July 20, 2002 “I don’t know, Justin,” Chris said, eyeing Justin warily. “I’m not so sure I should get involved. If it ends badly, I’ll have both you and C hating me.” Justin rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. “Chris, I’m not going to hate you, and JC won’t even know you helped, ok?” “I still think it’s a bad idea.” “Come on, Chris,” Justin whined. “It’s the only chance I have of getting him back.” “What if he doesn’t want you back, Justin?” Justin winced, and Chris saw the flicker of pain in his blue eyes. “I’m sorry, man,” he apologized, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean that. I just…I’m afraid it’s going to end badly again, man, and I just don’t think—“ “Forget it,” Justin snapped, shoving the chair out from underneath him and storming to the door. “Thanks for all the support, Kirkpatrick,” he shouted before slamming his way out of the house. Chris heard the tires of Justin’s motorcycle squealing in his driveway and sighed. Stubborn little asshole. July 23, 2002 “Justin, I’m in Russia,” Lance said slowly. “There’s no way I can help you plan a party, man.” “Come on, Lance,” Justin pleaded. “I know you can’t be here, but just…help me out, man.” “I can’t. Not to mention the fact that I don’t think it’s a very good idea.” He spoke the last words quietly, closing his eyes and waiting for Justin to blow up at him. “What the fuck IS IT with you people?” Justin shouted, and yep, there it was. “Why is it not a good idea? I love him, Lance! I screwed up big time, and I want to make it right.” “Are you sure that’s what he wants?” Justin promptly hung up the phone, burying his face in his hands. July 25, 2002 “Joe, come on man. You’re my last hope.” “I think you can plan a party by yourself, Justin.” “I need someone to get him here! I can’t very well call him up and say ‘Hey C, what’s up. I’m throwing a party for your birthday. It’s to make up for being such an asshole and for pushing away the best thing in my life. August 10, 9:00 pm. Be there or be square.’ I mean really Joe.” Joey sighed, running his fingers through his newly-lightened hair. “J, man…I just…” “Fuck!” Justin yelled, slamming his fist against the wall. “Let me guess. You don’t think it’s a good idea.” “Well…yeah.” “WHY? Is there something that someone’s not telling me here, because when my three best friends advise me not to try and get JC back, it starts to raise suspicion.” “Justin…it’s not as easy as that,” Joey said. “You can’t just throw him a party and expect him to come running to you with open arms. You hurt him, man. You hurt him bad.” Justin closed his eyes, remembering the night six months ago that he ended it with JC. “Hey, baby,” JC cooed, wrapping his arms around Justin’s waist. His breath smelled of whiskey, and Justin turned his head, pulling out of the embrace. “You’re drunk.” JC grinned lazily. “Not drunk. Just…happy.” Justin rolled his eyes. “Happy is JC speak for drunk.” JC frowned suddenly, putting his hands on his hips. “What’s your problem?” “Nothing,” Justin said, avoiding JC’s eyes. His cell phone began to vibrate against his leg, and he whipped it out of his pocket, trying to hide his smile when he saw the name blinking on the display. “Hello?” he said quietly, turning away from JC. “Yeah…not yet…no, I know. That’s the plan…it’s not that easy! Half an hour…half an hour! Ok. Yeah…see you then. Bye.” He clicked the phone off and stuck it back into his pants, turning around to face a very angry-looking JC. “Who was that?” “No one.” “Who, Justin?” “No one. Listen, JC, I think we need to talk.” JC had been crushed. He’d cried against Justin’s chest for twenty five minutes, shoving Justin hard when he felt the buzz of Justin’s cell phone against his thigh. “He was crushed, Justin,” Joey said, breaking Justin from his thoughts. “He just…he was lost without you, man.” “Was lost? You make it sound like he doesn’t love me anymore.” Joey was silent, and Justin’s heart sunk to his toes. “Spill it, Joey,” he said shakily. “Justin—“ “Tell me!” “He has a girlfriend,” Joey said quietly, and he heard Justin gasp at the other end of the receiver. “A what?” “A girlfriend, Justin. Her name is Joella.” Justin couldn’t speak. He slumped against the wall, eyes burning. “Justin? Are you there, man?” “I gotta go,” he breathed, clicking the phone off and sliding to the floor. A girlfriend? This called for drastic measures. July 25, 2002 “You’ll be there, right?” “J, you know I’ll be there. I’m gonna perform, remember?” “Just making sure. You’re my last hope. This has to work.” “I can’t believe I’m doing this for you, dirty. Don’t