Beautiful piano music filled the air of the stuffy hotel meant for the rich.

JC Chasez wandered around the lobby until his eyes fell on her.

She sat at the piano, unpoised, unfaded by the eyes on her, looking like she knew they were staring. Which she probably did.

He plopped down in one of the chairs and stared at the mysterious beauty.

"Are you just going to sit and stare?"

"Who, me? How’d you know I’m here?" he questioned.

"I can just tell," she said, not looking up or even taking her eyes off the piano.

JC didn’t say anything else to her. She’s beautiful.

Fifteen minutes later, the woman got up to leave.

"Wait!" JC called after her.

"Yeah. What."

"What’s your name?"

"Why would you care."

"I just wanted to know, God."

"Timber," she turned and the light picked up a glint in her eyes.

"I’m --"

"JC. Joshua Scott Chasez. You’re not the first famous person I’ve met, if you’re wondering why I’m not freaking out. And I’m not into pop or whatever the heck they call that pitiful music you sing."

"What’s with your eyes?"

"You’re real polite. They’re contacts. I have to be going now. You’ve found out my name. Mission accomplished."

"Wait, wait. Here’s my cell phone number and my e-mail address," JC said, fumbling with a paper and scribbling sonmething on it.

"Yeah. Well. Maybe I’ll see you around."

"Yeah. See you," he said. *******

"I, uh, I ... met a, a girl," JC said, knowing they’d give him some sort of jaded flack.

"Really. Name?" Christopher Kirkpatrick asked.

"Uhm, Timber."

"Tiber? Like Timber-lake?"

"Yes." "What’s she look like?" 17-year-old Justin Timberlake asked.

"Blonde hair, pierced eyebrow, and she has contacts with stars on them. I think they were stars; I never actually got close enough to really see."

"Ooh, piercings, I like it," Joesph Fatone teased.

"Oh, quit it, Joe."

"How’d you meet her?" 19-year-old James Lance Bass inquired.

"She was playing piano in the lobby."

"That’s cool. Oh, hey, look. We’re on TV ... again."

"Again??? Don’t they ever get freaking tired of us?"

"Nope. Not my beautiful face," Justin said.

"Can it, Blondie."