Blurred Chapter one -- revised a little {I think I fixed the radio/tv station confusion}
"Unless you've been in a coma or living under a rock for the past twenty years, our special guests on the Barry and Jenna Morning Show need no introduction. That's right, right here in our studio, live and breathing and across from us, are none other than the recently reunited *NSYNC!! Can you hear the shrill screams of thrills now going across the listening area?"
"No, you don't have the whole reunited group there, Jackass" Justin Timberlake muttered to the radio as he took yet another wrong turn. "Damn! Why fuck didn't I leave earlier? Or at least have a better idea where the station is?"
He pulled into a gas station parking lot and slowly counted to ten. What was he so nervous about? It's not like this was a huge deal or anything and they were all counting on him to pull it together for this. It's not like they hadn't been waiting on him for the past ten years to finally say yes, either.
"So the whole city's buzzing about you guys being here. It's been years since you've performed together as a group and now here you are, with your reunion tour and CD of new songs, which, I might add, are incredible. You guys wrote all of these, right? Or is it one of those deals that Elvis had where his name was tacked on to every song, whether he wrote them or not. Hey, look at the phone lines lit up! We have everyone and their granny waiting to talk to you guys. But where is the big star of the day?"
Justin gave serious thought about going in and asking for directions, then decided screw it. Asking for directions was for women and he was just not going to do it. He slammed the car into reverse and backed out of the parking space. He heard the tires squeal and knew people were looking at him. Who cares, he thought as he glanced at the time on the radio display.
Damn!
He should have been at the radio station more than 15 minutes ago. This was not something in his character. Ever. Or at least not in many years. And who the hell did this disc jockey think she was making fun of him like she was. He hadn't had that huge rock star ego in a long time. Or so he had convinced himself.
He waited for a break in the traffic before he peeled out of the parking lot and made his way back onto the interstate. He could have even gone with the other guys…but noooo. He had to do some sightseeing for his latest environmentalist campaign. Just a leisurely drive along the roads of this godforsaken state and see what he could do to help clean it up.
Great going, Timberlake, he chastised himself, you could have played Captain Planet later. You knew you had the radio interview and then the news station right after.
For all intents and purposes, he had totally blown off the radio appearance. Now, that would look great for the gossip that was going around about the *NSYNC reunion being over before it even started and it was going to be all his fault. Just as everything else had been with them.
Justin glanced up in time to see the brake lights of the minivan in front of him precariously close. Going on sheer instinct, he slammed on his brakes and swerved to keep from a very personal meeting between the van and his car. Cursing, at whom he wasn’t sure, he ignored the blaring horns behind him as he forced his way into the other lane of traffic. Road rage. Yes, that’s what he was feeling at the moment. Let someone pull up next to him and he’d show them what it meant to be taken out by an *NSYNC'er.
As if on cue to bring him back to the moment, he heard the voices of his four reunited band-mates come across the speakers of the radio, laughing and very jovial. Damn them right now.
"And is anyone really surprised that it's Justin that's not here? He only kept everyone waiting how many years?" Chris cackled into the microphone. "Hurry up, J. I'd like to get this done before I turn fifty!"
“I’ll kill him,” Justin muttered.
“I’m sure he has a good explanation for not being here,” the disc jockey suggested, expressing a bit of pity for the missing member.
“Actually, he does,” Lance said, a smile in his voice. “He insisted checking out the conditions of the roadways here. He had heard bad things about what people were doing to the environment and just wanted a little time by himself to see if it’s true.”
Thank you, Lance, Justin gave mental kudos to him. You’re now my favorite person in the whole world.
“Either that, or he was abducted by some nut and is being held prisoner in a shack off in the woods and they’re re-enacting that scene from ‘Deliverance’."
Okay. Joey is now at the top of my list. Oh yeah, man. You just replaced your buddy Lance by about a thousand points. Justin reached over and snapped the radio off, almost taking the knob off in the process.
"Breathe, Timberlake, just breathe."
As soon as he said it, the tune to that song popped in his head and he began humming it. Faith Hill’s still quite a looker, he mused, following the traffic onto the exit ramp from the interstate. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered that particular exit number for some reason.
