WILDFIRE
By Aysia Anderson (a.k.a. Nikki)

Chapter Two: Technical Foul

"Aw, why so glum? You look like somebody stole your sunshine."

Nastassia commented as Camille walked into her bedroom in a pair of ripped and frayed jeans and a white tank top. Her hair was pinned up into a messy bun and her eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark shades. If a black person could ever appear to be pale Camille would be an example.

"How is your ankle doing?" she asked, ignoring the question from her friend as she sat down heavily in the chair near the rapper's bed.

"It's fine." Nastassia shifted uncomfortably atop of the comforter and sheets. "What's your problem? You're going to a big party tonight. You're not the one cooped up in the house on bed rest."

"I have to say goodbye to David today."

"Okay…and?"

"I just wasn't expecting it is all." Camille lifted her shades to the top of her head and examined her friend's swollen foot from her distance. "That looks nasty, man."

"Even bandaged and bruised my feet look a lot better than yours." Nastassia retorted, lifting the remote control at her side into the air and changing the television's channel. "It's not like you're breaking up with that cat, Cam. He's just doing his thing for the extra cash."

"I've got money."

"Maybe he doesn't want your money. You should be happy about that. Trust me, I'd only sleep with you for the green."

"Aw, sugar, you know you'd sleep with me for free!" Camille cracked, standing up from her seat and heading over to the bedroom's large picturesque window. "I'm never really home now, you know, and I just wanted to be able to spend some time with him." she slid her hands into her back pockets and squinted out into the sunlight.

"You just don't like sharing him with the MTV viewers."

"Shit, I don't care about that. If he didn't want to be with me then who am I to stop him?"

"You're Camille Marie Henderson and don't you ever forget it."

"Let me break out the champagne." she sighed heavily. "You know this is the longest I've ever been in a relationship with anyone? I usually hit the one week mark and then I'm ready to be free."

"Commitment phobia, C." Nastassia stopped flipping through the channels once she landed on Nickelodeon. Sponge Bob Square Pants was dancing around the screen excitedly. Oh, how she loved her Sponge Bob. "We're all aware of your dysfunction."

"Six months, Na$. I should be itching to get out of this but…I'm not."

"Maybe Dave's different."

"You think?"

"Cam, he's hot and he worships you. There's nothing else in the world that you could possibly want."

"He doesn't worship me." Camille rolled her eyes before retracing her footsteps and dropping down heavily on the bed beside her friend. "I think I'm the one doing the worshiping."

"Just as long as you're not getting down on your knees and praying to his third leg I have no comments to make."

"Na$!"

"Shut up, yo! Sponge Bob is on!" she pointed at the screen before Camille could come back at her with a snide remark. "Quit acting like you're in love with this dude."

"Maybe I am."

"Maybe you're a dumb bitch."

"Maybe someone's jealous?" Camille asked, observing the pink rollers set in Nastassia's hair. She was used to seeing her casual but the powder blue robe and pink rollers was a sight to behold.

"Please, I have a man!"

"Since when? What's his name? What's the 4-1-1?"

Nastassia glared at her friend crossly, "Get out of my grill,
Camille."

"Whatever," Camille stood up from the bed, "I told you that I could hook you up with that hot St. Louis rapper…"

"I don't like Chingy. I'd break him." she flipped the channel to BET and shook her head as the scrawny yet somehow attractive rapper sat onscreen with The Cosby Show's precious Rudy Huxtable, Keisha Knight-Pulliam, gone sex pot. "She graduated from Spelman University to be a video ho? You gotta love it."

"I meant Nelly, gutter whore." Camille ignored her friend's comments.

"I'm not trying to play stepmother to his two Bebe's kids."

"He doesn't have Bebe's. His kids are very well behaved."

"If you like him so much then why don't you marry him?" Nastassia questioned in a sing song voice and stuck her tongue out childishly.

"'Cause I'm not the one flying solo."

"Look, ho, why don't you go run along and get ready for this little party of yours? When you got here my ankle was hurting but suddenly I've got a serious pain in my ass."

