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Date Posted: 16:03:58 05/22/03 Thu
Author: Kira
Subject: *Romance* Chapter 7...Thanks for the feedback!

Chapter 7~Happy Family

Justin sipped his water, one arm curved protectively around Gavrielle’s waist. The crowd echoed from the arena, rattling the walls of concrete. The show was ending and Justin was waiting for the caravan out of Radio City.

Gavrielle slipped out of his grasp and walked over to Joey, smiling softly. “I’m Gavrielle, I don’t think we’ve met.”

Joey’s face was suddenly all cheeks and teeth. He hugged her loosely, smelling of aftershave and oranges. “I’m Joey. Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Congratulations on RENT.”

Joey smiled again. “Oh thank you. Have you seen it?”

“Not yet, no. But I will.” Gavrielle promised.

She eyed Marta, still lingering in the corner of the dressing room near the door and she motioned her over. “This is my friend, Marta. She basically got me in the show today.”

Marta waved at all the guys and once she was invited to sit down, she immediately fell into a conversation, unable to remain quiet for any amount of time. Justin pulled her over onto the spare couch, nearly pulling her onto his lap. His arm curled innately around her back, resting against her thigh and she nestled into his lean form. He sniffled in her ear, grabbing a tissue. “Sorry, I’m all sweaty and gross,” he replied, wiping his nose.

“I’m sure I’m funky too. Standing in a pit for four hours…I don’t recommend it. Especially not in these shoes,” Gavrielle held up her leg, pulling her pants to reveal her stilettos and Justin whistled loudly.

“I like those.”

“Me too. My feet just don’t,” Gavrielle sighed and dropped her head onto his shoulder. “The dogs are barkin’,” she laughed.

“Arf!” Justin yipped, closing his eyes.

The adrenaline from the show had boiled over, settling and leaving her utterly spent. She closed her eyes. “You got a cold?” she asked with Justin sniffled again.

“Yeah. Some sinus thing.”

“You should go home later.”

Justin ran his fingers over his fuzzy curls. “I have this party to go to, later.”

“Oh. You have to go?”

“To a Diddy Party? Yes, I have to go,” Justin laughed lightly. “This is my comin’ out night.”

Gavrielle shook her head in embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess you do.”

“What are you gonna do?” Justin asked, turning his head to sneeze into a crumpled tissue.

Gavrielle shrugged. “Go back to our hotel, take a bath, maybe get some grub.”

Justin licked his lips and relished the weight of her pressing into her side. His fingers rubbed the soft fabric of the thigh of his pants and he smiled at the thought of her and Marta driving hundreds of miles just to see him. His performance was that important to her. Justin had a hard time wiping the smirk off his face. He grinned like a fool. She didn’t deserve to spend the night in a cramped hotel room. He tapped her thigh, stuck with a thought. “You should come with me,” Justin said eagerly.

Gavrielle frowned and shook her head. “Justin…”

“You got here and I’mma show you a great time. You should come with me.” He saw the spark of excitement in her eyes.

“No…Justin, this is your night and…I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Why are you trying to get out of this, Gavrielle? I know you want to come. You don’t want to spend the evening with me?” Justin pouted, jutting out his lower lip, whimpering and mewing. “I have to go all by myself too, the other guys aren’t coming…”

Gavrielle laughed as he pushed his head into her shoulder. “Of course I want go…I came for you, but like…I don’t didn’t bring any dresses and Marta is here. I’m not leaving her by herself.”

Marta piped in, a devious glint painting her face. “Don’t worry about me. JC just invited me to Suede for the night. I have a craving for some real food, fries and shit.”

Gavrielle playfully scowled at Marta and sighed, throwing her arms up. “I’ll go, but I don’t have a dress.”

“I’ll get you a dress. Don’t worry about that. Be right back.”

Justin stepped out in the hall with his cell phone and dialed impatiently, leaning against the wall. Joey excused himself and followed Justin. “She’s cute,” he declared, crossing his arms over his broad chest as Justin dialed yet another number.