This must be where I need to get off, he reasoned.
He barely slowed down from the 85 miles per hour he was doing on the interstate. 70 seemed like a pretty good number, especially since traffic was getting thinner through here and he wasn’t anywhere near a school zone. At least, he didn’t think he was. He looked at clock on the radio again. The radio interview should be over with now and the others should be on their way to the television studio. Great. I’m gonna be late for that, too.
He didn’t even pay attention to the light turning red as he sped through it.
~*~
“Well, what do we have here?” Kirbie Angell said to herself as she caught sight of the blur whizzing past her.
She hadn’t been hidden from sight, so surely this should be a good excuse. She pulled the cruiser onto the street and gunned the engine, catching up to the vehicle in no time. She glanced at her speedometer - 70. Did this joker even realize how fast he was going? Her radar gun had clocked him somewhere past 80. He had slowed down some to keep control of the vehicle. Amateurs, she thought, flipping on the lights and sirens.
~*~
“What the hell?” Justin said aloud, hearing the noise and glancing in his rear view mirror at the flashing lights.
He eased over to let the police car pass by and was honestly dismayed when it did not go around him. He uttered a string of profanity that even Joey would blush to hear as he glanced at his speedometer and knew instantly he was the one the lights were for. Making sure his turning signal was on, he made his way to the side of the street. This was just too much.
“Dispatch, the suspect has pulled over,” Kirbie said into her radio mic. “I’m approaching now, stand by.”
Kirbie stepped out of her patrol car, pulling herself up to her full 5’9” frame. She knew back up would be there in a few minutes. They always sent it when she stopped someone. Adjusting her duty belt, she stepped menacingly towards the gray SUV, subconsciously taking note of the rental tag.
“How are you doing today, sir?” She asked, standing a safe distance from the vehicle.
“Fine, Officer. Yourself?” Justin asked.
Oh, this was going to be too easy. A woman cop. He’d use the old charm and be out of this in a second.
“Quite well, thank you. Do you know why I stopped you, sir?” Kirbie inquired, doing a quick visual sweep of the interior of the vehicle, checking for weapons or paraphernalia.
Because you need to meet a quota and seeing this car, you just assumed the driver would have some money.
“No, ma’am. I don’t.” He flashed a grin at her.
“Can I see your license and registration, please?”
“Yes. Just one second,” he said, making a big show of unbuckling his seat belt.
He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He pulled the license from the plastic casing and handed it to her.
“Your registration as well,” Kirbie said, looking at his license.
“It’s a rental. I don’t have registration papers.” Charming smile again.
“Check the glove box, Mr…Timberlake? If they’re not there, I’ll take the papers showing where you rented it.”
Justin leaned across the front seat to open the glove box. The door fell down with a loud crash as its contents spilled onto the floor.
“Stop right there!” Kirbie said forcefully, her hand on the holster, ready to draw.
“Easy, lady! I don’t have anything in here,” Justin told her, somewhat nervous by her sudden change in demeanor.
Did he look like a criminal to her?
“Just leave the papers on the floor, Mr. Timberlake, and step out of the vehicle.”
“What?!” This was getting ridiculous.
“I said step out of the vehicle, Mr. Timberlake. Now.”
“Okay,” he said, holding his hands up.
This was too funny. If any of the guys ever got wind of it, they would never let him live it down.
“Stand there next to the vehicle and keep your hands where I can see them,” she instructed, stepping back from him.
“Why did you pull me over to start with?” Justin suddenly asked, growing irritated by this little charade.
“I clocked you doing 88.6 when you ran the red light back there,” Kirbie informed him as her back up arrived.
Justin squinted in the sun, wishing he had brought his shades with him when he got out. This is one tall chick, he thought, casting a quick appreciative glance over her. Surely, this can end better than it started.
He remained with his back to the car while Kirbie went to her cruiser and spoke with someone on the police radio. The new officer looked through the papers that had fallen out of the dash.
Please, don’t let there be anything in there from the last renter, Justin prayed silently.