"Cute. Don't make me lose your house key. No one will be able to get inside and save you after your nasty fall." Camille smirked playfully, "Anyway, I'm down to deciding between the white elephant pants and black shoulder shirt or the silver dress."

"The silver dress is out. It's a felony in forty-five states."

*****

"Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?" Justin sang along with the television theme song while his best friend since childhood sat at his side on the couch doing the cabbage patch to the music.

"Sponge Bob Square Pants!" Trace shouted back excitedly.

"Absorbent and yellow and porous is he!"

"Sponge Bob Square Pants!"

"His nautical nonsense be something you wish!" Justin laughed as his mother walked into the room with a plate full of pizza puffs while shaking her head at the spectacle that was her son and his friend.

"You two scare me sometimes." Lynn Harless commented, handing the plate to her son and kissing the side of his face. "It's four o'clock, boys. Shouldn't you be dressed and not still in your pajamas?"

"I got that party tonight with Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey, mom. Why get dressed, ruin a perfectly decent pair of clothes, only to jump right out of them into something else?"

"You make no sense."

"Perfect sense, Mrs. H." Trace smirked as she kissed the side of his face as well. He was around so much since his childhood that he was like part of the family. He waved politely as Lynn disappeared and immediately went about mocking his friend. "Mama's boy."

"What? Man, shut up!" Justin popped one of the pizza puffs into his mouth.

"J, you got a fat pad in The Hills but where are you? You're at your mamma's house in your damn pajamas letting her wait on you hand and foot."

"Those are big words for someone partaking in the same actions. You were here before I got here, dude, so what does that say about you?"

"What are you implying here?"

"I have every right to sponge off of my mother. You, on the other hand, are a sick fuck. Get your own mommy." Justin pointed a finger at Trace who in turn flipped him the bird. "Get off the hater-ade."

"Screw you, man." Trace reached over Justin to capture a few pizza rolls of his own with his fingers. "Who are you taking to the party? Any special female?"

"Nope." Justin returned his focus to the television screen. "I'm only going because Nelly is and he's talking about Nick Lachey being on our team for the next Challenge for The Children basketball event."

"In that case do you plan on bringing anyone home with you?"

"Yeah, I'm going to bring Jessica Simpson home and school her on chicken and tuna." he made a face. "Just because I picked up a few girls at a few parties it doesn't mean that…"

"A few girls, JT? Stop playing, man. You're notorious."

"I'm just going out to have fun tonight. There's no one on the hit list."

"I'll give you five bucks if you hook me up with Lucy Lui."

"What makes you think she'll be there?"

"Just a hunch." Trace grinned mischievously.

*****

"Hey, Dave?" Camille called as she entered the hotel room that she had gotten for him to stay in while he was in town. Originally he was going to just crash with her but being only eighteen years old and still heavily under the rule and influence of her parents they both decided against it. She didn't have her own place yet but she was looking around and in the mean time she split her home life between living with Nastassia and living at home with her folks. "Babe?"

"I'm in the shower, babe, hold on just a second!" his voice returned to hers as she closed the door and dropped her keys in the dish sitting on the cherry wood side table.

Making herself at home Camille waltzed into the living room and dropped down onto the sofa, lifting a magazine from the coffee table. Leaning back against the arm of the sofa she threw one leg up over the back and put her opposite foot down against the cushions to position the magazine against her thigh. She wasn't sure why men were so obsessed with Playboy but it couldn't hurt to flip through the pages.

"Now how suggestive is that?" Dave asked, strolling into the room in a pair of boxers, drying his hair with a towel.

"What?"

"You lying on the sofa reading my playboy in a very vulnerable position." he smirked as she tossed the publication back onto the coffee table and sat up, bringing both feet down onto the floor.

"I wasn't reading your little magazine. Reading involves words and there ain't a lot of words to decipher in that thing." Camille glared at her boyfriend as he sat down next to her.

"Thought I wasn't going to see you before I headed out. Where you been?"

"Had to go check up on the gimp," she answered as he draped the towel around his neck and reached out for her, cupping the side of her face in his strong hand.