Justin grunted, sending a distracted nod Joey’s way.

Joey rubbed his bare chin, scratching it thoughtfully. “What are you doing, Justin?”

“Calling Vita…” Justin held up his hand and chattered into the receiver. “Hey, Vita, my favorite fashionista…I need a favor…I don’t know. It doesn’t matter…like 30 minutes? Can you do that? Just a dress, maybe shoes…sure. I don’t know any of that stuff…no…she’s small. Like…five two at the most. Yeah. Okay…thank you so much,” he faced Joey, sliding his phone into his pocket. “What were saying?”

“I was asking you what were you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“The girl…what’s up with her?”

“She’s a friend, Joe.”

“The watch girl?” Joey’s eyes widened for emphasis, but Justin wasn’t catching on. “Look, I don’t wanna hurt your feelings or whatever, but come on, man. You met her three weeks ago. Three weeks, Justin and you’re taking her to afterparties and shit? What are you doing here?” Joey explained, his voice deeper than it usually was.

Justin blew out a breath of annoyance and ran his fingers through his hair. “What am I doing? I don’t know. I have no fucking clue, Joe. But I like her. I like her a lot and what’s wrong with that?”

Joey shook his head, his face softening. “Nothing is wrong with that, Justin. But you’ve never dated ‘normals’ before. You don’t know how they can be, man. I’m not saying she’s like that, I’m just saying, watch your back, man. She could be after her own fifteen minutes. She could trap you, man.”

Justin pushed him back with rough hands. “Oh like Kelly did, Joe? Your daughter’s a fucking trap, Joey?”

“What? Justin, NO. That’s not what I meant at all. What the fuck, man? Listen to me…”

Justin held up his hand and shook his head profusely. “I’ve heard enough…”

“No. You listen to me.” Joey grabbed Justin’s chin and forced him to look at him. “Listen to me. None of us trust like we did before. We shouldn’t. You’re putting all this faith into this chick and you don’t know what she’s after. You don’t have a clue, Justin. I’ve seen you hurt, man. With Britney and all the others and I don’t want you to get hurt in this way, Justin. Okay? That’s all. I think you’re going into this blindly and I’m just asking you to open your eyes a little, dude. Take a look around. Be. Careful.”

Justin pulled his chin out of Joey’s hand and shrugged. “My eyes are open, Joey. They were open when she returned a watch worth fifty grand without a blink. They were open when she came to California and didn’t care that my house was a mess. Didn’t care that I had to work. And my eyes are open now, she drove like four hundred and some odd miles for me…when she starts school next week. I’m seeing her, Joe…” Justin resigned gently.

**

Gavrielle followed Justin through the back entrance of some boutique. His hand found hers and he laced his fingers through them, pulling her through the door, propped open by a doorstop. “Vita, you here?” he shouted loudly.

“Yeah, Justin, I’m here,” a trim woman with dark features walking through the threshold, a ring of keys on her wrist, a tape measure around her neck.

“Thanks again for staying late.”

“Not a problem. Hi, I’m Vita. I’m gonna find you a fantastic dress.”

Gavrielle shook her hand and smiled. “Gavrielle.”

“Vita owns this shop. She has her own line, pretending to be a big label. She’s a lamb is Versace’s clothing,” Justin teased.

“Watch it, Timberlake.” Vita motioned to the front of the room and Gavrielle followed numbly.

Vita flipped on the lights, illuminating the show room and Gavrielle was amazed at the large space, detailed with white marble, sleek leather benches and the most exquisite dresses she’d ever seen. Gowns with detailed beading, chiffon sleeves, lace skirts. Vita leaned over, slipping the measuring tape around Gavrielle’s waist, quickly reading the results. “What’s your bust, sweetie?”

“My bust?”

“Yeah. Come on, not much time.”

“36,” she replied distantly.

Vita grunted. “Thought so. I’ve got some great dresses that didn’t make the spring collection. Let’s go look at few.”