you think it’s a little…fucked up?” “Why?” “Aww, come on, J! You broke up with JC because you and I were—“ “I know, ok?” Justin said. “I know. But JC doesn’t know that. And I don’t want him to. I messed up, man. You know that, I know that. Fuck, the whole world knows that!” “You got my word, dirty. I ain’t tellin him a thing.” “Thanks, man. I’ll see you Saturday.” “Peace.” July 26, 2002: Challenge for the Children Party at The Groove “Is his girlfriend here?” Justin asked, craning his neck, trying to spot JC. “No, Justin,” Chris said. “Not yet anyway.” Justin sighed and took another drink of his beer, sloshing it around in the cup. “Still planning that big party?” “Nah,” Justin said, staring at the crowd of girls on the dance floor below. “You’re right. Not a good idea.” Chris narrowed his eyes at the younger man. “You’ve got something up your sleeve, Timberlake. I know you.” Justin shrugged, finishing off the last swig of beer and pushing himself off the railing, leaving Chris alone in the corner. July 27th, 2002: Skills Challenge It took a lot of convincing to get JC to walk out with Justin, but he finally agreed, and the crowd when wild when they appeared together. JC couldn’t help but smile at how adorable Justin looked with his white bucket hat pulled low on his eyes, dribbling the basketball like he was born to do it. He had to admit that seeing Justin for the first time in six months brought back to the surface everything he’d ever felt for the younger man. Joella was courtside, trying to get his attention, but he pretended not to see her and instead watched Justin’s warm-up. He shot a few hoops himself, missing all but one, blushing when Justin patted him on the back. When Justin sat down next to him on the bench, his heart leapt to his throat. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. He wasn’t supposed to want him back. He was supposed to hate him for breaking his heart, for tossing him aside like he meant nothing to him. But instead, he was watching Justin’s every move, following him around like a lost puppy.
He was ready to smack himself upside the head and shout, “Idiot!” JC looked over his shoulder to find a very annoyed Joella, tossing her long blonde hair and folding her arms across her chest. She knew all about his history with Justin, and JC knew it bothered her to see them together. He looked at her apologetically before turning back to the game, laughing at something Justin whispered in his ear. July 27th, 2002: Pleasure Island “JC!” Justin called from across the club, making his way through the crowd of people. “Hey man, what’s up?” JC smiled at Justin, whose own smile faded when JC stepped back, revealing who Justin assumed to be his girlfriend. “Justin,” he said, “I’d like you to meet Joella.” Justin felt like he was frozen in time, like everything had suddenly stopped moving and he was trapped in a place that he didn’t want to be. He nodded at her, forcing a smile, and she smiled back. Justin noticed that her smile seemed to be forced as well. “We were just about to hit the dance floor, Justin,” Joella said, tugging on JC’s hand. “It was nice meeting you.” Justin decided that he hated her. When JC turned over his shoulder and mouthed “I’m sorry”, Justin’s heart broke. July 28th, 2002: Celebrity Basketball Game “I suck at basketball,” JC laughed, and Nelly laughed right along with him, grabbing JC’s wrist and tickling him playfully. “I’m just terrible, man.” “That’s ok, C,” Nelly said, wrapping an arm around JC’s shoulder. “You have a fucking amazing voice, dude. We all got some talent, man. It’s all good.” JC couldn’t help but blush, and Justin fumed from the sidelines. He looked back at JC and Nelly, who seemed a little bit too cozy for his taste. Finally, the little love-fest broke up, and JC left the game to sit on the bench and take a break. Justin let his eyes wander to the side of the court, where he noticed Joella rubbing JC’s shoulders and arms. His stomach tightened and he nearly tripped over his own feet. He smiled to himself when JC shrugged Joella’s hands off his back, laughing out loud when she stormed to the back of the arena. When Nelly headed back to his side of the bench, Justin , still angry over the incident earlier, stalked over, leaning down and hissing, “What the fuck was that?” Nelly looked at him, obviously confused. “What you talkin’ bout, dirty?” “Flirting much? Jesus, I asked you to get him to my house, not fuck him on the basketball court.” Nelly glared into Justin’s eyes. “Fuck off, man. I’m tryin’ to do you a favor here, and this is how you act? I wouldn’t