"You are so bad for me kid. You know that?" his eyes, one blue and one brown, examined hers carefully.

"How so?"

"You're just a baby, Camille. You might walk and talk like an adult but you still don't know nothing yet."

"I know enough." she swallowed. They had had this conversation before about the age difference. She couldn't have even been in high school yet when she first saw him on television living his life under the camera lens and he was in his early twenties then. He was only a little younger than her own parents.

"Your folks could have had me locked up over you, baby, you know that?"

"You're still here though so doesn't that say something to you?"

"Yeah, I'm a lucky bastard." David moved his hand to skim the side of his index finger over the slope of her nose before rubbing the towel over his damp hair once again.

"Dave, I think I'm in love with you." Camille admitted though she
wasn't quite sure why she had said it in that moment. She almost wished that she hadn't.

David's hands slowly began to stop the circular movements over his scalp. Camille watched as he stood up, holding the towel in hand, and walked around the sofa down the hall. Silently she sat there and dropped her eyes to the ground. What was she thinking? Why had she just dropped that bomb on him? A moment later he reappeared in the room and held his hand out to her. Cautiously she accepted the invitation and allowed him to pull her up from the sofa.

"You serious?" David asked as they stood before one another, his fingers intertwined with hers. "You not just saying this `cause I'll be gone for a few months?"

"No," Camille's voice was barely above a whisper as he tilted her chin up with one finger and softly pressed his lips to hers.

"Nastassia told me your track record. That had to be difficult to say." he smiled slightly. "I feel the same way though so don't be all weird about the way you feel. I feel it too."

"You're not just saying that because I said it first?"

"Baby, if a man tells you that he loves you and it's not while he's between your legs than its more than likely the truth."

"If he's trying to sleep with you when he says it?" she asked.

"Then tell him to use his hand."

"In that case you have a few hours before you have to catch your flight and I'm definitely not going to make you use your hands."

////

Nastassia paused in her retelling to take a sip from her glass of water as everyone in VH1's studio stared at her, hanging on her every word. She didn't recall ever having people on the edge of their seats the way that they were right now. The interest in the whole topic was unreal. Gary himself was leaning in, elbow on the arm of his chair, holding up his chin with the palm of his hand. He was completely engrossed. Taking a deep breath she decided to continue on.

"Camille was a little apprehensive about going to the party after she had said goodbye to David at the airport. She went straight to her designer from there, got dressed, got her hair and makeup done, and was in a limousine in route to this event. She didn't really have time to cry or be depresses about his departure from her life. It was the first time that she realized that when cameras are on you, you better be damn sure that you look happy even if you're being eaten alive from the inside out."

"So she went alone to Nick and Jessica's party?" Gary asked.

"Yeah, like I said, David was gone and I was out of commission because of my injury so she pretty much had no choice. She knew that Jessica had really wanted her to be there and she's not the type of person to let anyone down. She was a little on edge though so she called me up once she got there…"

////

"What's your problem now, hussy?" was the first thing that Camille heard as Nastassia answered the phone with the friendliest greeting that she could come up with for the moment. "Your man is gone, your favorite person in the whole wide world is stranded in bed, and you're at a party that I know is banging `cause I can hear the music through the phone. What song is that? Are they playing Snoop? They don't know anything about Snoop!"

"I told him that I love him," was all that she could say as she
moseyed into the less congested area of the room on the sidelines.

"Sweetie, your daddy already knows you love him so that's nothing to get worked up over."

"David, Nastassia. I told David that I love him."

Nastassia couldn't help but to laugh into the phone. "You are one sick puppy. What did he say?"

"He said he loves me too."

"I've died and gone to hell. Just don't tell me that you let him put
his meat into the taco?"

"Could you be any more perverted about the situation, Na$?"

"Oh, you did!" she exclaimed, ignoring the pain shooting through her leg from her ankle. "You were waiting until marriage!"