Justin sat on the leather bench, blowing his nose. He rolled his eyes and tossed the disgusting tissue in the garbage, he pulled out a travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer and squeezed a glob into his palm, rubbing the cool gel into the skin. He waved them in the air and yawned as he put the bottle back in his pocket. Vita and Gavrielle were into dressing room. Huddled behind a thick curtain, but from what he could hear, Gavrielle was refusing to come out in the dress she was trying on. “My ass is like…enormous.”

“It looks supposed to fit like that, honey. And your ass is fine.”

“I love the color…”

“Show him.”

“I can’t wear this. As beautiful as it is, I just can’t. I feel naked in this.”

Justin’s eyebrows immediately lifted and he eyed the curtain with lustful curiosity. Rubbing his hands on his thighs, he willed himself to stay seated. He leaned back on his elbows and continued to listen. “Oh my god, Vita. This one is it. I love it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Um…”

“Your ass is fine,” Vita continued dryly.

“Is it supposed to be this long? I don’t want the bottom to get dirty.”

“Yes, dear. Just hold it up when you walk, okay? I’m going to see I have some shoes for you. Size…”

“Um, six and half.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back. Finish your make-up in here.” Vita swept the green curtain aside and smiled at Justin. “She’s almost ready. Just a few more minutes,” she informed Justin.

“Okay.”

Vita jogged in the backroom and returned with several boxes of shoes, disappearing behind the curtain again.

Twenty minutes later, Justin held the soft clatter of high heals against the slippery floor and he opened his eyes, jerking out of his dreamy state, a little high on cold medicine and the electricity still surging through him from the night. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at Gavrielle. Her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides, large bracelets clinking along her thin wrist.

She was clad in soft champagne hue, accented with silver wistful designs, a thin hint of a dress with skinny straps and a sprace bodice. It was tight at the chest, cleavage emerging, a glorious brown. It fluttered down to the floor. The skirt was fitted against her shapely thighs. Gavrielle’s hair had been taken down from the cornrows, slicked back into a fanciful updo. She whirled around, modeling the dress, adjusting the white rose in her hair. “Is this okay?”

“If okay means absolutely gorgeous, then it’s definitely okay. Wow.”

She blushed a bit, taking her eyes off his.

He approached, fingers trailing over her bare back. “You look astonishing, Gavrielle. Really.”

Gavrielle peered up at him, green eyes brimming with warmth and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much.”

“Thank you.” He kissed her nose before, calling out to Vita. “Vita, how much do I owe you?”

“Eh…”

“Hey…I’m paying you for this.”

Vita waved him off. “Just send your mom here for Christmas like you always do with that platinium card of yours, gimme a shoutout in an article or something and we’ll be fine. That dress was just sitting on the rack anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Get out of here, Justin.”

“I owe you. Let’s go, Gavrielle.”

**

Gavrielle was petrified. Legitimately fearful as the limo turned slowly onto the boulevard and she saw nothing but barricades, white hot flashes and walls of people packed corralled by police. Spotlights blasted beams of light out into the night sky, panning the clouds, muffling the moon. Her mouth dropped open in a soundless scream as the limo stopped in front of the red carpet. Justin placed his hat on his head, sliding his fingers along the brim and unlocked the door. He turned to Gavrielle. “I’m going to get out here,” he handed her the thick invitation. “You’re going to go through the VIP entrance in the back. Eric will escort you. We’ll meet up up at the table, okay?”

“Um, okay…”

Justin kissed her on the cheek. “Just don’t get lost, and you’ll be fine.”

The door opened and Justin slid out to thunderous applause. She watched through tinted windows as he strutted down the carpet, amidst the sea of photographers and screamed. His quiet, pensive demeanor crumbled into one of loud charisma. He worked the crowd without even trying.

The limo pulled around the corner into a dark lot. Gavrielle saw the entrance, heavily manned by burly security men, the actual doorway cloaked in a black tarp to discourage photography. Drawing in a deep breath, she pulled the skirts of her dress and took Eric’s hand as he helped her out the limo. “Thank you,” she glanced up at the large man, holding an umbrella over her head.

