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Date Posted: 23:06:17 04/10/03 Thu
Author: Kira
Subject: *Romance* Chapter 2 "Don't Be My Girlfriend" Feedback!

Gavrielle stood in front of the mirror of the department store dressing room. One hand poised, holding her hair away from her neck. The other smoothing out wrinkles in the pink silk slip dress. She nibbled on her bottom lip and scrutinized the fit in the mirror. The dress hung a bit loose, barely caressing her shapely hips. The top dipped low, displaying flirty hints of cleavage. The skirt was full, gliding down her thighs, past her knees, stopping at the middle of her calves. She sighed, green eyes sliding over her form. The hand dropped with frustration and she groaned. Carefully sliding out of the dress before grimacing at the price tag and returning it to the hanger.

Justin had called, his voice shaky and squeaky. He’d invited her to Los Angeles for four days, even cashed in some frequent flyer miles to get her a ticket. He was adorable, laughing nervously into the receiver and she couldn’t resist. She knew there was going to be a small barbeque at his friend’s house and a surprise party, but the other two days were open and Gavrielle was nervous. She transferred that anxiety into obsessively packing and planning for her trip. Gathering up the rest of her clothes, she slid out of the dressing room and wondered about the department, checking for any missing bargains.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Marta laughed, walking slowly down the isle. “What were we supposed to do today?”

Gavrielle stared blankly at her friend and then gasped, covering her mouth. “Shit. Lunch. I’m so sorry. I forgot all about it.”

The Hispanic woman smiled and nodded. “Good. Now you can pay for dinner with dessert. And you’re card better be empty because I’m hungy,” she patted her stomach.

Gavrielle shrugged, relenting without a fight.

“What are you fussing over now?”

“I’m going to LA, like, tomorrow, early and-“

Marta grabbed her arm. “You’re WHAT?!” she shouted, drawing the attention of other patrons.

Gavrielle shook her head. “I’m going to California for four days.”

“Um, how?”

“The guy I told you about he invited me.”

Marta squealed and pulled her back into the dressing room, leaning against the closed door. “Tell me everything. I mean I’m sure Mr. Mystery appreciates your silence and discretion, but I don’t think he wants you to kill your friend, so I suggest you spill the beans.”

Gavrielle checked her watch and groaned. “I have to pack and clean and I really don’t have time for this right now.”

“Make time.”

“I can’t.”

“Dinner,” Marta offered desperately.

“Dessert?”

“But of course.”

“Okay.”

“Who got the tickets?”

“He did.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Hotel.”

“He paying?”

“I am.”

“What’s his name?”

Gavrielle opened her mouth to answer, faltering abruptly before her eyes flashed with mirth and light, a lovesick sparkle. “Justin….Timberlake…”

Marta shrieked, slapping her hands over her mouth, breathing harshly into her palms.

**

Justin skidded own the shower, wet feet slapping along the tile on the bathroom floor. He shivered reflectively, standing in the middle of the foyer of his new home, naked and digging through boxes of discarded clothes. His blue eyes snuck a glance at the clock on the wall and he cursed and started throwing the clothes on the floor. He was looking for his favorite shirt and old blue tee shirt that he stole from his cousin, Nick. Everything was still packed in boxers scattered all over his sprawling home. Justin had been swamped, spending hours at the studio, being shadowed by reporters and photographers, draining himself creatively as well as professionally. He was elated with this process, this time in his life that let him step higher than he imagined, but it left him little time to unpack and get settled.

His mother handled most of it and he let her, giving her a credit card and telling her to decorate her heart out. He trusted her judgment and was glad that she took the burden off him.

With a grumble, he abandoned his fruitless search for his shirt and scrambled up the grand staircase, skidding into his bedroom. He heard the door open and close and JC screamed, his loud voice floating up to the vaulted ceilings. “I didn’t come over to see your white ass, man!”

Justin rolled his eyes and finished dressing. “Knock next time, fool!”