"I still am." Camille's eyes searched the room to make sure that no one was paying her too close attention. "Shit, I wanted to so bad but that damn conscience thing got me and there was like the WWF Smack Down going on between my mind and my body and…"

"Spare me the theatrics, Cam. So you didn't have sex with the guy. Feel proud of yourself. Tell me how you worked the entrance."

"Let's just say that I shouldn't have worn the silver dress." she sighed into the phone.

"You wore the silver dress? The same dress that I told you not to leave the house in because it's so short that if you bend over the world will be able to see your assets? Enough of you are already showing with that jagged cut!"

"Oops."

"Oops, my ass, Camille!"

"I'll talk to you about it later." Camille stated as she noticed
someone moving in her direction. "I gotta go."

"No! We'll talk about this now! You're my responsibility when you're not at your parents and…"

"Bye, Stassia."

"If you hang up on me…" Nastassia's voice came to an abrupt end as Camille shut the top of her cellular phone and dropped it into her hand bag.

"Cammy! I'm so glad that you could make it!" Jessica Simpson
exclaimed, wrapping her arms around the provocatively dressed young woman before her. "I kept asking Nick if he had seen you but you know how he is when he's with his guys. How are you?"

"I'm doing pretty well. How about you?"

"Oh, great. We signed on for another season of Newlyweds but at this point I don't know if we should still be calling it that." Jessica
took a step back to observe her friend's dress. "That's hot, girl."

"No, I like what you have on." Camille shook her head as two young men began to stroll passed them.

"Oh! I didn't know you were coming!" Jessica turned slightly to
embrace the taller man that was wearing a bulky jacket, t-shirt, trucker hat, jeans and sneakers. "Have you met Camille before?"

Justin turned to see whom it was she was talking about. A moment ago he had been in a rush to get to the bar with Trace but now his mind was in other places. She stood there in her dress that hugged her curves in all of the right places looking like something right out of a dream. He had seen sexier but she was sexy enough for his tastes. Trace looked her over as well before patting Justin on the shoulder and continuing on to get his alcohol.

"No." he swallowed, unable to look away from her. "No, I've never met her before."

"Well, Justin Timberlake meet Camille Henderson." Jessica introduced them.

"Nice to meet you," Justin extended his hand. "You're one of Jess's friends?"

Jessica shook her head slowly. Where were the cameras when she wasn't the one saying something idiotic? "Camille is the girl that everyone's been talking about. Number one single in the country?"

"Oh, shit. Sorry, sweetheart, I've been a little out of the loop
recently with all of my touring." he apologized as she shook his hand gently. "It's really nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Camille nodded her head as Nick called out for his wife in the distance.

Jessica sighed regretfully. "I'll try to catch up with you a little
later on, girl. You try to have fun though. Maybe Justin can
introduce you to some more people?"

"No problem." Justin nodded in agreement as she waved goodbye to them both and scurried away. "She's a great person."

"Yeah," Camille agreed, "So, um…"

"I kind of fucked up this first impression thing. I'm really sorry
about not knowing who you are but I've been really busy and…"

"It's fine."

"…You’re really beautiful." Justin finished with a sincere tone in his voice.

Camille felt her face growing hot and she knew that she was blushing. She hadn't realized that neither of them had released the other's hand until he started to back up and she felt herself moving along with him.

"Can I get you something to drink or something?" he offered.

"I'm not twenty-one yet."

"So that's a yes?"

"Justin, I don't…"

"How about you come with me up to the bar so there's no chance that I'll slip you a rufey or something? Will that make you feel safer about it?"

Camille shrugged, defeated, "I guess."

"Cool," Justin replied, turning to lead her through the masses of people compacted into the dance hall. Camille followed close behind though it wasn't like she really had a choice. She was a little weary that if he let her hand go she would be engulfed by the sea of humans around her.

"Hey, Camille!" Beyonce Knowles waved as she passed by in the opposite direction with boyfriend, Jay-Z, in tow. "I'm loving that outfit girl and the new single is amazing!"

"Thanks, B!" Camille called back as she and Justin approached the bar. There were so many people circulating that she was literally pressed up behind his back as he leaned over the counter of the bar.

