Chapter Eight: Delaying Schizophrenic
NOTE: This is fiction. Don't bother to send emails if you don't like my portrayal of certain characters (ie: Justin).
You'll be wasting your time and mine. Katie
Christina watched her companion bristle when his former band mate made his second acceptance speech of the awards show. Something about it being ‘way cooler than bubblegum pop.’ To her, it sounded like a slap in the face to the group, the music and the fans that had given him his start. She had a feeling JC felt the slap. “Wanna talk about it, Jace.”
A muscle worked in his tight jaw. “No.” The way he bit off the word gave credence to her theory.
She ran her fingers along the side of his face to his chin. If his teeth were clamped any tighter, they would break. “Baby, the world just hasn’t heard your music yet. You’ll blow them away.”
“C, I don’t wanna talk about this,” he snapped. At her surprised, hurt look, he added, “Babe, it’s like a sore tooth right now. I just need to leave it alone.”
That made her wonder how his meeting with the Jive people had gone. He hadn’t said much, nothing really. His uncommunicative silence had to mean it hadn’t gone well. JC was a brooder.
Christina snuggled close trying to absorb some of his pain. He began stroking her back, soothing is sharp words with his touch. She, of all people, didn’t deserve his anger. He could count on her steadfast support and love. Her faith in him was awesome. “Christina, I’m sorry.”
“Hey, you know if you wanna fight, I’ll go toe to toe.”
“You are one of the last people I want to fight with.”
She nodded towards the television. “And he’d be one of the first?”
“At the moment…yeah, I guess. I’m not much of a fighter.”
She tipped her face up. “That’s okay, I am.”
Kissing the tip of her nose, he chuckled. “You sure are.”
“And I’m a girl. I fight dirty,” she stated proudly.
There was absolutely no doubt in JC’s mind that in defending him she could be a tough little bruiser. “It’s great to know you’re in my corner. I can’t lose.”
“Want me to go punch out Too-Big-for-His-Britches?”
“No, baby.” He smiled for the first time that evening. “I don’t want you to go bruising your pretty hands.” He took her hands and lifted them to his lips, brushing his mouth against her knuckles. “I love the hell outa you, Christina Chandler.”
“Then let’s turn off Ick Boy and go upstairs. You’ve been gone a whole five days.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
It took several days of JC moping about Christiana’s house before he finally told her Jive had pushed back the release of his album, hence not promoting him.
“Why?” She had just gotten back from a meeting, looking much as she had the day they had met. She stopped flipping through the mail when he made his announcement, giving him her full attention.
“I can’t say it’s because I’m not ready…”
“A lot of double talk, huh?”
JC nodded. He looked like a disappointed little boy except he had several days of growth of beard.
“And I bet some of it had to do with Diva Brat,” she grumbled as she tossed the mail on the side table and went to him. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You always are so decent. It pisses me off when people treat you shabbily.”
“Maybe I should warn them that you’re a girl and you fight dirty.” He tried to diminish his discontent with a joke.
“Why warn them? Just let me at ‘em.”
“Part pixie…part bruiser…and loyal as hell.” He gave her a sad smile. “How was I lucky enough to find you?”
“I mean it, JC. I’ll take him down a few pegs and he’ll know exactly what hit him.”
“I know you would, C…and the thought that you want to take my fight on…” No one but his family had stood so firm. But his family was non-violent…Christina was an army brat who had been scrapping her entire life. Suddenly, he hugged her tight. “I love you, Christina.”
“I love you, too, Jace.”
“This really tears it!” Christina raged, childishly tossing the magazine with Justin Timberlake’s face on it to the floor. With gusto she ground the heel of her pump into it, shredding the cover. “Just who in the hell does he think he is?”
JC looked up at her from his seat on the sofa. His eyes were sad and hurt. He’d read the article too. He couldn’t believe the things Justin had supposedly said. Hurtful, callous, careless things. It was like his bandmate wanted to deep-six *NSYNC as if he had hated all of it, that his successes had been the end result of his talent alone.
Christina turned to catch his gaze. “Aww, baby, I’m so sorry.” Going to where he sat, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, letting his forehead rest against her middle. “Want me to go beat the shit outa him? He’d fit in a shoebox then.”
In spite of himself, JC found himself chuckling. Christina was so fierce in her love for him protecting his concerns. She never hesitated to step in when JC’s best interests were not being served. As weak as it sounded, he let her. She was much more savvy and tough than he was. Sometimes they ended up playing good cop/bad cop with Christina as the enforcer to be dealt with. No expected the little hottie to be able to chop them off at the knees like a chainsaw.
“It just makes me so mad. They keep pushing you to the backburner and his smarmy face is everywhere.”
“I love the way you love, C,” he told her, tipping his head back to catch her eyes. “It’s like as long as you’re behind me, nothing can stop me, there’s nothing I can’t do.”
She rattled on as if he had never spoken. “I don’t understand these assholes. The Drumline soundtrack said Spring 2003…then August…then October…then so on…Now February 2004 –a vague February at that! Are they deliberately trying to tank you?”
“Shh…” he soothed. “Christina, baby, let it go.”
“I don’t like to see you hurt like this. It isn’t fair and it makes me furious. He had his shot. Bully for him. Is his ego so immense he can’t step back and say, ‘It’s JC’s turn in the spotlight.’?”
Even JC had to wonder what had happened to Justin. He wasn’t sure the other man would ever want to share the spotlight again with the other four again. “I just don’t know,” he whispered.
“Does he think no one else has feelings or say?”