“You still nekkid?”

“Nope. Come on up.”

Justin rubbed some gel through his hair, twisting the burgeoning curls with a flick of his wrist and frowned. Backing up, he walked over to JC and bowed his head. JC ran his fingers through his hair, raking and tugging firmly and clapped him on the shoulder. “Looks good.”

JC leaned against the wall, his postured relaxed. His aviator lens perched on his forehead, long tangled locks feathering around his face. Justin gawked at him in awe, his eyes a flitting electric blue. He marveled at his calm demeanor before remembering that his was supposed to be a vacation. Justin was the one pushing himself, striving for more. He didn’t know how to not work.

“You’re bouncing off the walls, dog, chill.”

Justin’s eyed opened wider. “They want me to do the VMAs,” he said softly.

“Do?!” You mean like-“

“Perform.” He amended, walking out into the hallway and down the stairs.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Justin bit his lip and paced around his palatial living room, breaking down boxes to be taken for recycling. “Like my plat is so full right now. I mean a few months ago, it was fucking empty, but now. It’s just…overflowing,” he explained honestly, fear slipping into his voice.

JC nodded and tucked his sunglasses into the collar of his faded yellow tee shirt and plopped on the fluffy stripped sofa. He scratched thoughtfully at the scruff on his chin. “Do it,” he chanted, silvery eyes staring at a spot on the wall.

“Can I?”

“Shit man, you don’t have to ask me. Ask yourself.”

“Josh…”

“What? Oh squash that, Justin. I’m fine with it. Cross my heart.”

“You’re not.”

“No, you’re not! Don’t try to put this off on me. We knew you were going to do this before you even told us. Before the idea light up in your head.” His fists clenched. “We could see it in your eyes. After…the…well, Britney shit, I knew you had to do this and you were going to.” Then opened. “Just like I have to do what I have to do,” they clenched again.

Justin sat on the couch next to him, shoulders slouched with bewilderment. “It’s happening so fast. I didn’t want it this fast. They’re pushing for October when we agreed on January. Some shit about market research.”

“You can do it,” JC chuckled.

Justin smiled softly. “So can you.”

The air was quiet, filled with a nervous energy that that nearly crackled in the silence. But JC snapped to attention, dragging the boxes out of the living room and towards the garage. "Come on. Let's get this place lookin' livable before your lady gets here. I got some paintings in the car I can hang."

Justin groaned and picked up another stack of empty boxes, following JC into the garage. "Please tell me it's not the orange blocks again. I don't get what's so artistic about something Brianna can paint," Justin whined, stepping through the doors.

"Chill boy. They're beautiful, trust me. I worked a long time on these."

"Cool."

**

Gavrielle watched as the large automatic gates closed behind her, gliding swiftly over the paved driveway before closing with a quiet hiss. Her smoky green eyes took in Justin's beautiful estate. The grounds were peppered with small plants, budding palm trees and rows of leafy bushes. The foliage was thick, burying all signs of civilization and creating a realm of tranquility. It was lush and fragrant and tropical. Stepping onto the stone path, she followed it to the front porch, craning her head upwards to absorb his vast white house with grand peaks.

Gavrielle rang the doorbell before straightening her purse on her shoulder and smoothing out the wrinkles in her blue jean skirt and sea green shirt. She heard footsteps slapping on the floors and looked up as the door was swung open. Gavrielle smiled brightly, at Justin would was leaning against the doorway, out of breath in blue stripped polo shirt and ripped jeans. He licked his pink lips and grinned, suddenly sexier than anything she’d ever witnessed. "Hey, Justin," she replied breathlessly.

"Hey, sweetheart, you made it." Justin opened his arms and leaned forward, hugging her against him. His large hands slid up her and down her back, fingertips digging in with pleasurable pressure. He gave her a quick but gently huge, lifting her sandaled feet off the floor with a terse squeeze. “How was your flight?”