"Yo, Jo-Jo! What's popping, man?" Justin called to the bartender jovially.

"Timberlake, long time no see. What's been happening with you?" the tall bald white man with the goatee wearing a muscle shirt replied while drying off a glass with a crisp white towel.

"Not too much. Last time I saw you were at Kutcher's party. You've been hard to track down."

"Much needed vacation, brother. You work one circuit and then the rest of the pack wants you on their team. You know what I mean?"

"Definitely." Justin replied, carefully directing Camille around and in front of him to keep her out of the path of traffic. "You're not getting run over back there are you? You're a little girl."

"Thanks for noticing." she replied, turning her back to him, his arms on either side of her.

"You ever drank before?"

"No,"

"All right. Yo, Jo-Jo? Can you hook me up with a scotch on the rocks and a strawberry daiquiri for this beautiful young woman before me?"

"No problem." Jo- Jo nodded immediately setting to work on the drinks.

"Go light on the alcohol for her. She's not a drinker." Justin added as Camille shifted back around to face him.

"Is this how you pick up all your women? Pin them up against the bar and buy them drinks?"

"That's cute." Justin laughed, "No, they usually approach me so this is a little bit different."

"Oh, so it's new game?"

"Guess so. Is it working?"

"No," Camille shook her head while smiling.

Justin reached behind her to retrieve his drink from the bartender and took a sip from the glass. "Damn, do I suck that bad at it?"

"Not necessarily." she lifted the glass from his fingertips and
brought it to her lips. "I just think that you chose the wrong
victim."

Justin watched silently as she consumed half of his drink before inhaling sharply between her teeth. "Why would you drink something like that?" she questioned, handing him the drink back.

"Burning?"

"Yeah. Gross."

"Mm, just in time for the daiquiri." he reached behind her again and handed her the cool iced beverage, once again watching her sip from the glass. "Is that better?"

Camille nodded, too relieved to feel embarrassed.

"So how did I choose the wrong `victim' as you put it?"

"I'm seeing someone right now."

"And?"

"You're trying to hook up with me, right?"

"Maybe," he smirked. "Not if you don't want me to."

"I have a question." Camille cleared her throat, the small of her
back against the bar. "Who told you that that funky Pony trucker hat was appealing?"

"Nobody told me it was appealing but…"

"You think there's a reason that no one told you that?" she couldn't help but to giggle and Justin took the cue to remove his hat immediately. Camille took her bottom lip into her teeth and reached up to smooth her hand over his clean-cut fade. "Now that's hot."

"You think that's hot?"

"I wouldn't lie to you. Give the hat to Jo-Jo or burn it but don't
put it on anymore."

"Like you'll be around to stop me," he cracked, finishing off his
scotch and requesting another.

"True." she nodded, handing him her daiquiri. "Is that light on the alcohol?"

Justin sampled the drink before returning it to her. "I can't taste
anything. You're probably buzzed off of drinking half of my scotch, you lightweight."

"Hey! I've never drank before so I have probable cause," she pouted flirtatiously.

"Yeah, any old excuse. Don't worry about it, though. I'll teach you how to drink like a man before you're twenty-one."

"Not to hit you back with your own words but, um, like you'll be around."

"Shit, like the airlines say, `I'm everywhere you want to be.'"

Camille laughed again. "That was good game right there."

"Was it?"

"Yeah,"

"I'm pretty bad when I wanna be." he smiled at the sound of her infectious laughter. She definitely had that girl-next-door quirky sex appeal to her. "So how long have you been seeing this mystery person?"

"Six months." Camille answered, every so often letting her eyes roam over his body.

"That's not a long time."

"It is for me."

He paused for a moment as he was served his second drink. "Would I know who it is?"

"David Banks from The Real World."

Justin nearly choked on his scotch, "You're dating one of those reality TV chumps?"

"Excuse me?" Camille scoffed, unable to believe that he would just blurt out a comment like that.

"Wait; hold on, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant to say." he
apologized. "How did a match like that come to be?"

