I press the button for the elevator, nervously licking my lips. Having been the victim of the merciless *NSYNC schedules, I have been unable to do this more often. So now, at the first available break, there was no doubt in my mind that this is where I wanted to be. Not that 'here' is an actual place.

Rather, 'here' is wherever she is.

People ask me constantly what I see in her. I would be almost offended except that I don't really care why they think I'm with her. I don't care that she lip-synchs on stage half the time. I don't care that her clothes get deliberately smaller at each show. I just know that she sees me as no one else does, and that's enough for me.

When I'm with her, I don't have to be Justin Timberlake I don't have to be amusing, witty, comical or even slightly humorous. I'm just Justin. And the only other person in the world who knows him, is my mother. Even the guys don't see that side of me , because as much as I love them like my own, I'm in 'work mode' around them. It's been a while since we all sat down and were genuinely amusing and not just projecting a false sense of optimism and cheerfulness that none of us felt. It's exhausting being funny all the time, ironically.

The elevator stops at her floor, and I get off. I tell Mac to wait outside while I go see her, and he nods understandingly.

But he doesn't understand ,of course.

With a tentative hand raking through my dishevelled curls, I try to make sure I look presentable, and then give up on the impossible task, before knocking on the door.

She opens it, and immediately I can tell that she's tired. More so that usual, if that's possible. Then, her eyes take me in and her face lights up. Joy, enthusiasm, excitement.

Relief.

"Hi, J," she says almost shyly, as she hugs me, tightly.

"Hi, baby," I whisper hoarsely against her hair.

The power of a hug. It can heal someone with energy that you never knew you had. It tells someone that you know what they've been through because it's been the same for you. It tells someone how so very much you've missed them, especially on the nights when you're surrounded by the world and yet you've never felt more alone.

It closes off the world.

She clutches my hand and leads me into the room, where I see Fe. She greets me and leaves us both to recuperate from being away. She smiles reassuringly at the both of us, thinking that she knows how much we need this time together.

She doesn't.

People probably imagine that Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears spend their time together partying the night away at exclusive clubs or vacationing at exotic locations. But truth be told, I have no idea what those two do, myself. I do know, however, of a pair of twenty year olds named Justin and Britney who absolutely loved spending their time together doing nothing.

"Are you hungry?" I ask as I lay down on her bed, resting my aching neck from the long flight.

"Yeah. Wanna go get something to eat?" I nodded.

"Just give me a moment to change," she said as she runs her fingers through my curls on her way to the bathroom. It was a comforting and familiar gesture, and I felt at home and safe.

When she came out, she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a cardigan over her tank top. No sign of the trademark midriff that was Britney!'s.

She put on a touch of gloss and grabbed her purse and shades and she was set. I leaned forward, then, and kissed my girlfriend without any media spectacle or cameras rolling. It was a simple gesture that didn't require an explanation for prying eyes.

She smiled and took my hand, leading us out the door. We were joined by Mac, who called the driver to let him know that we were leaving the hotel.

As we approached the exit, we heard and saw a familiar sight, but one that did not warm out hearts. Britney's hold on my hand became tighter and I didn't have to look at her to know that she was weary of it all. I squeezed back gently.

It's okay, I told her, without a word.

Automatically, Justin came to life. He had on his trademark grin and smooth words and he saw that Britney had also put on her "public face". A smile here, a hug there, an autograph. Justin was ever obliging. He really did love his fans because he knew that he owed them everything, but he only wish they knew that sometimes they could be so stifling. He didn't put on a "public face" out of selfishness, but rather out of desperation for his continued sanity.

Finally, the words were spoken, request fulfilled and with a backward wave at the fans, the two were ushered into the waiting vehicle. And then it was back to the quiet comfortable silence between two people who loved each other. An uneventful night out with his girl. A chance to make up for lost time.