you went with justin to the airport cause he didn't want to be alone waiting for britney.  not that any of you were ever alone -- you always had bodyguards -- but he wanted you.  "jc, come with me," he'd said, "you're the best company when i'm waiting for her."

that was way too close to the truth.

you've watched them together for almost three years now, and it still stings every time you see them kiss.  it's funny, what people say, that they're just a set-up, a front, a smokescreen for some other real relationship.  you've heard the rumors.  he's really with some random quiet girl from home, she's really with wade, but you laughed those off.  they were kinda funny.  especially cause you knew how close they really were.  there was no way either of them was really seeing someone else.

you watch him kiss her again, pulling her close.  they're both in hats and sunglasses, so the picture is somewhat distorted, but it's definitely still them.  justin and britney.  more perfect than perfection itself.

no, there is no way they're not in love.

the random theories about smokescreens were funny to you for awhile -- until you started hearing that he was faking being with her because he was really with you.  "justin and jc are so getting it on," went the rumors -- the rumors that fueled your daydreams, and your dreams at night, too.

god how you wanted that to be true.  even as you stand there, watching them say their hellos, you're aching for him to leave her side and run to you, grab you, kiss you.  it's all you've ever wanted.

but there is no way.  no way in hell.  never.  not in a million years.  only in your wildest dreams.  no way.  no.

and it stung.

you look back at britney, making doe eyes at justin, and him gazing adoringly back -- and you look away before the knife has a chance to twist in your heart.

it's three days later and you're back in the same spot, the same gate at the airport even, but this time there are tears and pouts instead of joyful smiles.  there are, of course, still kisses.  you watch as justin's quick pink tongue eases between britney's parted lips and damn if you don't think for the millionth time what his tongue would feel like easing into your mouth instead.

damn if you don't get hard watching him kiss her.  it's not watching them kiss that turns you on, god no, it's watching him.  he's left his hat at home this time, and his new short brown curls, curls that you're still getting used to again after a summer of short fuzz, are all mussed and soft looking.  when britney finally pulls away and disappears onto the plane with her entourage, justin turns to you with sad blue eyes.  you want to kiss away his tears.  but you don't.  he's britney's.  he's not yours.  you chew your bottom lip and say, "want to go home, J?"  when he nods, you take him home.

that night your house is big and lonely, just like always.  the phone rings, but you don't pick it up.  you stare out into your moonlit backyard, wishing on the stars reflected in the swimming pool.  your wishes revolve around justin, though not selfishly for your own gain.  you want him to be happy.  you want all to be well in his world.  should his happiness coincide with making your own dream come true -- well, that would be incredible, but you're not asking anything for yourself, not really.  not usually.  maybe just once.  just once you let it slip that all you've ever really wanted in the world is his lips on yours and murmured endearments from him as you slip off to sleep.  that's all.  just love.  his love.  justin's love.

when you're swallowing tears, you turn from the window and check your voice mail.  one message.  you sigh as you hear his voice.  "yo C, it's justin, i was just lonely.  call me."

"i'm lonely, too, justin," you whisper at the end of his message, but you don't call him.  his lonely is for britney and your lonely is for him and you can't hold him through this one, not tonight, not ever anymore, he's on his own.

you go to sleep without undressing and wake up in your rumpled green cotton button-down and jeans.

you dreamt about him again, and again he wasn't there when you woke up.  you sigh and open your eyes.

"hey, josh."

justin.  you close your eyes tight.  not today, not this morning, no!

"i let myself in, is that ok?" he says.  you still say nothing.  "i know you're awake, C, and i have great news.  brit's coming back the day after tomorrow.  i can't wait to see her.  will you come pick her up with me?  huh?  please?  you're the best to have with for company."

"sure, justin," you whisper, already dead inside.  "yeah, i'll be there."

"yo, thanks, C, you're the best.  i love you, man."  he comes over and squeezes your shoulder just above the blankets.  your skin burns where he touched you.  he leaves your room, closing your door softly behind him.  you roll over once more, but this time you cry for real.