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ACT II: IN THE BEGINNING - Enlightening
Scene 2: A Glimpse at the Workings of the Green-Eyed Monster
"I'm sorry but you can't navigate me, I might do mean things or I might hurt you or I might run away without your permission and that scares the shit outta you cuz I'm the only real thing you got." - Reality Bites
Some people probably waste a lot of time wondering what their future holds in store for them. Are they fated to lead extraordinary lives or waste away at a small town gas station? I was never one of those people. For me, making music was a passion, and if it led to more, while it would be nice, it wasn't necessary. I never expected to be famous. I know that's what everyone always says on those Before They Were Stars shows, but for a long time, I never thought the life I lived was even a possibility. I don't think it's something you can prepare for either until it's already happening. There is no boot camp or line of For Dummies books available that tackle the three am photographer at your window or the dinner that gets cold because of autographs. It's something that owns me and it makes me worry that no one can put up with it for long periods of time without going crazy.
Needless to say, having met the love of my life at such a young age, right in the eye of this celebrity frenzy, makes it that much harder at times. I find myself questioning everything because I worry about Laney Jane, how my decisions-what I say to reporters or don't say for example-will effect her. I wonder if this world is worth it because the idea of losing Laney is inconceivable to me. She is my everything-I wouldn't be the man I am today if she wasn't in my life.
The truth is that there is nothing too mysterious about Justin Timberlake, at least not in the usual sense of the word. I'm a guy who lives in constant contact, scrutiny, or whichever preferred word of the month with the public, but beyond that I'm a pretty normal guy. I'm sometimes courteous, sometimes failing in all manners, and I try to do right by those I love. Nothing too extraordinary about me in the long run and, if I didn't show up at awards shows or grace the covers of magazines, I would blend in with every other guy out there.
I guess that's why I love that people are confounded by my relationship with Laney Jane. It provides me with something I've never had before. It allows me to maintain a smidge of the unknown. I become a music anomaly rather than the predictable popstar who only dates actresses, models, or whoever else makes the preferred list. I date a girl that goes to college, worries about paying her rent, and doesn't bother with kissing the ass of some friend of so-and-so. Laney Jane is the polar opposite of what is expected for me. She doesn't care for the limelight or if we end up earning a mention in the latest gossip column. I don't talk about my private life because of her, because it pisses her off (and nothing like the fear of a girlfriend scorned to keep me in my place), and because she wants us to be normal.
That normality makes me so strange to everyone else. Aside from the random photograph of the two of us at some shindig or another, Laney is barely visible on the radar of my celebrity existence, and with my pending solo album rising on the horizon, that makes me mysterious. I'm fucking inexplicable and I love every second of it.
It means Laney Jane is all mine. I couldn't give a shit what labels people brand me with-I learned a long time ago that it's a waste of energy to even try-and if the worst someone can think to say about me is that I'm ordinary, well, my mom would say she hasn't failed as a parent. No, none of that matters-but having Laney to myself, not worrying about sharing her or watching her thrown into someone's beef with me, is the best thing to happen to me. There are no words-or I dunno, none that I know that don't make us sound cheesy-that can describe how much that means to me, how much she means to me. She is the one thing that belongs to me, not the world around me. I don't have to share my feelings about her or the way one smile from her can lift my spirits for the rest of the week. No one will ever need to know that the reason I smile every time I talk to her is because she gets where I'm coming from, laughs at my bad jokes, and puts up with phone calls at four in the morning. We can have private jokes and silly moments without everyone else having an opinion on what it means in the big scheme of things.
It's happened to me before. It's this freaky thing that occurred once I was hit with fame: a weird need for everyone to own a part of me. The public believes that they have a god-given right to make decisions about my life, as if enjoying my music entitles every person to a piece of me. People make up stories, recreating history to make me more real to them. Girls invent love affairs and one-night-stands. I understand it, and usually ignore it, but there is the inevitable letdown factor that arises when these girls actually meet or date me. I'm not half the man girls make me out to be in their heads. I'm just me, but I somehow end up the trophy boyfriend, the trophy celebrity, the trophy Justin Timberlake. I've faced it all:
Ohmigod, he touched the small of her back…they must be getting married.
She's frowning at him. They're breaking up.
