Nichelle Channing was the music industries most ruthless music critic writing for some highly regarded magazines such as Rolling Stone, Billboard, and Ebony. She took absolutely no prisoners when it came to her criticism. She kept her identity discreet only because she, being some what of a reporter herself, knew how dirty the press could be and didn’t want to become the butt-end of a newsreel. It was said that once you saw your name in an article written by the “brutal” Ms. Channing or Nasty Nichelle that your future in pop, rap, rock, country, or any other genre of composition was down the shit hole.

Her last conquest happened to be a group known as ‘Dream Street’ who she affectionately renamed ‘Nightmare on Elem. Street’ noting that they were that of five little girls with the vocals of a nasal whine.

She smiled broadly reading her own quote from the local newspaper. The rain, she noted, had slowed some as she went to the kitchen to refill her coffee mug.

It wasn’t often she was praised rather then snubbed for speaking her mind. It was nice that at least some people supported her especially in her own hometown of Arlington, Texas. She was a southern girl at heart, being taught all the rules of a typical southern débutante.
Now that she thought about it she was very surprised that mobs of angry soccer moms weren’t knocking down her door with complaints about the horrendous things that came from her. It was like tradition in her town that young girls dreamt of meeting their ‘Prince Charming’, marrying them and having two perfect children, but not Nichelle R. Channing. While other girls were playing house, experimenting with make-up or dating, she was being interned at the local newspaper; The Arlington Leader.

She didn’t let that bother her though, not everyone follows the same path, she thought. At least that’s what she reassured herself of, being a 23 year old single woman living alone with nothing to credit her but her smart mouth, blossoming career as a writer and Boston terrier, Baby, who, at the moment, was sprawled out on the kitchen floor mat.

“Hey baby, how you doin’ today?”

She cooed while picking up the little black and white dog. Baby was her only real friend. She wasn’t antisocial or anything but when it came to people she had a real hard time with trust. Especially after 4 years wasted on her Ex, Ramier. It just didn’t seem worth the heartache, putting herself out there again, making herself vulnerable to lives inevitable twists and turns. Well, she thought, if they were inevitable then she would put them off for as long as humanly possible.
********
Justin Timberlake on the other hand was running head first into every twist and turn life threw. It wasn’t like him to back down from anything.

“Yo Johnny did you talk to Pharrell about the Z100 Jingle Ball? Nah man I thought he could come out with me and help. Do you honestly think she’s comin’ with me? Come on man use that what-looks-good-in-newspapers-management savvy mind of yours. Ha yea maybe Luna’s momma can come. Shut up! Aight dude you get back to me with that. Aight then. Peace.”

Luna’s momma or the infamous Alyssa Milano. That was a laugh riot, he thought as he placed the phone back on its cradle. And how long had that lasted? Hmmm about a few weeks? He couldn’t remember and didn’t seem too keen on wanting to. She was fun, beautiful and intelligent, a little too intelligent for his taste. Now he wasn’t a Playboy or at least he'd never considered himself one , he just liked to 'spread' the love, as he so respectfully put it.

Propping his new Nikes up on his smooth Oak desk he thought back to all the love he had spread in the last month. Nancy; the cute redhead, Darcy; the sassy blonde, Marina; the sexy brunette with the Latin accent and how could he forget Andrea & Alexia; the identical twins. He bit his knuckle and smiled at the thought of them.

A knock at the door interrupted his very explicit daydream. He straightened in his seat and caught sight of his best friend, Trace Ayala.

“Man what the hell you doin’ here?”

Justin asked standing to greet the friend he hadn’t seen in months, due to Trace’s recent engagement to Kirsten Dunst. It amazed Justin everyday that out of all the people he had known he never expected Trace to be the first to settle down. He couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to spend the rest of their potential lives with just one person who would eventually become more wrinkled then the excess skin on your elbow.

Trace smiled in that corky half grin he always used to charm or, in Justin’s opinion, to annoy. “I’m here looking for your dumb ass stupid.”

They caught each other in a masculine hug. “Man you look like utter shit! What’s been going on? What brings you here?” He asked and took a seat a top his desk.

“Dude, Kiears and I were just in the neighborhood and thought we’d drop by.” Trace spoke lightly noticing the friendly smile Justin had seconds before fell slightly at the mention of his fiancée.

They could faintly hear Kirsten’s voice as she walked steady down the hallway coming closer to Justin’s office door.

“Yes mom Trace and I are just fine. Of course we're going dress shopping! Who else would I go with?" Trace rolled his eyes at the excitment in her voice and made gagging noises. "Ok mom well Trace and I are with a friend right now. Mmhmm I’ll be sure to tell him that." She giggled glancing at Trace from the doorway. "Yes ma’am. I love you too. Ok bye.”

Kirsten strolled fully into the office with a grace that made Justin, for only an instant, jealous of Trace and his luck. He watched as she walked over and greeted Trace the same way that he suspected any couple in love would. "Oh, mom said next time you want to show your dislike of something, try to be more discreet with the gagging." She beamed before turning away and plastering on an almost believable grin.

“Hello Justin.” She tried her best to put on the most convincing smile possible but he could see right through the act. He couldn’t really blame her. He hadn’t exactly tried to befriend her when Trace first introduced her as his fiancée.

“Hey Kirsten, How have you been? Not too busy planning the wedding I hope. Wouldn’t want Tracy to have nothing to do, He wouldn’t know what to do with out you.”

She didn’t know if she should take that as a compliment or an underhanded insult. She decided she wouldn’t make a scene as the corners of her mouth twitched. “I know what you mean.” She threw a wicked smile Trace’s way and winked.

“Umm I am in the room, Geez.” He laughed. He was glad they were having a civil conversation. He had started to debt weather to bring Kirsten with him or make up an excuse so he wouldn’t have to deal with their squabbling.

“So what are guys up to today? I was just headed to lunch. I know your hungry Trace. And don’t try to tell me you already ate because I know for a fact that you eat like a horse. Six full three course meals wouldn’t tide you over. So I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Trace rolled his eyes in mock annoyance as Kirsten tried her best to contain her laughter.

“Well I guess we’re off to lunch then. But you’re paying because I know for a fact that you could afford six full three course meals. And you’re damn right, I’d eat it all with a big ass smile on my face the whole entire time.” He finished and proudly walked out the door listening to the snickers his best friend and fiancée threw his way.

<< stories index | chapter 2 >>