Battle Of The Blondes

© Sweet Kisses™

~*~

Britney stepped outside the medical centre, emotionally drained from her first ultrasound and found that the sun was trying in vain to break through the stormy rain clouds and sighed despondently. Her stomach had felt like it had been used for boxing and all her insides felt weak. She had never known that just seeing that tiny life inside herself would cause her to be so emotional.

But she knew that if she had Nick by her side, she would be able to accomplish everything and anything. But it seemed that no matter how hard the sun tried, the clouds always broke its spirit. Just like Justin had broken hers. It seemed symbolic, as though the clouds and sun were telling her that nothing had a silver lining, that there was nothing good to hope for, that the healing yellow rays of the sun would never heal her heart...

Because she was way off in dreamland, she smacked right into another person. "Sorry!"

When she looked up, she saw the colour of the ocean, the blonde hair, the soft smile. But it wasn’t Nick. Her eyes widened and she looked over her shoulder, to see if anyone could help her if she needed it. But this was a public place. He wasn’t that stupid. And besides, Britney knew how to scream. Still, the sight of him gave her chills, though she tried to be appear confident and narrowed her eyes.

"What the hell...?"

"Hey," Justin said, his eyes wide. "Surprised?"

"What the hell do you want?" Britney cried, looking over her shoulder again to see if she could make a run for it. Seemed weird that whenever he was around, she had a sudden dread for her life. She never had that with Nick, and that was one of the main reasons why she loved Nick, and loved him wholeheartedly. "And more importantly, how the hell did you know I was here?"

Justin shrugged. "Hey, I’m Justin Timberlake. I know people who know people."

Britney eyed him scathingly. "It wasn’t enough for you that you beat me continuously? Now you’re stalking me, too? Don’t you ever give up?"

"Look," Justin said, ignoring her remark after pausing somewhat, "can we go somewhere to talk?" When she appeared unmoved by his look of remorse, he tried again, his eyes pleading with her. "Please?"

Before she knew it, she was sitting across from Justin and staring down into a cup of swirling hot chocolate, absently toying with the silver spoon. A cool gush of wind swept over them and the people sitting around them, and it was as if the wind were giving her a warning: don’t trust him. Not like she ever would again, not after everything he’d done to her.

"I don’t think I can make it any clearer for you," she said, trying in vain to keep her voice controlled and soft, not really wanting to air her business in front of everyone around them. "I don’t like you, Justin. In fact, I hate you. I hate you for every horrible word you said to me, every time you hit me and for every time you..."

Justin appeared genuinely hurt. "I really am sorry," he said softly, his face the perfect picture of remorse. "I don’t know what got into me, really I don’t. I know I have a problem, and I’ve been going to counselling, too. For you. So we can maybe try again, like it used to be. After all, we’ve been together for years now, so I should know what you want and need."

Britney shook her head in disgust. No, she never wanted it like it used to be. "Justin, let’s get one thing straight," she hissed and let go of her cup to hold up her hand to show her ring. "See this? This is what I want. This is what I need. And you know what that is? Love. Honesty. Trust. Things that you have never given me, and will never give me! So I’ve got a nice little suggestion for you: stay the fuck away from me or else you’ll find yourself behind bars!"

Justin lowered his head. "I deserve that, I know," he said quietly, taking a sip of his coffee. "I’m trying, Britney, really I am." His blue eyes were pleading with her again. "It’s my baby, you know. I have rights."

"And it’s my body," Britney retorted. "I, too, have rights."

Justin rolled his eyes. "Don’t start that feminist crap. It’s not like you."

Britney rolled her eyes back at him. "Don’t start that holier than thou crap. You’ve got no right to."

Justin sighed. "Look, I know I’ve done you wrong and I’ve hurt you, but I really am trying and...you look good." His hand reached out and touched her cheek. "You’re practically glowing."

Britney slapped his hand away. "Just fuck off, Justin, and leave me alone!"

When she stood up and tried to walk away, Justin grabbed her by the arm and whirled her back to him, tight against his chest. His eyes were frighteningly angry, the way they usually were when he was angry, and it scared her right to the bone. "You think being being his wife will make you happy? With my child? He's nothing but a loser."

Britney winced from his grasp on her arm, so tight it was beginning to hurt. Her voice trembled with overwhelming fear, though she tried to hide it. "He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be."

Suddenly, Justin shoved her forcefully away, causing her to stumble back slightly. "You’ll be sorry, babe, and when you come crawling back to me, I might not even want you."

Britney tried to appear unnerved, deftly standing her ground and glaring murderously at him, realising just what a joke he was. "Yeah, right, like I’d ever come crawling back to you! You’re a sorry excuse for a man and if you touch me one more time, you will be behind bars!"

Justin then held out his arms. "How about a goodbye hug? For old time’s sake?"

Britney stood frozen as Justin’s arms slid around her waist and she was pulled against his chest once again. Her shoulders remained hunched while Justin held her there for longer than she wanted to be, and the whole time she kept her eyes on her ring.

I love you, Nick.

~**~

Nick sat in the dressing room, far away from Britney, and frowned. There was no answer at his house. And no answer when he tried her cell phone. Something was wrong. Where was she? Was she hurt? Was she sad? Was she that depressed that she, well, maybe...? What if the reason was because of Justin somehow? What if she had gone back to him, because she couldn’t stand being alone? God, then he’d regret leaving her for the rest of his life...

Suddenly, the door opened and Brian walked slowly in with a magazine in hand and placed it down on the table in front of Nick. He paused for a moment for dramatic effect. He knew that the best thing for him to do was leave, for when Nick saw the cover, he’d most certainly want to be alone.

Before Brian closed the door quietly behind him, he said, "So let me ask you this again. Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?"

Nick frowned again at the door and turned back to the magazine. When he saw the headline, he gasped. It was the Enquirer, with the red, bold headline, Rocky Pop Romance Rekindled. The picture was of Britney and Justin, hugging. Britney’s back toward him and Justin facing whoever had taken the picture. Nick’s heart sank further down into his chest as he read over a portion of the story quickly:

Nick threw down the magazine in fury and slammed the door as hard as he could on the way out.

~***~