My boyfriend is in a group. He's famous and loves me so much that he bought me this bracelet.
If I dated Justin, it wouldn't matter who he was.
He smiled at a fan. He must be seeing someone else behind his girlfriend's back. The bastard.
Justin, introduce me to so-and-so….Justin, take me to this party…
Etc, etc, etc…
I hoped that one day there would be something, someone, who was uncomplicated and untainted by my fame. Laney's the closest to achieving such a thing that I've ever come and it's one of the things that I love about her. If that means that I have to put up with certain things, certain people in her life, then I'll suck it up and deal with it.
In the scheme of things, considering all the obstacles that Laney Jane and I have faced in our relationship, this is nothing, right?
Wrong-because my evening started with a very clear message: Frankie needs to go.
Laney Jane will argue that I took them by surprise, that they had been "working" hard on their presentation, and how eavesdropping is a bad thing, but I don't care. If I've figured anything out this evening, it's that I will never like Frankie. This isn't anything like the whole Spencer ordeal either where my distrust was unfounded or, well, this is not jealousy because I got the girl and…I'm not jealous…much.
You see, Frankie is not exactly my favorite person in the world. I met the guy once and well, he freaked me out. He was always saying "Laney and I", emphasis on the "and I" while he touched her on the arm or shoulder or the back. I bite my tongue though because I figure the "something's not right with that guy" fight is much more suited for my hotel room after we watch a bad movie starring Sharon Stone and when we have plenty of time to make up. As it is now, I won't be seeing Laney Jane much and a couple of days of Laney-stewing-in-anger time is a tactical error to be avoided at all costs.
I told myself that I was overreacting. I know it, but there's something not right about that guy. I've gotten really good at reading people in my job-it helps when doing interviews to be able to figure out the person asking the questions-and Frankie reads too perfectly. That scares me, especially since my girlfriend spends large amounts of time with him on a daily basis.
If you asked me two days ago, I would've told you that I was freaking out about nothing and that, despite my gut feeling, I was going to ignore the urge to lock Laney Jane in my closet and behave like a sane person. Well, I've since realized the error of my ways. Frankie needs to go. I've learned my lesson and maybe some people need to disappear forever.
My evening was supposed to be simple, fun and filled with quality Laney Jane time. Instead, Frankie managed to infect the evening with his own brand of scheming and made it very clear to me that I had been too passive where he was concerned. I mean, there's trusting the woman you love not to be taken in by a creep and then there's handing her over to said creep for the taking.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
"You were great on Dave Letterman, kid, just great. The girls were uncontrollable and you handled the whole Britney thing rather well. Just great," Donald Lions screeched into my ear. He was one of the higher-ups at Jive who had "taken me under his wing" (translation: let me make an album with my own songs) and took to calling me "kid" and "sport" at every given opportunity. He was the mastermind behind this crazy press junket from hell. Whenever I would worry that being quite so visible might make people sick of my music before the album even hit, Donald would reply, "Kid, there is never too much visibility, especially when we're marketing someone as hot as you." I decided to take my own advice, employing the "whatever works" philosophy I try to live by and hoping for the best.
I motioned to Todd to stop the car in front of Laney's building while Donald continued to talk about my performance. I tended not to listen to anyone else's take on a performance until I had time to unwind and watch the video of it myself. I offered a few responses of "uh-huh" and "you're right" whenever there was a small break in his chatter, but my mind was already on Laney Jane. By some miracle, a small slot of time had opened up in my schedule and I was told to "have fun". To me that meant seeing my girlfriend and vegging out in front of her television for the evening. If I was particularly charming, I might even be able to get Laney Jane to come with me tomorrow. My eyes glazed over young hipsters with backpacks and model-looking girls who walked by on the sidewalk. A few glanced over in my direction and I slid the window up so that people on the streets wouldn't notice me.
I stretched back against the leather upholstery of the seat and finally replied, "Thank you, sir. You're faith in me means a lot and I won't let you down."
"It's Donny, son. Anyway, the wife and I are throwing a small gathering to celebrate this momentous occasion for you and Jive. I'll have our assistants work out the details."
"Okay."
"You're doing grrrrr-eat," he repeated.
"Thanks."