“Okay, Mr. Timberlake, you seem to check out all right,” Kirbie said, handing him back his license. “Please sign here. You’re not wanted for anything.”
Justin actually laughed out loud. Was she flirting with him? If so, he had the perfect comeback line. Dare he use it?
“Here you go,” Kirbie said, handing him a slip of paper. “All the information you need is there. You are welcome to pay the fines and don’t have to bother with going to court.”
Justin glanced down at the piece of yellow paper in his hand. Three hundred and sixty four dollars? What the hell was this about?
“Drive safely, Mr. Timberlake,” Kirbie said, waiting for him to get back in his vehicle and be on his merry way.
“Wait a minute,” he said, the infamous Justin Timberlake diva temper tantrum was about to make a return. “You can’t charge me this ridiculous amount!”
“Excuse me?” Kirbie asked, somewhat bored. She had heard it all before.
“First off, I’ll admit to speeding, but that light was not red when I went under it. And aggravated speeding? Come on, that’s not a real charge!”
Kirbie listened, amused. Again, she had heard it all before.
“I’m sorry, sir. If you wish, you can contest it in court. Just call the police station to get the date. I have to be going now.”
“I do, too. But dammit, I’m not going anywhere owing this city money for some trumped up traffic charges! Do you have any idea who I am?” He finally exploded.
“According to your license, you are Mr. Justin Randall Timberlake of…”
“I know where the hell I live! Do you know who I am and what I do for a living?”
Obviously not something that requires dealing with people, Kirbie bit back the comment.
“No, sir. The NCIC doesn’t have that information. I’m sure that what ever it is, you enjoy it. Now, for your best interest, please get back in your vehicle.”
“Angell, everything all right up here?” Officer Suddeth asked, interrupting the shouting.
Despite being as tough as she was, he was always the one who was her back up. He had trained her straight out of the academy and knew how she operated.
“Yeah. Mr. Timberlake was just leaving,” Kirbie said coolly, glaring at Justin behind her mirrored sunglasses.
Justin knew then it was pointless. He’d get out of it later. Right now, he had to get to the television station since this little fiasco had caused him to miss the radio interview entirely.
“Angell,” he muttered, rolling up the window. “HA! That’s a misnomer if ever there was.”
"No, you don't have the whole reunited group there, Jackass" Justin Timberlake muttered to the radio as he took yet another wrong turn. "Damn! Why fuck didn't I leave earlier? Or at least have a better idea where the station is?"
He pulled into a gas station parking lot and slowly counted to ten. What was he so nervous about? It's not like this was a huge deal or anything and they were all counting on him to pull it together for this. It's not like they hadn't been waiting on him for the past ten years to finally say yes, either.
"So the whole city's buzzing about you guys being here. It's been years since you've performed together as a group and now here you are, with your reunion tour and CD of new songs, which, I might add, are incredible. You guys wrote all of these, right? Or is it one of those deals that Elvis had where his name was tacked on to every song, whether he wrote them or not. Hey, look at the phone lines lit up! We have everyone and their granny waiting to talk to you guys. But where is the big star of the day?"
Justin gave serious thought about going in and asking for directions, then decided screw it. Asking for directions was for women and he was just not going to do it. He slammed the car into reverse and backed out of the parking space. He heard the tires squeal and knew people were looking at him. Who cares, he thought as he glanced at the time on the radio display.
Damn!
He should have been at the radio station more than 15 minutes ago. This was not something in his character. Ever. Or at least not in many years. And who the hell did this disc jockey think she was making fun of him like she was. He hadn't had that huge rock star ego in a long time. Or so he had convinced himself.
He waited for a break in the traffic before he peeled out of the parking lot and made his way back onto the interstate. He could have even gone with the other guys…but noooo. He had to do some sightseeing for his latest environmentalist campaign. Just a leisurely drive along the roads of this godforsaken state and see what he could do to help clean it up.
Great going, Timberlake, he chastised himself, you could have played Captain Planet later. You knew you had the radio interview and then the news station right after.