Gavrielle pulled back with and smiled, her cheeks stinging with heat. “Good, long, but good. Your house is beautiful, thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Thank you. Come on in. Are you hungry?”

“Um, alittle bit, yes.”

Justin led her down several wide hallways and into a large spacious kitchen detailed with stainless steels appliances. “Sorry about the lack of…well everything, but I just moved, like last weekend, so not much is done.”
Gavrielle shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll give you the grand tour later if you want.”

JC strolled into the kitchen carrying large canvases wrapped in thick protective plastic, stumbling through the doorway. “I think they’ll look great on the wall across from the window…” he explained, gently setting the paintings down, leaning them against the wall.

JC stepped back, placing his hands on his hips, panting alittle with the strain. His head craned to the side and he jerked at the young woman looking expectantly at him. She smiled and waved, her motions shy, but warm and JC grinned unabashedly. “Hey, sugar. You must be Gavrielle,” he greeted, walking over to shake her hand.

Gavrille smiled and nodded. “Nice to meet you, JC.”

“Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.”

Gavrielle turned to Justin. “Um, do you mind if I go freshen up?”

Justin ignored JC’s smug smile and nodded. He lead Gavrielle out of the room and down the hall, his hand naturally placed on the small of her back. “Right through there. Take your time. I’ll find something edible.”

Justin pulled the large door shut and glared at JC, waving him away when the older man hopped happily besides him giggling in his ear. “Oh my god, Justin, she’s precious.”

“Shut up!” Justin hissed, searching the cabinets. “Gawd, you are such a girl. Are you going to go help her with her make up?!”

JC ignored him, hopping up on the island in the middle of Justin’s large kitchen and kicked his legs excitedly. “She looks so…clean. What did she just get her record deal or something?” JC asked, fingering his necklace.

Justin slapped JC’s legs as they harshly hit the wooden cabinets below and frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout.”

“She’s in the business right? Because last time I checked the walls were up and the barbwire was sharpened. You’re a strictly star guy.”

Justin paused in his desperate search for food and stared blankly at JC before throwing his arms up in the air and tugging on his curls. “Why am I friends with you?” he mumbled to himself. “I don’t understand a fucking thing you say. What language are you speaking?”

JC’s smile never left his face. “You only date girls in the business, man. Tonya, Britney, that one girl who just got her deal at JIVE. Is she an actress or what?”

“She’s not in the business, Joshua! She’s a college student.”

“A what now?” JC’s eye flared open and he pursed his lips.

“A college student. A ‘normal’ girl.”

“Where is she from?”

“Chicago.”

JC gasped and beamed proudly, crossing his hands over his heart. “You…my little boy is growing up. She’s like, from the actually Midwest…with the corn and cows and junk?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“But you really like her?”

“No, well yes, but not like…not in the way you mean. I don’t like, like like her. It’s just she’s really sweet and she’d be a great friend.”

JC crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t even start, C. I’m not havin’ it.”

“Justin…”

“No.”

“You flew her out here.”

“So? I used my miles, it didn’t cost me a dime,” he challenged.

“She’s in your house.”

“Well…”

“Lance hasn’t even been in your house.”

“He’s in RUSSIA doing space shit!”

“You put your hand on her back!”

“I love girl’s backs. I do it to your mother!”

“It’s higher on my mom.”

“I don’t want a girlfriend, C. This is just friendship.”

“Sure it is. Get some grub on for your honey. I’ll see you tomorrow at my house for the barbecue?”

“Of course,” Justin replied quietly.

He followed JC out of the house, closing the door behind him and leaned against it. Gavrielle stepped out of the bathroom, tucking her hair, wavy from being braided, behind her ear. She moistened her lips before smoothing down her skirt. Her head turned over her shoulder and she smiled at Justin, green eyes shining, hair bathed in afternoon light.

Justin gestured her into the kitchen and drew in a deep, reassuring breath. “I don’t want a girlfriend.”

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