"Enjoy the rest of your night off," he said and the line went dead.
I tossed my phone across the seat and let out a half-yawn, half-groan. Sometimes my life felt like it wasn't really mine, but this role I played every single day-except the scripts were never finished and I was forced to improvise my way through it all. I've never been very good at improvisation.
I was too tired to be worrying about anything at the moment. What I needed was a good dose of Laney Jane to lift my spirits. I noticed a small group of young people handing out pamphlets in front of Laney's building. A guy of about my age jumped up on a small box and started shouting, "Down with the establishment! Down with it!" and I wondered if this was some strange part of growing up that I missed out on-the desire to buck the system and fix things. Was it something that going to college instilled if only for a few short years? I envied that sort of black and white belief system that I couldn't afford.
Todd turned to me and said, "Don't move until I motion for you."
"Fine."
"I mean it."
"Do I ever disobey you, master?"
Todd muttered under his breath and I watched as the small crowd dispatched and several of the hand-printed papers flew into the wind and traveled down the block, carried to some undetermined destination. I stretched out and closed my eyes for a second, but I must have dozed off because Todd was shaking me. I blinked up at him and he said, "She's at the library. Why don't we go back to the hotel and you can call her?"
"No. I need to see her."
"J…"
I motioned him for to hold on a second and reached across the seat for my cellphone. I dialed her number and it immediately went to her voice mail. I hung up without leaving a message and focused on Todd. "She's not answering."
"All the more reason to go back to the hotel."
I shook my head and offered innocently, attempting to work my magic on one of the two people immune to my charm, "No one would expect to find me in NYU's library, Toddy."
Todd looked upward-why did everyone in my life do that so often? Am I really that much of a chore?-and replied with a great deal of restraint, "How many times do we have to go over this? You aren't like-"
I rolled my eyes and said, "I know what you're supposed to say, T, but c'mon, admit it. I'll be safe there-and I'm not planning to stick around long. We swing by, grab Laney Jane, and leave. Quickly. Quicker than quick. In like a flash and out-"
Todd raised his hand, "I get it, I get it." Todd sighed and said, "You got away from me. That's the story if anyone finds out. You catch my drift?" I nodded, grinning, and he added, "And don't look so happy. If you look happy, I feel like I got suckered outta my soul." He slammed my door shut and retook his place in the passenger seat.
Before long we were back on the streets of New York City and I understood why Laney Jane loved this city so much. It was a world onto itself, a foreign entity where people could be rude and caring at the same time, where anonymity and identity were intertwined, and where you could tell someone that water was wet and it would spur a ten-minute discussion on the possibility that it really wasn't. It was a city of contradictions and it fit Laney perfectly since that was how I often viewed her-a mass of paradoxes. I could imagine us spending the rest of our lives here long after my "career" was over-staying in Greenwich Village for as long as possible and making music just for the sake of doing it while Laney worked her way up the political food chain. I could see the two of us walking through the park someday with one of our kids on my shoulder while the other ran ahead, hurrying toward the water as Laney called after him. (Call me crazy, but I have no doubts that if the time ever comes for Laney and I to have kids, I will be blamed whenever they're bad. Somehow, it will be my fault.) New York City was going to be home one day-the energy of its assurance crackled in the air around me.
When we stopped in front of the library, I hopped out of the car, unwilling to wait for Todd any longer, and pulled my baseball cap further down on my face. I kept my eyes focused on the floor, while searching the main area for any sign of Laney Jane. I decided it might be best to hide behind the rows of books while I continued my search-I was pretty sure Laney would not forgive me if I drew attention to myself in her holy shrine.
I hurried past aisle after aisle of books, the smell of lack of light and frantic studying stifling the air-with each step the clearer it became that this was not my element. I now understood the nervousness Laney felt at one of my business parties because it was all I could do to keep from breaking out in hives. I ducked into a row when I saw two girls lost in conversation about graduation and took a moment to berate myself for this hair-brained scheme of mine. I should've listened to Toddy. I should've left a message on Laney's phone and told her to come by my hotel. Why was I always doing things that made me come across as crazy?