For all intents and purposes, he had totally blown off the radio appearance. Now, that would look great for the gossip that was going around about the *NSYNC reunion being over before it even started and it was going to be all his fault. Just as everything else had been with them.
Justin glanced up in time to see the brake lights of the minivan in front of him precariously close. Going on sheer instinct, he slammed on his brakes and swerved to keep from a very personal meeting between the van and his car. Cursing, at whom he wasn’t sure, he ignored the blaring horns behind him as he forced his way into the other lane of traffic. Road rage. Yes, that’s what he was feeling at the moment. Let someone pull up next to him and he’d show them what it meant to be taken out by an *NSYNC'er.
As if on cue to bring him back to the moment, he heard the voices of his four reunited band-mates come across the speakers of the radio, laughing and very jovial. Damn them right now.
"And is anyone really surprised that it's Justin that's not here? He only kept everyone waiting how many years?" Chris cackled into the microphone. "Hurry up, J. I'd like to get this done before I turn fifty!"
“I’ll kill him,” Justin muttered.
“I’m sure he has a good explanation for not being here,” the disc jockey suggested, expressing a bit of pity for the missing member.
“Actually, he does,” Lance said, a smile in his voice. “He insisted checking out the conditions of the roadways here. He had heard bad things about what people were doing to the environment and just wanted a little time by himself to see if it’s true.”
Thank you, Lance, Justin gave mental kudos to him. You’re now my favorite person in the whole world.
“Either that, or he was abducted by some nut and is being held prisoner in a shack off in the woods and they’re re-enacting that scene from ‘Deliverance’."
Okay. Joey is now at the top of my list. Oh yeah, man. You just replaced your buddy Lance by about a thousand points. Justin reached over and snapped the radio off, almost taking the knob off in the process.
"Breathe, Timberlake, just breathe."
As soon as he said it, the tune to that song popped in his head and he began humming it. Faith Hill’s still quite a looker, he mused, following the traffic onto the exit ramp from the interstate. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered that particular exit number for some reason.
This must be where I need to get off, he reasoned.
He barely slowed down from the 85 miles per hour he was doing on the interstate. 70 seemed like a pretty good number, especially since traffic was getting thinner through here and he wasn’t anywhere near a school zone. At least, he didn’t think he was. He looked at clock on the radio again. The radio interview should be over with now and the others should be on their way to the television studio. Great. I’m gonna be late for that, too.
He didn’t even pay attention to the light turning red as he sped through it.
~*~
“Well, what do we have here?” Kirbie Angell said to herself as she caught sight of the blur whizzing past her.
She hadn’t been hidden from sight, so surely this should be a good excuse. She pulled the cruiser onto the street and gunned the engine, catching up to the vehicle in no time. She glanced at her speedometer - 70. Did this joker even realize how fast he was going? Her radar gun had clocked him somewhere past 80. He had slowed down some to keep control of the vehicle. Amateurs, she thought, flipping on the lights and sirens.
~*~
“What the hell?” Justin said aloud, hearing the noise and glancing in his rear view mirror at the flashing lights.
He eased over to let the police car pass by and was honestly dismayed when it did not go around him. He uttered a string of profanity that even Joey would blush to hear as he glanced at his speedometer and knew instantly he was the one the lights were for. Making sure his turning signal was on, he made his way to the side of the street. This was just too much.
“Dispatch, the suspect has pulled over,” Kirbie said into her radio mic. “I’m approaching now, stand by.”
Kirbie stepped out of her patrol car, pulling herself up to her full 5’9” frame. She knew back up would be there in a few minutes. They always sent it when she stopped someone. Adjusting her duty belt, she stepped menacingly towards the gray SUV, subconsciously taking note of the rental tag.
“How are you doing today, sir?” She asked, standing a safe distance from the vehicle.
“Fine, Officer. Yourself?” Justin asked.
Oh, this was going to be too easy. A woman cop. He’d use the old charm and be out of this in a second.
“Quite well, thank you. Do you know why I stopped you, sir?” Kirbie inquired, doing a quick visual sweep of the interior of the vehicle, checking for weapons or paraphernalia.