“Sure. Right this way.”

They walked down the canopy, Gavrielle feeling beautiful and important as the dress fluttered grandly behind her. They waited in a short line before that traveled up a flight of steep concrete stairs, to the door.

“Name please.”

“Gavrielle Simone.”

“You’re not on the list.”

“I know. I’m Justin Timberlake’s guest,” she answered strongly, over the loud chatter, handing the attendant the invitation.

“Oh. Right this way, miss.”

The female attendant lead her up another flight of stairs and Gavrielle could feel the music pulsing through the walls, beating in her chest. When she entered the banquet hall, she thought she’d eclipsed the boundaries of a fantasy world. It was loud, deafening and almost painful. Women danced in cages suspended from the ceiling, wearing nothing but a lustful, vapid expressions and purple tassels. Lights flashed in dizzying sequences, emerging the smoky air in color with a drug-like clarity.

Her eyes traveled upwards and she craned her neck, leaning over the balcony, bracing herself against the carved stone railing. There were three levels, all them packed with people dressed in sharp suits or skimpy dresses. The attendant led her downstairs to the main floor, where tables and intimate booths were set up, placards scrawled in calligraphy under each elaborate centerpiece of exotic flowers and Cristal champagne. Gavrielle was numb to it all. It was simply surreal. She wondered how she’d entered an incredibly loud, but enticing world of luxury and decadence. Proud debauchery and erotic dreams.

“Where’s my man at?” Gavrielle recognized that voice as she was led to her table. The thick Brooklyn accent always with a tinge of hyperactivity. It was Sean “Puffy” Combs.

She froze as he turned to face her. He was in a black velvet suit, pristine white satin vest. A unbelievably handsome man. “Oh. Hello, Ms? I don’t know why I don’t know you! Diddy knows everyone up in this joint, but I don’t know you!”

“I’m Justin’s guest,” Gavrielle shouted over the crowd.

“Justin’s guest?” Sean mocked. “You got a name, baby?”

“Gavrielle,” she smiled and held out her hand.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Gavrielle. “What do you think of the Diddy party?”

Gavrielle surveyed the hall and applauded him. “It’s…damn…wow. You definitely know how to celebrate.”

“You work hard, you gotta play hard, right baby?”

“Of course,” Gavrielle agreed as she was handed a glass of champagne.

“DIDDY!” Justin ventured to the table, a bottle of water in his hand.

Sean trotted up to meet him. “It’s the Timberman, what’s up? You murdered it tonight, man. You cooked it and served it up, dawg.”

Justin hugged him tightly and waved him off. “Nothing like you. That was the performance of the year. It made the show. You know how to pull it out, dude.”

“You expec’ any less?”

“Fuck no. You meet my friend, Gavrielle?”

“Yeah, I did. She’s wearin’ that dress, man,” Sean declared, pulling down his ever-present sunglasses.

Justin smiled, rubbing his hands together. “That she is.”

Sean patted Justin on the chest with a closed fist. “I’mma go greet my guests. You party. You deserve it baby.”

“Thanks, man.”

Justin joined Gavrielle at the table and sipped his water. The evening continued without much conversation. Justin was constantly greeted and congratulated by his peers. Gavrielle was ignored if Justin didn’t take the time to introduce her. She didn’t mind. The
party was too loud to be heard anyway. The beats had jackhammered their way into her head and chest, pounding mercilessly. She sipped champagne, hoping to dull the noise and sighed when a slower song echoed through the cavernous hall. Justin nudged her shoulder. “You wanna go dance?”

“Yeah.”