That was when I was knocked over with the fact that it was essential to get Frankie out of my life. I stopped moving when I heard Laney's familiar voice. I was half considering that I was hearing things, but I spun around and noticed her familiar profile next to a tall young guy with a cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth. If I felt misplaced in the library, Frankie was dressed the part, complete with rolled up edges on a tee-shirt that said, "Anarchy" and the unlit cigarette that his mouth treated like a toothpick after dinner.
I watched Laney whisper something to Frankie. I told myself not to eavesdrop, to announce myself immediately, maybe even sweep Laney Jane up in my arms and flaunt it in Frankie's face, but instead I chose to hover in the next aisle like a deranged stalker.
Frankie dropped a book back into its place before he leaned casually against the bookshelf. He directed his gaze on Laney Jane, eyebrows arched so much that it looked like one long unibrow, and shook his head. He smirked and said, "Stanton, would you listen to yourself?"
I peaked between a few books and noticed Laney Jane. She was in an old pair of sweats, the ratty old blue ones that she referred to her as "must-have" outfit for studying, with her hair bunched up on top of her except for a few strands of hair falling into her face. She blew out a loud breath, sending the hairs in every direction and hit Frankie in the arm. She pulled the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it on the floor as she replied, "You're doing it again."
Witnessing this display was making my ill-the remnants of my chicken sandwich stuck in my throat-and I decided I had done enough spying on my girlfriend. We weren't the type of couple who ended up on Temptation Island because one of us had doubts about the other. I had no doubts and she had no doubts. There were no doubts to be had…so I started around the corner to surprise her, but once again stopped when Frankie moved closer to Laney Jane. He pushed Laney's hair back away from her face. It was a careless gesture-neither romantic nor sexual-but that was my thing. Frankie countered, "I'm sorry, Stanton, but when I see a relatively intelligent girl wasting her time on a flash-in-the pan-"
Laney held up her hand and cut him off, "I'm not talking about Justin with you. All you do is bad mouth him-and do I do that to you?"
"Have I ever given you reason to?"
I watched Laney take her defiant stance. I waited (practically jumping up and down in anticipation) for her to make some comment or slug him. Instead she sighed and said weakly, "You don't know him, Frankie."
"Fair enough, but I know you."
Laney rolled her eyes and said, "Is this another one of your Frankie McCauley lectures? I think I can reiterate it from memory by now."
"I care about you, Stanton. I want to see you happy."
"I am happy."
"Right."
"I am."
"Tell me. What do the two of you discuss when you're alone?" Frankie asked. Again with the smirk. I was about to jump out and remove that smirk if he kept talking. The good angel on my shoulder kept shouting at me to show myself and end this stupid conversation, but I couldn't do it. It was like I was waiting for Laney to start shooting off a list of how happy I make her and to state, with no doubt in her voice that I was the best thing to ever happen to her.
She didn't do that. She said, "Let this go, Frankie. I'm serious."
He stared at her intently and I could feel her eyes on his. I don't know, but I could. It was like they were having some sort of telepathic conversation that went on for seconds before Frankie finally said, "Do you talk about his hair?"
"Stop."
"Which new tattoo he should get to make him look all philosophical and deep?"
"I said stop."
"Maybe you discuss the last book he read," Frankie replied. He clutched his chest and raised his voice, "Why Laney, I just loved Fox in Socks. You should definitely read it when you get a chance."
"He's not mentally retarded for god's sake. Justin knows how to read."
"So what is it?" Frankie replied. He picked up another book and flipped through it without a glance at what was on the page and prompted Laney to respond, "I'm truly intrigued by this. What the hell could you possibly have to talk about with a guy like that? I mean, god knows, you don't tell him the truth about you-"
Laney's face twisted into a stricken expression and she covered her face with her hands. She moaned, "Jesus, Frankie. You're maddening. It's like attempting to have a conversation with a four-year-old. One track mind."
"It appears that I've hit a nerve, Stanton."
"Or managed to get on my last nerve, McCauley" Laney countered. She removed the book from Frankie's hand and added it to a small pile on the floor. She knelt down and sorted through a few books before adding, "And you don't know me as well as you think, Frankie, so save this Rebel Without A Cause routine for a freshman."
"And Justin knows you?"
"He knows everything about me, thanks."
"I'm shocked information on anyone other than himself fits into that brain of his. Color me impressed."
