"You got back together!?" I heard him yell as he jumped up from his position on the bed, the livid expression in his eyes hinting at the terror I was about to experience. Another fun Saturday night with Justin Timberlake. This was hardly the picture of every teenage girl’s fantasy.

Still, I sat, slumped on the edge of the bed, staring blankly into the taupe carpet much like JC had before, wondering how many people had walked over it. I tried valiantly to lift my gaze from the fascinating walked-in pattern of the carpet but couldn’t. Maybe because I didn’t want to have to face Justin. I knew what I had done was wrong. He had been right all along. Empty relationships? I’ve definitely had a few. The current situation with JC included.

"What the hell possessed YOU to get back together with HIM?" He exclaimed as he frantically paced in front of the bed, that vein on the side of his head pulsing. Yeah, I definitely didn’t like Justin mad. It wasn’t his most attractive look. By far.

He stopped his pacing and I swallowed loudly. I didn’t cower back as he approached me with that raged look in his eyes. I simply watched him with wide eyes and steadily kept my post. I was one brave little soldier.

"Would you like to explain Riley?" he asked, the controlled tone of his voice scaring me even more than his yelling had before. "I would really like to know what your little plan is here. Because last time I checked, you just liked using JC as your occasional little fuck-toy…Have things changed?"

Nope. Not really.

I shrugged again, adverting my eyes from his searing glance, but still holding my ground at the edge of the bed, poised to jump from my position if need be. I sighed as he turned away from me. "I don’t know, Justin. I think it might actually work this t–"

"Bullshit, Riley!" he said as he turned aburptly towards me, causing my heart to jump straight from my chest to my throat. He rushed towards me, his hands now tight on my biceps. "Don’t forget who you’re talking to here. I’m not JC. You don’t have to lie to ME."

"Okay, okay," I muttered as he started to calm. Well, the pulsing vein was gone. It was a start. "He was just so upset and he was telling me how he loved me…" I trailed off, gathering my thoughts, trying to phrase things in a Justin-friendly fashion. "And I started to feel something again, I started to believe him. I wanted that relationship he talked about. And he looked like he was going to cry, Justin. I just couldn’t do it anymore. Plus I just told him I loved him…And technically, I do. I mean in a friend kind of way so, I don’t think that counts as getting back together…"

He sighed deeply, taking the spot beside me on the bed. He fell backwards onto the mattress and I could almost hear him cursing me in his mind. I fell backwards too, resting my head against his shoulder. He let me, cradling me against his body, shielding me like he always did.

And I cried. I cried because when I was with him, I felt something. Something that I couldn’t duplicate anywhere else, no matter how hard I tried. I wanted that same connection with JC again, I really did. But it wasn’t really there anymore. And maybe that’s why I cried.

"Justin," she whispered towards me, kissing my gently. "Is everything all right?" She watched me intently, her words genuine, those beautiful hazel eyes of hers radiating love. She lay beside me in bed, her head against my chest as we talked, a pleasant change from our usual activities.

"Yeah, Ash," I answered quietly, kissing her forehead. "I’ve just really had a rough couple of days." I smiled as she ran her hand through my hair gently, she felt good to me. The way it was supposed to feel.

"I know, baby," she said softly, sitting up beside me. Her gaze was concerned, her forehead creasing as she pushed her honey colored locks away from her eyes. "I’m really starting to get worried about you. You guys have been stretched so thin lately. Especially with this new CD and tour, you’re getting less rest than usual." She sighed deeply as I stroked her hair. It felt good to actually be able to comfort someone –even if it was over something trivial- without them pushing you away; I liked being the strong one for once.

"Ash, we’re fine. Things will die down soon, I’m sure." I kissed her cheek, making a trail down the column of her neck, causing a light-hearted giggle to emerge from her tiny frame.

"I know. That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop worrying. It seems like things are getting harder and harder for us. And I miss you, Justin. I mean I’m trying but this isn’t as easy as I thought it would be." She exhaled and I held her close to my chest, feeling her breathe against me. She made me feel needed.