fucking do that to you, J. You’s my dirty, man! I ain’t lookin’ to fuck you over.” Justin’s eyes soften, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, dude. I just…god, I really, really love him.” Nelly nodded. “I know you do, man.” Nelly leaned forward and pulled Justin into a hug; nobody noticed the soft kissed he placed on Justin’s neck. No one except JC, that is. July 28th, 2002, Planet Hollywood “He won’t even talk to me,” Justin complained, downing his third drink in a row. “Fuck, Nelly. This is fucked up.” “Calm down, J,” Nelly said, eyes scanning the room for JC. And there we was, more intoxicated than Nelly had ever seen him, dirty dancing with three different girls, none of which were Joella. He shook his head, feeling sudden pity for Justin. It seemed obvious to everyone but Justin that JC was happy with his life right now—his life without Justin in it. “Yo, Nelly!” JC called, stumbling towards the rapper. “What up, yo?” Nelly had to laugh at JC’s ghetto speak, because he only heard it from him when JC was drunk. “Not much, dirty. How’s it hangin’?” “A little t’the left,” JC giggled, grabbing himself. S’hot in…so hot in herre… JC’s face lit up and he clapped Nelly on the back. “Dude, it’s your song! I fucking love this song!” Justin watched as JC danced up on Nelly, Nelly throwing his head back and calling for a mic. Aw hell no, Justin thought, plastering himself to the other side of Nelly. The three men danced together as Nelly belted out his hit song, JC and Justin shooting each other glares over Nelly’s shoulders. After the song was over, JC wandered back to the throng of women that were staring at him, gulping from the glass of wine he held in his hand and pouring it full with the bottle he held in the other. Justin wiped at the tears that stung his eyes, refusing to cry over JC. It was, after all, his own fault that he was in this situation, although he wondered what happened to suddenly ruin JC’s attitude towards him. “Yo, J, what’s up?” came a voice from behind him, and he turned to find Trace grinning at him. He smiled sadly, hugging Trace. “Not much, man. Not much.” “You ok, dude? You seem a little…out of it. You haven’t danced with one chick tonight.” Justin rolled his eyes. “Could have something to do with the fact that I’m not straight, but I don’t know.” Trace laughed. “Dude, I know, but that never stopped you before.” He looked at Justin a moment before continuing. “It’s about JC, right?” Justin nodded. “Everything was going great, man. We were talking, laughing, ya know. It was perfect. Then halfway through the basketball game, he stops talking to me. Won’t even look at me. I don’t get it.” “Talk to him.” Justin snorted. “Right.” When he looked, Trace was gone, up talking to JC. He was going to kill that little bastard. When he saw JC walking towards him, he decided that sending Trace a basket of fruit was more the thing to do. “Over here,” JC said, gesturing to a dark corner of the bar. “Now or never.” Justin nodded dumbly, following JC. “What?” “What?” Justin repeated. “Trace said you wanted to talk to me. What.” Justin heaved a sigh, running a hand over his new curls. “Why, JC? I don’t get it. Everything’s been grea all weekend, and suddenly today you won’t even look at me.” JC laughed bitterly, shaking his head and twirling one finger in his glass. “Nelly’s got the covered, J.” Justin’s heart stopped, his eyes widening. “What did you say?” “I saw the two of you today. Hugging. Saw Nelly kiss your neck. So it was him, huh? You broke up with me for him?” “No, JC, it wasn’t like that,” Justin choked, trying to breathe. “It’s all right, J. I get it now. No way Nelly would ever out you, because that would mean the end of his career. Me? The career means nothing to me without you. I know why you chose him.” And with that, JC walked away, gathering at least five women on his arm and walking out the back way. August 8th, 2002: JC’s Birthday C-
Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. 26? Man, you're getting up there.
I miss you.
Love,
J JC tossed the two-way onto the couch cushion, refusing to page Justin back. But the glare on the display was gleaming at him, and he sighed in frustration, picking it back up and pushing the tiny buttons. J--
Thanks. How's your dirty Nelly?
C Justin nearly jumped out of his skin when his two-way vibrated on the table. He read the message, tears blurring his vision. Nelly--
Fix this. Please, man. You're the only one who can help.
J Five minutes later, he got the reply. I’ll do what I can, J. Have the house ready on the 10th. I’ll make sure he’s there.