"You're impossible, you realize? We have a presentation due that is worth half our grade and you're more concerned with my love life. You've met Justin once, Frankie. You haven't got a clue about him."
"And I'd like to keep it that way," Frankie said. He looked around for a second before narrowing his gaze on Laney once again. He shrugged and said, "I'm sorry. I'll try to keep my disparaging remarks to myself, but it's just…" Frankie paused for a second like he was debating whether or not to say what was on his mind. I don't know why-it didn't seem like he had any trouble unloading his own issues onto people. He let out a long, dragged-out breath and went on, "…you're special, Laney. I consider you to be my equal and you know that I don't do that-"
Laney laughed. She fucking laughed. He was insulting me and the girl was laughing. She questioned, "Did you admit that someone is as intelligent as you?"
"Yes, well you're not inferior."
"I might die from shock."
"Take it as you like, but you're wasting your greatness, Stanton. I've seen how worked up you get about historical references and presidential debates. I've witnessed how your eyes light up when you've written an amazing speech that people react to. Are you really going to tell me that a popstar can relate to that? You've given up so much for him already, Stanton-what are you going to do with your life? Write his acceptance speeches for a living? Or become some brainless Barbie doll for him to show off? Does he know what you've sacrificed to be with him or how lucky he is?"
My feet moved of their own accord. I didn't realize what had happened until I was facing Laney and Frankie. Frankie was the first to notice me. He rolled his eyes and flicked his hand at me dismissively. He nodded in my direction and said, "Speak of the devil."
Laney whipped her head around. She blinked a few times as if this was a dream she was having. She cleared her throat and said, "Justin? How long have you been standing there?"
"A few seconds," I lied. I wasn't about to get scolded by my girlfriend in front of this guy, that was for sure. I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around her in a hug. I kissed her shoulder before focusing my gaze on Frankie's. He met my eyes and we stared at each other, both of us attempting to stake our territory-too bad for him, I always got what I wanted. Frankie rolled his eyes at me and coughed loudly as if it was uncomfortable for him to view a public display of affection, causing Laney to pull back.
She said, "You're here. In my library. I mean, it's nice, but unexpected. I-I-thought we had dinner plans tomorrow."
"We did. We do-am I interrupting something?"
She patted my face gently and said, "Of course not."
I pushed her hair aside from her face and said, "I got done earlier than expected and I wanted to surprise you."
"And that you did," she replied. She bent down and scooped up the pile of books off the floor and said, "Frankie and I were finishing up a section of our presentation."
Frankie glared at her before replying, "Yes. You know, Laney…always the study dictator."
"Yeah, I know Laney Jane," I responded. I reached instinctively for her hand and asked, "Are you about done here? Have a few hours to spare for your boyfriend?" Frankie muttered something under his breath. I chose to ignore it, which I thought was very adult of me considering I wanted to punch the guy in the face. I nudged Laney and said, "If it's not cool, I'll just head back-"
"No," she responded softly. She glanced at Frankie and back to me. She squeezed my hand and, finding her voice, added, "No, we're done for the night and spending time with you sounds like exactly what the doctor ordered."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," she replied with a smile. She hit Frankie in the chest and said, "Mind checking out those books for us, McCauley?"
"I always knew you partnered up with me for my brute strength."
She laughed, "Good one." She turned her back on him and rested her head on my shoulder for a second as she said, "For a second there I thought I was hallucinating and was about to curse your existence for breaking me."
I chuckled, feeling some of the tension leave my chest, and chucked her chin, "You and your compliments, Laney Jane. I don't know how I don't have a huge ego after all this time."
She giggled and when I stopped walking she replied, "Oh, I thought you were being facetious."
"And to think I missed you."
"Uh-huh."
"So…" I paused as I reached to hold the door open for Laney.
"So?"
"Always nice seeing Frankie."
"Right. I could totally sense that. You and Frankie, best buds in the making."
"I already have a best friend, thanks," I replied. I leaned in and planted a quick kiss on her lips. I forced a smile and said, "And you're much prettier than he is."
"I know you were eavesdropping, Justin Timberlake. It's written all over your face."
"What?"
"You're pissed."
No use lying to the girl. I nodded and said, "I'm pissed."
