Justin had woken up at an ungodly hour to the rapping of his bodyguard Tiny�s fist on his hotel door telling him �to get his skinny ass out of bed�. Just like every other morning he awoke in an odd bed in another city to answer the same damn questions.
Do you hold any animosity towards Britney? Who broke off the relationship? Did she cheat on you? Did you and Janet ever have a fling? Are you dating Alyssa?
His PR person would step in then and say that if they didn�t leave those topics alone that the interview would be over. Only then did the questions change, but they never got any better.
Is NSYNC still together? How do the guys feel about you going solo? How do you fell about being tagged as the next Michael Jackson? How do you think your fans will react to the �new and mature� Justin Timberlake?
Every time. Every fucking time it was the same bullshit questions. It was never about the music, the reason why he was even in this business. It was his heart, the sole passion in his life. Yet it was never the focus of any interview.
Ever since the beginning he had been pegged as the �pretty boy�, �the lead singer�, and �Britney�s boyfriend�. Because he had wanted to share his love of music with the rest of the world, he had gone along with their false pretenses and labels, only to have it thrown back into his face later on.
It was damned if you do and damned if you don�t. If he denied the accusations then they�d just make up some off the wall rumor that the teenies, his so-called fans, would eat up as soon as they heard it. If he told the truth and owned up to what they asked of him then they�d tear his reputation apart and print all sorts of slander against his name, which, of course, the teenies would eat up anyway.
Today had been especially hard. Three different interviewers with the same set of questions only in a different order. As expected they pushed until told to stop and then the environment was shot. Four hours of torturous boredom locked in a room with people who didn�t like, respect, or even know him.
He had thought that the day would have gotten better since nothing else was scheduled. He had planned to get a good workout at the gym and then retire back to the hotel for a relaxing shower and then catch up on some television. He never made it to the gym.
As soon as he had left the meeting place for the interviews he had been approached by a few fans. It hadn�t bothered him at all, so he waved off the hand of his bodyguard pulling him away to the awaiting SUV and stopped to oblige the couple of girls.
He smiled and posed for their pictures and signed whatever they thrust into his hands. He ignored the nervous looks from his bodyguards and stayed to chit chat. The girls were his age and it had been so long since he had been able to talk to someone outside the business that was under thirty.
Soon a couple girls turned to many which in turn evolved into a whole mob. He tired to sign as many autographs and pose for pictures but it wasn�t enough.
The screaming was deafening and they soon began pushing and shoving. Clawing at anything they could touch, pulling at his shirt and grabbing onto his arms. They didn�t stop at his clothes either. When a girl latched herself onto him, Justin looked over at Tiny with a look of fear in his eyes.
When he was safe in the SUV, only then did he begin to shake with fear. His shirt had been ripped to barely shreds, his wristband taken, and there were nail marks on his arms. �Why? Why did they have to attack him?� He wasn�t any different than them. �Why was it never enough.�
Justin knew his life was hard. At times it was unbearable but he had chosen it. A long time ago when he signed that contract he had agreed to this sort of life for the rest of his days. Like the old saying goes �You have to take the bad along with the good.�. Until the good ceased to outweigh the bad, he would hold his head high and tread on.