"I know. How’s tour going?" I asked, changing the subject. Ashleigh herself, was very successful in the music industry making up one third of the leading female pop sensation in the country.

"It’s been better than expected. The fans have been crazy so far, I mean literally insane. But other than that, it’s been a pretty good tour, response has been awesome. It feels good to be out there performing again." She smiled, her eyes lighting as she spoke. She made me remember why I wanted to be in the business in the first place. She truly loved it. All of it. I missed that feeling.

"Do you remember when we met?" she whispered, moments later. "I remember. I walked into you at the VMA after party and I spilled my martini on you," she laughed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Typical me."

"I remember," I admitted, laughing. I closed my eyes, picturing the way she had looked that night. Ravishing as usual, dressed in a skimpy little red dress, her long honey-brown tresses falling down her bare back. "You looked amazing in that little red dress of yours with the strings and lace. The first second I saw you, I knew you were the one for me," I laughed kissing her lips.

That was only half the story. It was true the second I saw her I knew she was the one. But not in the same sense. Johnny and I had had a little talk that morning and reached the agreement that I needed a girlfriend. A very public girlfriend, one to take the place that Britney had filled so well.

And well, as she had said, Ashleigh ran into me. Literally. And I was stunned by her beauty. Those amazing big hazel eyes, that charismatic smile. I wanted to get to know her. And maybe, under different circumstances, I could have loved her. But there was pressure. Inquiring minds figured they had the right to know. And I ended up internally almost despising her–maybe not her but what she represented. The fame. The lies.

"I love you, Justin," she said quietly, kissing me. "You mean the world to me."

I smiled. "I love you, too, Ashleigh. I love you, too."

"I’ll call you when I get there," she laughed pushing JC away as he pouted. I groaned. If this is what the next few months were going to be like, I prayed a rabid fan would slaughter me. He grabbed her, lifting her up and spinning her around, that almost obnoxious "flirt giggle" escaping from her full lips.

"You only stayed for two days!" he whined as he sat on the bed and hung his head. "I never get to see you!" Oh God. Did we have to go through this again. JC had been whining incessantly for the past half-hour. I never get to see you anymore. But I’ll miss you. When are you coming back? Please don’t leave me. I love you. You’re my everything. He made me want to stick my finger down my throat. As if *that* would stop this nauseating feeling.

"I know, I know. But Clark and Mac are waiting for me at home. If I don’t get back soon, Clark will have turned the loft into some gay bar…" she sighed before laughing. She ran her long fingers through her ebony tresses, her dark eyes dancing as she answered him playfully, a bright smile playing over her full, pink lips. She was such the actress. "I can only imagine the men I’m going to have to shoo away from there when I get back. He’s more into the tall Italian types right now…Maybe Joey would like to stop by… And I can’t miss any work JC. I mean I may be the boss but if I leave Aaron in there alone, all hell will break loose."

JC laughed, kissing her gently before he let her go. He watched her with his dark blue eyes, ever so intently, absorbing each and every one of the words that came from her lips. "I love you," he whispered just loud enough for me to hear, and I cringed as she replied.

"I love you, too," she whispered, pressing a kiss into his forehead before she grabbed her bag and leather purse. It was a classic "Riley" ensemble. Black stiletto heals, crisp black pants and a fitted wrap-around peach sweater, her tresses hanging in loose waves down her back. She had a style about her: simple but romantic, clearly feminine.

She smiled softly. "I’ll call you, okay?" That was a lie. He’d call her. Like five seconds after she left. Yup, in about five-point-eight seconds, Riley would have a new message on her cell phone. Guarantee it. Maybe he and I have that in common: we were unbelievably pathetic; we needed her. Desperately.

He nodded, watching her as I opened the door. She waved shortly, throwing him one of her million-dollar smiles before looking up to me. "I don’t want to hear one word," she muttered. "I heard you and Ashley through the wall last night, so don’t you dare even start on me."

I just smirked, shaking my head. "I don’t have to say anything. You already know."

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