She stepped through the door and I pointed to where Todd was leaning against the car. He had a scowl etched onto his face, looking like the bad guy in a prison movie. Laney said, "But not as pissed as him."
Todd glared in our direction. He crossed his arms and took loud stomps in our direction. I never saw Bruce Banner when he became the Hulk, but I was pretty sure Toddy could give him a run for his money on the fright factor. Todd pointed at me, "You!"
"Yes, it's me! I've missed you too, big guy, but like I promised, we can-"
He cut me off and chucked me over his shoulder. He turned to face Laney and said, "Always good to see you, Laney. When you're around, I don't have to worry about the boy devoid of common sense."
He tossed me into the car and Laney slid in next to me. I pointed at her and said, "You better not be laughing at me."
"Never. With you, J, with you."
"Except I'm not laughing, Laney Jane."
"C'mon. Nothing lightens a mood like watching you carried over someone's shoulder."
I shrugged and cupped her face with my hands. I kissed her, pulling back for a second, and said, "There are better ways to do that, smartass."
I managed to forget Frankie and everything else for a brief period of time. But then again, I usually forget my name when I kiss Laney. It's probably one of the most powerful things in the world-who needs drugs when I got Laney Jane and her cherry chapstick? It wasn't until we were in the elevator heading to my suite that the power of Frankie's words knocked me over.
Does he know what you've sacrificed to be with him or how lucky he is?
Sacrifice? What the hell did that mean? I knew it wasn't always easy for her to date me-sometimes it was downright horrible, but she talked about it with me. This was something else and the horrible things running through my head had to be worse than the actuality of it. But did I ask? That would be admitting that I was eavesdropping. And it was probably nothing. It was probably Frankie attempting to cause trouble in my relationship and I would be helping him along.
And more important was the fact that he kept bad-mouthing me, right? Here I thought I was being my normal melodramatic self, but now it was confirmed-Frankie was out to get me.
So I had to get him first.
And that's where my thoughts are…mentally counting down the days until Laney graduates and we're free of this guy. I know he's her friend, but she's got plenty of other friends. She has Steph and Spencer and Lance…tons of people whom she can count on. Scaring off one stupid guy with his own agenda wouldn't be a terrible thing.
"You're sulking," Laney states. Her voice invades my thoughts and everything else fades away in that moment, except her. The way the lights from the city hit the room make her look even more beautiful, like some sort of angel of the city. She slips out of her coat and drops it on the bed. I feel her eyes boring into the back of my head, but I'm trying to calm myself down, counting to ten, and all that fun stuff Chris babbles on about. I hear her sigh and the sound of the fabric crinkling as she sits down. "J, Frankie was being Frankie."
I stare out at the evening sky, squinting to see as far across Central Park as possible and wishing I could scoop Laney up in my arms and we could fly away. Sometimes reality is no fun and the idea of existing within a movie sounds like the only way for true love to thrive. Movies end before differing careers, long distance, and guys named Frankie can create waves in the calm water. In a movie, Laney Jane and I would be dancing down some abandoned street lit only by the neon signs illuminating the sky above and the stars. Her arms would be around my neck, her face pressed into my chest, and there would be music that only we could hear. She'd smile that killer grin of hers and my legs would liquefy until she was holding us both up and we would exist there forever. Lost in each other.
"I'm so glad I blew off my never-ending pile of work to come back here with you. Our evening thus far has been insightful and everything I ever imagined a reunion to be," Laney's voice cuts through my fantasy and I order myself to get a grip. I remind myself that I'm not mad at Laney Jane. She did nothing wrong. I've missed her and she looks so damn kissable and if only I could ignore this stupid pang in my gut-there are better ways to pass my time with Laney Jane.
As if she wants to drive that point home, her fingers sweep across my shoulder blades and she rests her cheek on my back. She says, "He didn't mean it, J."
I spin around and stare at her. I ask, "Are you for real?"
"He speaks."
"Laney Jane-"
"Frankie says things without thinking. You of all people should appreciate that."
She did not compare me to him. She did not compare me to him. She so did. I reply, "I don't make a habit of telling other guy's girlfriends how wrong the boyfriend is for them under the pretense of friendship."
