thinking of having a little Superbowl party with you guys this Sunday. Wouldja show?" "Sure I will!" "Make sure you tell all the guys they can come, too, even Justin, okay? I wanna really get to cop a feel of you guys," Literally, for you, she thought. "And what you're all really like. It's still kind of awkward for me to be up there teaching you guys. Not that y'all make me feel uncomfortable or anything, it's just." Why the Hell did those gorgeous eyes of his make her feel so much like a little girl, talking to her crush? She didn't understand it- she'd only been working for him for two weeks. Not enough time to like someone, right? "I know what you mean," JC smiled. She felt her knees start to quiver. "I'll be sure and tell 'em 'bout your party, kiddo. But uhh. I gotta go." Miranda nodded and was taken aback when JC pulled her into a hug, kissed her cheek, then left, leaving her completely speechless. Right then, Joey decided to walk in the room and saw Miranda gawking. He followed her gaze to see JC exiting the room. "Ooh!" he teased as he walked over to her as she packed up to go home. "Like Jace much?" "No." "Liar." "Fuck you," she laughed, pushing him playfully into the wall. "Please?" Her jaw dropped in astonishment, causing Joey's grin to widen. He wiggled his eyebrows. "Waddaya say?" She paused for a moment, placing her hand to her chin, as if she were thinking. Then, she got real close to him. So close he could feel her breath on his face, and gulped. Miranda leaned in further, looking down since she was shy. Suddenly she looked up, grinning evilly. She heard his breathing quicken as she kissed him heatedly on the lips, for a full ten seconds, then pulled away and smacked him in the stomach. "I say." she began, and Joey's eyes widened with hope, "I'd rather eat a live toad." She smiled, wryly. "You're a bitch, you know that?" "I do try," and with that, she left the room. |