Yer dirty Nelly Justin sighed, hoping against hope that Nelly could pull this off. JC stared at the phone as it rang, refusing to answer it. “This is JC. Leave a message.” “Yo, JC man, it’s Nelly. Happy birthday, dude! Anyway, just hittin’ ya up, seeing whatcha up to on Saturday night dude. There’s this ragin’ party at Diddy’s pad, checkin’ to see if you wanna join me. Might be fun, I dunno. Hit me back, dirty.” “Hello?” “JC? That you, dude?” “Yeah, man. It’s me.” “What up, yo?” “Why are you calling me?” “Why not?” “I know about you and Justin, man.” Nelly was silent on the other end of the line. “And I don’t blame you, because you didn’t know, and you and I were never that tight in the first place, but dude…it hurts, man. That he chose me over you.” Nelly let out a sigh, feeling very sorry for his friend. “C, man, I didn’t know. I mean…I knew, but only at the end, man. I wouldn’t have—I’m just really sorry, dude.” “It’s ok. Not your fault. I should have known.” “JC—“ “So about that party. I’m in.” August 10th, 2002: 3:00 pm “He’s coming?” “No guarantees, J. But he’s coming out with me. I’ll do my best, dude.” “Thanks.” 8:30 PM “Damn, JC, looking good,” Nelly said, adding a low whistle. JC’s jeans hung low on his hips, black belt wrapped around the outside of his tight, sleeveless white shirt. “Thanks, dude,” JC laughed, sliding into the car next to Nelly. “So we’re off, then.” “Looks that way,” Nelly said, speeding down the road. JC frowned when they reached the familiar territory of Justin’s neighborhood. “Diddy lives over here?” When Nelly didn’t answer, JC’s heart stopped. “Fuck,” he muttered, looking over at Nelly, who was staring straight ahead, trying to hide a grin. “You fucker,” JC said. “You set me up.” “No I didn’t.” “Don’t lie!” JC shouted. “You fucking set me up!” “JC, I’m doing a favor for a friend, ok?” JC scoffed. “A friend, huh? Last time I checked, friends didn’t fuck.” Nelly sucked in a sharp breath. “Dude, that’s harsh man. J and I have been through for four months now. We both knew it wouldn’t last. Not when he loves you so much.” “Ha! Loves me? Right. He really knows how to show it.” “He was scared, C. Jesus, don’t you get that?” “Yeah. Scared. Right.” “Just talk to him, C. OK? I’ll leave my cell on. You wanna leave, you call me. I’ll be here. But please, JC. Just…don’t throw this away ok, dude? Dirty loves you.” JC sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “Fine.” 9:00 pm Justin heard the doorbell and his heartbeat immediately sped up, his stomach doing flips. He stood up and smoothed his jeans, walking slowing to the door. It swung open, and he half smiled at JC, who was standing there looking quite pissed off. Justin stepped aside and JC brushed past him, settling into the couch, still frowning. He looked around the room, suddenly noticing the way the light flickered against the walls. He took a deep breath, smiling slight at the scent of vanilla that wafted through the room. Justin and his vanilla candles. It never failed. “C,” he heard Justin so, so quietly he barely even heard it. “Please, just…hear me out, ok?” Justin climbed onto the couch next to JC, careful not to get too close. “This,” he said, waving his hand in the air. “It was supposed to be a huge party. With everyone we know, with everyone we want to know…with everyone I could possibly get here. But no one would help me. Everyone said it was a bad idea, that it would end badly…but I just couldn’t believe that, JC. I couldn’t believe that anything between you and I could end badly…” JC looked into Justin’s eyes, now wet with unshed tears, then looked away for fear he would cry himself. “But then I realized that throwing you a big-ass party would just make you think that I was flaunting my fame, or my money, or myself. And JC, it’s not like that. I swear to you, it’s not like that. God, I’m nothing without you.” “Did you say that to Nelly, too?” JC said quietly. Justin winced, although he knew he deserved that. “Nelly…he didn’t mean anything to me, JC. He’s one of my closest friends, and that’s all. But at that time…fuck, JC. I was so fucking scared. People were staring to notice, and I just…I couldn’t handle it. I don’t want people to know, JC. And Nelly…with him, there was no chance of anyone finding out. I just…I’m so fucking scared that everyone will hate us. And I know that’s a stupid excuse, but god, C, I don’t want to lose everything we’ve worked for.” “We?” “Yeah,” Justin said, reaching his hand out hesitantly and covering JC’s. “We. I wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for you, C. You’re everything to me.” “Justin—“ “Please, JC. Please. I love you so fucking much,” Justin choked, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I need you. No more hiding. I promise. No more beards, no more flirting…I love you, JC. Only you.” “Joella isn’t going to like this,” JC murmured, running his hand over Justin’s head. Justin laughed through his tears, nuzzling JC’s neck. “It’s her own fault. She knew about us.” “How did you know?” “It was obvious,” Justin laughed. “I couldn’t lie to her. I still loved you.” Justin tilted his head up, eyes filled with fear. “Loved?” JC smiled softly. “Love, Justin. I love you. Always have, always will, you little bastard.” “Happy birthday, JC,” Justin whispered against JC’s mouth, moaning when JC’s tongue stroked against his own. “The happiest.”