Laney sighs again. She glances away for a moment and then focuses back on me. She says slowly, so slowly like time is of the essence, "What Frankie thinks doesn't matter."
"I didn't exactly hear you arguing that point, Laney Jane."
"That's because you appeared out of nowhere before I had a chance to say anything."
"Right."
"I've learned to tune Frankie out most of the time, something you should try."
"So he's told you to dump me before?"
"That's not what he said, Justin."
I keep reminding myself that I'm not mad at Laney, but it's not working. She's there and Frankie's not, making it much easier to take this out on her. I snap, "Do you think I'm too much of moron to understand what he was saying? I know that's what Frankie thinks. Don't worry about your boyfriend, Laney, his brain's too small to notice the way I leer at you!"
Laney grips her head and steps away from me. She closes her eyes and our breathing falls in synch with one another until she finally replies, "You're being stupid."
"Apparently, that's what all your friends think."
Laney rolls her eyes, "Only once they get to know you." She forces her eyes open and stares at me. I can't read what she's thinking. She's usually so easy to figure out. I know how to tell when she's angry, when she's stressed, when she's sad...but this look, it's different than anything I've ever seen from her before. She sighs again and says, "I don't want to do this with you, J. It's not-"
"Not important? It fucking well is, Laney."
"Okay, fine. Do you want me to admit that Frankie doesn't like you? That he thinks we don't belong together? Fine, Justin. On more than one occasion Frankie has felt it was his duty to convince me that you and I are wrong for each other."
"Motherfucker."
"I don't care what Frankie says. I let him blather on and then offer the same response every time."
I raise an eyebrow and question, "Which is?"
Laney glares at me and replies, "That while I'm the first to admit that you and I aren't the most likely of couples, it works for us and to let it go." She notices the look on my face and growls, "What? Were you expecting a complete dissertation on how much I love your eyes and smile and…EW. I'm going to make myself sick."
A small smile cracks through my pissed off exterior and I respond, "You love my eyes, huh?"
"I was being…nevermind." I step over next to her and nudge her in the side. She swats at me and says, "That's not what I meant."
"Of course not," I say with a smug grin.
"I mean, your eyes are okay and according to books and stuff, they do act as the window to the soul or something…and well, again, EW."
I wrap my arms around her and kiss the side of her head. I say, "You should've told me about this, Laney Jane."
"Like you tell me every time some girl throws herself at you."
"That's different."
"How so?"
"Because their opinions don't matter to me and Frankie's-I know he's become like your best friend and stuff."
"You're my best friend, stupid."
"You have more in common than we do and I figured that he-you can talk to him about school and-" I stop myself. The word "sacrifice" is on the tip of my tongue, but it refuses to come out right.
Laney places her hand over my mouth and says, "Jesus! For a guy who can be as cocky as you are, I'd think you'd be better at this sort of thing, Justin." She stretches on her toes and presses her lips against mine for a brief kiss. She wraps her arms around my neck and shakes me lightly, "It's like talking to a wall."
"But a hot wall with nice eyes."
"Shut up."
"Maybe I overreacted a little."
"A little? You make John Nash look sane, Justin "
I scowl and reply, "I hate that movie. If you're going to insult me, couldn't you pick a better movie?"
"The point is that you're always harping on about how important trust is-don't you trust me?"
"Of course I do, Laney Jane."
"Then don't worry so much about Frankie."
I shrug. I don't want to make a promise I won't keep. Laney Jane and I don't lie to one another and I'm not going to start now. I change the subject, attempting to get us back to where we're safest, "Maybe you could've said, 'you make Magneto look sane.' At least I enjoy that movie."
"Magneto wasn't insane."
I look at her like she's crazy and counter, "He wanted to kill everyone, Laney Jane."
"No, he wanted to kill non-mutants and only because he feared they would do it first. It's a classic example of survival of the fittest-to avoid brutality sometimes one becomes brutal."
"I thought you were a pacifist."
"I am-but you're arguing that Magneto was insane, when he was actually incapable of trusting human nature. He was picked out once in his life for being different-remember the scene in the concentration camp-and he didn't want that to happen again. Can't say I blame him. It wasn't his fault he was different."