Because you need to meet a quota and seeing this car, you just assumed the driver would have some money.
“No, ma’am. I don’t.” He flashed a grin at her.
“Can I see your license and registration, please?”
“Yes. Just one second,” he said, making a big show of unbuckling his seat belt.
He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He pulled the license from the plastic casing and handed it to her.
“Your registration as well,” Kirbie said, looking at his license.
“It’s a rental. I don’t have registration papers.” Charming smile again.
“Check the glove box, Mr…Timberlake? If they’re not there, I’ll take the papers showing where you rented it.”
Justin leaned across the front seat to open the glove box. The door fell down with a loud crash as its contents spilled onto the floor.
“Stop right there!” Kirbie said forcefully, her hand on the holster, ready to draw.
“Easy, lady! I don’t have anything in here,” Justin told her, somewhat nervous by her sudden change in demeanor.
Did he look like a criminal to her?
“Just leave the papers on the floor, Mr. Timberlake, and step out of the vehicle.”
“What?!” This was getting ridiculous.
“I said step out of the vehicle, Mr. Timberlake. Now.”
“Okay,” he said, holding his hands up.
This was too funny. If any of the guys ever got wind of it, they would never let him live it down.
“Stand there next to the vehicle and keep your hands where I can see them,” she instructed, stepping back from him.
“Why did you pull me over to start with?” Justin suddenly asked, growing irritated by this little charade.
“I clocked you doing 88.6 when you ran the red light back there,” Kirbie informed him as her back up arrived.
Justin squinted in the sun, wishing he had brought his shades with him when he got out. This is one tall chick, he thought, casting a quick appreciative glance over her. Surely, this can end better than it started.
He remained with his back to the car while Kirbie went to her cruiser and spoke with someone on the police radio. The new officer looked through the papers that had fallen out of the dash.
Please, don’t let there be anything in there from the last renter, Justin prayed silently.
“Okay, Mr. Timberlake, you seem to check out all right,” Kirbie said, handing him back his license. “Please sign here. You’re not wanted for anything.”
Justin actually laughed out loud. Was she flirting with him? If so, he had the perfect comeback line. Dare he use it?
“Here you go,” Kirbie said, handing him a slip of paper. “All the information you need is there. You are welcome to pay the fines and don’t have to bother with going to court.”
Justin glanced down at the piece of yellow paper in his hand. Three hundred and sixty four dollars? What the hell was this about?
“Drive safely, Mr. Timberlake,” Kirbie said, waiting for him to get back in his vehicle and be on his merry way.
“Wait a minute,” he said, the infamous Justin Timberlake diva temper tantrum was about to make a return. “You can’t charge me this ridiculous amount!”
“Excuse me?” Kirbie asked, somewhat bored. She had heard it all before.
“First off, I’ll admit to speeding, but that light was not red when I went under it. And aggravated speeding? Come on, that’s not a real charge!”
Kirbie listened, amused. Again, she had heard it all before.
“I’m sorry, sir. If you wish, you can contest it in court. Just call the police station to get the date. I have to be going now.”
“I do, too. But dammit, I’m not going anywhere owing this city money for some trumped up traffic charges! Do you have any idea who I am?” He finally exploded.
“According to your license, you are Mr. Justin Randall Timberlake of…”
“I know where the hell I live! Do you know who I am and what I do for a living?”
Obviously not something that requires dealing with people, Kirbie bit back the comment.
“No, sir. The NCIC doesn’t have that information. I’m sure that what ever it is, you enjoy it. Now, for your best interest, please get back in your vehicle.”
“Angell, everything all right up here?” Officer Suddeth asked, interrupting the shouting.
Despite being as tough as she was, he was always the one who was her back up. He had trained her straight out of the academy and knew how she operated.
“Yeah. Mr. Timberlake was just leaving,” Kirbie said coolly, glaring at Justin behind her mirrored sunglasses.
Justin knew then it was pointless. He’d get out of it later. Right now, he had to get to the television station since this little fiasco had caused him to miss the radio interview entirely.
“Angell,” he muttered, rolling up the window. “HA! That’s a misnomer if ever there was.”