Justin didn’t hear her, so she grabbed his hand, pulling him out of his seat. Pushing their way through the crowd, they danced, bodies pressed together. Gavrielle laid her heard on Justin’s chest, trying to ignore how much she wanted to leave. It was his night and she was doing her best to fit in. Justin’s arms around her waist, dipping to her bottom made it all more bearable. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. She could wait another hour. People were moving around them, she barely paid attention, she felt people bumping against Justin or herself. Her green eyes flared open when fingers slid daringly against her bottom. She knew it wasn’t Justin’s. They were rough, thick and hungry. Biting the inside of her cheek, she shrugged it off, closing her eyes again. Several minutes later, someone pinched her. Hard.

Her head flew off her Justin’s chest and she whirled around, glaring at the crowd.

Justin leaned in her ear, whispering. “What is it?”

Gavrielle turned to face him, eyes tired, slightly squinted from the smoke. “Can we go, Justin? Please.”

“You want to leave?”

“Yes. I’m really just ready to go.”

He sighed. “Sure we can go,” he ushered her back to the table.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Justin paged Eric and fifteen minutes later, they were escorted out of the VIP entrance and into the limo. Gavrielle sighed at the quiet and rubbed her temples. Justin leaned against the seat. “You weren’t having fun?”

“I was…it’s was just…”

“Too much of everything?”

“Yes.”

“It’s okay. I was getting tired of it too. Where to?”

“Suede…”

**

Suede was an adorably casual bar. With sticky hardwood floors, a small stage and clean tables and booths. Justin waved to the bartender and co-owner, his friend, Don and winked at several of the waitresses before leading Gavrielle upstairs to the VIP area. Gavrielle tossed the skirts of her dress over her right arm, gripping the banister tightly as she ascending the narrow staircase.

The VIP room was quiet, filled with laughter and soft music. Clean air and bright smiles. She straightened out her dress and followed Justin across the soft parkay flooring. JC, Chris, Joey and a half dozen other people were crowded around a long table, sharing stories, munching on greasy chilli fries and mozzarella sticks, drinking frothy glasses of beer. Lynn, Justin’s mother, was sipping champagne, a tissue in her hand. Her blue eyes caught Justin’s and she began laughing loudly, waving him over.

“What are you doing here, baby?” she asked, pushing him into a seat.

“Gavrielle wanted to leave, so we came here.”

Lynn’s eyes darted to Gavrielle and she waved timidly. “Well, you look beautiful, honey. Come sit down,” she patted a seat next to her and Gavrielle sat down, groaning in relief as the hot pressure was taken off her feet. “Where on earth did you come from?” Lynn questioned, her southern lilt soothing.

“Chicago,” Gavrielle replied with a tired sigh. “Road trip,” she summarized.

“You did that for him, Sugar?”

“Yeah and for me.”

JC leaned over the table. “Mami! Marta got a call from a Devin, David…”

“Darren?!”

“Yes,” JC tapped his nose. “Darren and she left. She said she’ll be at the hotel.”

“Um…wow. Thanks, JC.”

Lynn made quick introductions, inviting her to join in the celebratory feast of fattening food and too much beer. Famished, Gavrielle immediately joined in, piling a china plate with fries and barbequed ribs. Justin sat down with a plate of vegetables and dip, sipping on his bottle of water. Chris was cackling at the end of the table, JC leaning against him nearly crying as Chris talked in a series of truncated breaths and syllables rushed with laughter. Joey shouted in mock anger from the end of the table and set them into burning giggles again. Justin shook his head, smiling as he Lynn pushed some fries and chicken wings on his plate, muttering about how skinny he was. Gavrielle smiled, licking the barbeque sauce off her fingers. They were now taunting Justin, singing “Like I Love You” in squeaky falsettos and Justin was grinning the entire time, his eyes darting back and forth from his brothers, soaking up their pride. He snorted with bubblish giggles.

Gavrielle watched him. Her green eyes soaking everything in as Justin handed JC a napkin, he was crying and laughter, tears streaming down his chiseled cheeks. He was panting wetly and swiped his cheeks off, completely unashamed. He was happy, happy to be in a private room with thick drapes of the windows, happy to be away from the cameras and fans. Happy with himself and to be alive. Happy to be with his family.

She hoped one day she’d be apart of that family.

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