"Yeah, I guess sometimes you can't help it," I say. I pull away from Laney and study her as if she is a piece of art that is supposed to unleash all my emotion. I smile at her and ask, "Do you think a relationship between a mutant and a regular human is possible?"
Laney stares at me for a minute, "I never put that much thought into it actually. I was too enamored with Hugh Jackman. There's something about a man that can shoot knives out of his flesh that makes me swoon."
"You're a strange girl, Laney."
"Uh-huh and your crush on Katharine Hepburn in On Golden Pond is normal."
I point at her, "You were never going to-"
"I was never going to mention it. I know. You're right…Sicko."
"It isn't sexual. She reminds me of my granny," I pause and off the look on her face, quickly add, "And before you go to a bad place, it's an innocent thing. Unlike a certain girl's fantasies about doing naughty things with a man that is half wolf."
"If you say so."
"I do and-and you're changing the subject," I pout. I say, "I'm interested in your answer on this. Is it possible for people so different to get together? I mean, the way the movie presents it, there are a lot of obstacles to get past."
"I guess it's possible. I don't know why it wouldn't be."
"Different worlds."
Laney nods and says, "Sure, but that's only a factor if they let it be. We all make choices, Justin-it's a matter of being able to live with yourself in the morning, I think, and figuring out what's most important to you."
I nod. She's right, I know. She's only regurgitating what I've said since day one-Laney and I might appear too different to everyone else, but that doesn't matter. I reach past her and pick up the remote control to the television. I grin at her and say, "How about some room service and a bad Ashley Judd thriller?"
Her arms wrap around my neck once again and she replies, "How could anyone resist an offer like that? Nothing more romantic than watching Ashley Judd fall for the wrong guy. The girl should know by now that if her husband's accused of murder, it's because he did it."
I kiss her and say, "You know you want to."
She lets go of me and spreads her arms out like they've become a makeshift balancing scale, tilting up and down at opposite ends. She says, "School work or movies with boyfriend...what to do, what to do."
"That better be a rhetorical question, Laney Jane," I say, wrinkling my forehead and arching my eyebrows for effect. I pull her back against me and reply, "I've missed you."
"Me too."
"You weren't too busy with Frankie?" I reply, only half-joking.
Laney slaps me lightly against the back of my head and says, "Why do you make things so difficult sometimes?"
"Because I'm gifted?"
"Do you really think that Frankie is the first person in our eleven year friendship that has questioned me about the logic of our relationship? Do you honestly believe it's not something I've had to come to terms with after all this time, J?"
"I know, but a guy like that screwing with-"
She cuts me off and insists, "I've made my peace with things. I'll admit that it's not always easy, but the good definitely outweighs the bad. Are we clear?"
"Crystal."
"Do you swear?"
I draw a cross on my chest and say, "On my honor."
"And we're cool? You're not going to harbor some grudge against me for not mentioning Frankie's misplaced attempts at saving me?" she asks.
"I do not harbor grudges-that is your thing, sweetie."
"Says the man that still brings up the GI Joe I ran over with my bicycle." She cups my face, kissing me on the cheek, and adds, "Don't let Frankie bother you so much, Justin."
"I won't," I reply. And that's not a lie. I don't plan to let him bother me because I plan to make him go away. Once and for all, this crap with him is going to end. My gut has yet to be wrong about anything and Frank McCauley is up to something. It's my job to figure out what that is.
The only problem I'm going to have is my usual time restraints. How does one balance promoting a new solo album, spending time with his girlfriend, and removing an annoying ass from the girlfriend's life? I decide that I'll have to call Chris and work out a plan with him. He'll most likely bitch and moan, pleading me to stop being a Type-A personality (whatever the hell that means-let a boy go to community college and see what happens), but in the end he'll help me. He always does.
Frankie = bye, bye, bye.
Author's Notes: Sorry this chapter took so long. I was working mad hours, got pneumonia, had surgery, and then just didn't want to write. I hope not to have any long breaks between chapters again, but it is always possible. I apologize. Thanks to my beta-bitches. They rule even if my sister had me cut out six pages! Heh. I also posted pictures of what I pictured Frankie to look like on the yahoo list--if you're a member, feel free to post pictures of how you picture him as well if you like--or don't even look. I don't want to ruin any characters for anyone. Peace out!
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