"Don't worry about it." she turned her head to observe the other celebrities partying it up around them. Why was she still even
talking to him?

"Seriously, Chamomile, I'm sorry." Justin moved slightly to catch her eyes with his own. "You forgive me?"

"What did you just call me?"

"Chamomile? Was that wrong? You want me to just call you Camille?"

"So we're on a pet name basis already? Moving fast there, Timberlake?"

"Well, you can give me one too if it will even up the score." he
settled peacefully.

"So I can call you Jackass, then?" Camille looked him over for a sign of weakness.

"You think I'm a jackass?"

"Not necessarily. The term may stick if you're just trying to get
into my pants but if not then a more endearing pet name could be pondered on."

"Then think of something nicer to call me `cause I'm not trying to get into your pants. Deal?"

"Yeah, that's straight." she agreed, finishing off her drink.

"Besides, you're not wearing pants. It's more like I'm trying to get under your dress and from this viewpoint that won't be too difficult because its so short that most of the job is already done for me."

"Oh, my God! You are so bad! I thought you were a nice kid!"

"You didn't respond to nice." Justin retorted, giving her the once over with his eyes as lethargically as possible.

"Wow," Camille was momentarily speechless.

"Wow," he mocked her, setting down his new drink when he saw her fidgeting with her fingers. Casually he reached over and took her right hand into his hands and began to massage her fingers. "Tense?"

"High-stress workplace." she cocked her head to the side as he masterfully loosened the muscles of her hand. "This part of the game for you?"

"Nah, I just like you and I want you to be comfortable." he kept up his focus, "So you're serious about this David?"

"You should stop now," she warned.

"Why?"

"Because the hand has the most nerve…"

"…Nerve endings which makes it the most sensitive part of the body." Justin completed her sentence for her, slowly releasing her
hand. "It's turning you on."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't need to."

"Hmm, all right, it's been really nice talking to you but there are a
lot of people here that I should be socializing with so…" she started to move away from him.

"What do you have lined up after this? Magazine spreads or anything?" Justin interrupted before she could simply walk away.

"Photo shoots with Italian Vogue, Rolling Stone, People…you name it and I'm on the cover but seriously, Justin, I'm going to go right
now."

"Making you nervous?"

"No!" she paused, "Maybe."

"Will I see you again?"

"Let me put it like this," she stepped closer to him forcing him to take in a quick breath, "if we do see each other again I will be sure to wear pants that are so tight it would take a miracle of God for you to get into them because obviously dresses are too easy for you."

"Nice," Justin commented as she walked away from him and disappeared into the masses of people. "Jo-Jo, I think I'm going to marry that girl."

"She's nice looking. Kind of feisty though." the bartender replied.

"I like that." he stood up straight and reached atop the bar where he had set down his Pony trucker hat. Realizing that it wasn't there he shook his head and cracked out his cellular phone pressing number one on speed dial. He listened to the ringing for a few moments before the familiar voice of Nelly picked up. "Yo, dirty, where you at?"

"I'm on the floor, kid. What's up?"

"You know a girl named Camille Henderson? Singer?" he asked, surveying the room.

"Oh, that's that new tender on the charts. Her album should be released like a month from now. Why, you want to meet her?"

"Just did."

"You like her?"

"Shit, man. She made me want to give my mom's a buzz and tell her I just met my wife."

"Damn, yo, did you get the digits?" Nelly questioned.

"Nah, but trust me on this, I'll see her again. I'll get my people on it."

"Do what you do, playa, but in the mean time there ain't no reason for you not to be out here on the floor with me macking all these fly honeys."

"All the honeys!" Justin laughed into the phone. "I'll be there in a sec, partner. One."

////

"So that's what initiated the whole thing." Nastassia concluded her introduction to the story. "Camille called me from her limousine giggling `cause she had jacked the kid's hat. She didn't like it but she was making sure that he never wore that horrid accessory again. She showed up at my house wearing it with her little cute silver dress and cheesing like you wouldn't believe. At that point I knew there'd be some shit…"

How much shit?