“Christina…” he tugged her down astride his thighs. “This solo shot…yeah, now that I’ve done it; I want it out there. But I’ve grown so much and I’ve gain peer respect…If is doesn’t fly, well, I’ll be cool. I did my thing with no compromise – and I have you.” He saw the roiling frustration in her eyes. All that anger was on his behalf. “In a way it has been good.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it has shown me the mettle of the woman I love.”
“I haven’t done anything – yet.”
“But I have never known someone so willing to defend me, fight for me.”
Christina stroked his unruly hair back and rested them on his neck. “I don’t know any other way to love. I give everything over to it.”
“Awesome.”
“I hope you think so, because there is no changing me.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing about my baby girl.”
“Not a thing?”
“Not one thing.”
“Not even me being bossy?”
JC chuckled. “I am cool with my bossy baby.”
“Good.” She lowered her mouth just a half an inch from his. “Take me upstairs and make hot, freaky love to me,” she murmured.
“You’re the boss.”
It was JC’s misfortune not to notice Justin’s entrance into the club with his entourage. Before he could stop her, Christina was making a beeline for Justin. “C…” he called but she either couldn’t hear him or ignored him. “Christina…” He tried one more time before following her.
Christina wanted to slap the smarmy expression off Timberlake’s face when he motioned his people his people to let her pass.
“Hello, pretty lady…”
“Can it, Timberfake. I’m not a fan,” Christina growled.
Justin laughed her off. “I have enough without you.”
“Just for the record, Ick Boy, I think you are a whiney ass primadonna who is letting his ego carry him away. NSYNC made you.” She took a quick breath before she continued. “JC Chasez has more talent in his big toe than you’ll ever possess. He’s the real deal…”
“Christina baby…” JC came and stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders.
“I should have guessed,” Justin sneered. “The little pitbull with the big mouth belongs to you.”
Once again Christina beat JC to the punch. She grabbed the front of Justin’s shirt and yanked him down to her eye level.
“Yeah. I’m his…but unlike JC, I don’t mind a good fight.”
“I suggest you let me go before I …” Justin threatened.
“Before you what? Have your thugs remove me?” She pushed him back, releasing his shirt. “Have me tossed out perhaps?”
Justin shrugged his shoulders back to straighten his shirt. “I’ll call the manager.”
“Oh, please, do,” she purred. “You have no idea who I am.”
A moment later a man of perhaps 50 appeared, smiling warmly at Christina. “Is there a problem here, Miss Chandler?”
“No, George. I was telling Mr. Timberfake here what a wonderful place this is and how I’ve enjoyed it for years.”
JC watched his spitfire go to lady in no time flat… and lie through her pearly teeth.
“That is very kind of you.” George beamed. “You are generous.”
“George, may I introduce my friend JC Chasez?” She took JC’s hand and urged him forward.
“Any friend of the divine Christina is always welcome,” the manager shook the other man’s hand.
“We’d like a bottle of Cristal brought to my table.”
“Certainly. Immediately.”
“Oh, by the way, how is Lisa doing?”
A proud grin appeared on the man’s face. “She starts her internship next month…all thanks to you.”
“She did it herself.”
“You are much too modest.”
“Tell her I am glad she is doing well.”
“I certainly will. I will see to your table.”
As the man hurried away, Justin glared at Christina.
“Know who you are fighting with next time, little boy.”
Dismissing him, she put her back to him and took JC’s arm. “Shall we go to our table, darling?”
Shaking his head in amazement, he muttered, “I have a feeling it is the best in the house.”
She laughed. “Of course it is!”
And it was the prime location in the club…one could see the entire dance floor and stage from the perch.
“I take it that George thinks you walk on water,” JC noted once the champagne was delivered, open and poured for the couple.
“We are friends,” Christina said.
“No, he worships you.”
“When he had just opened this club, his daughter Lisa was injured. All his money was sunk in the club and he had no insurance.” She shrugged it off. “I helped with hospital bills.”
This was not the first time he had heard of her quiet style of philanthropy. Christina seemed to cultivate loyalty by helping people less fortunate. “You are a piece of work, Miss Chandler. A priceless masterpiece.”
“I’m just a woman doing her best.”
“You are more than ‘just’ anything. You’re loyal and strong. You’re a fighter and a lady and friend…”
“I’m going to get a swelled head, so you had better stop,” she chided him.
“C…”
“Did I embarrass you?” she asked abruptly.
“What? When?”
“When I confronted Timberfake.”
JC chuckled. “Baby, you’ve got to stop that. One of these days, I am gonna slip up and call him that.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It so fits…you didn’t answer my question.”
“No, you did not embarrass me. I was worried for you, what might happen and maybe bad press for you.”
“Can he make trouble for you? With Jive or whatever?”
“I don’t see how it could get worse,” he stated glumly.
Christina reached for his hand. “I’m sorry. Can we buy you out or shop your album to another label? The way this is going, the soundtrack for the movie will come out first.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Let me kick some Jive ass?”
He had no doubt his baby would definitely take on Jive for him. Christina would battle heaven and hell for someone she loved…“You think I’m a wimp.”
“What? Never!”
“I let you do the scrapping and the defending…”
“Jace, we’re different people with different personalities and upbringings. It isn’t in your nature to fight. I understand that. I think we compliment each other.”
“Do you really, C?”
Her smile was gentle and full of love. “I really do, JC. Now that I know you, I can’t imagine my world without you.”
He reached over and touched her cheek. “I don’t wanna remember a world without you, babe.”
“So we’re okay?”
“We’re fucking fantastic, Christina.”
Christina burst out laughing when she checked the morning gossip column in the paper.
“What?” JC asked as he drank his coffee at the kitchen table.
She tossed the paper at him so it landed with the column up. “Read it.”