Sunday, January 28, 2001: Atlanta, GA

Joey woke up to the shrill, tumbling ring of the telephone. His face was planted in the pillow, and the covers were pulled up above his ears. His hand moved slowly from underneath the covers, emerging into the artificially heated air, and knocking the phone off its base.

It took him a few moments before he realized that the sound coming from the handset was not the anticipated dial tone of a hotel wakeup call, but the tinny sound of voices singing.

He sat up, leaned over the edge of the bed, and grappled frantically for the handset, putting it to his ear in time to hear the final words of the song: "-py birthday to you." The last off-key note was drawn out to its full extent, but it was muffled by another voice.

"Happy birthday, honey." Phyllis’ voice was loud in his ear.

"Thanks, Ma," Joey said. He couldn’t help but smile. He looked over at the clock. 8:29. The smile slid off his face.

"We weren’t sure what time everything started today," Phyllis continued, "so we figured we’d call while we knew you’d be there."

"Yeah," Joey said. He’d had the wakeup call set for ten. "We?"

"Everyone’s here," Phyllis said. "Your father, and Steve, and Janine, and all your cousins, and, well, everyone. The only one that’s missing is the guest of honor—you."

"I wish I could be there," Joey said.

"We wish you could be, too," Phyllis said. She gave a small sigh, but then her voice was as energetic as before. "Did last night go okay? We were hoping you’d call, but…" she trailed off.

"We got into Atlanta late," Joey said. "At two, or something."

"Oh," Phyllis said. A laugh edged her voice. "Well, I’m glad you didn’t call then."

"Yeah," Joey said. He lay back on the pillows and sighed. "Last night went good. I didn’t fall flat on my face, or miss too many notes, or anything like that."

"I told you you’d do fine," Phyllis said. "You’re my Joey, and my Joey belongs on stage."

"Justin belongs on stage," Joey said quietly. "Really, I’m just filling in for him. I’m not meant to be anything more than a backup singer in this group. I’m just pretending that I can fill the presence he creates, so that we can possibly have careers when this is all over."

"No, you aren’t," Phyllis said. "Don’t say that. You’re where you’re meant to be. At the front. Us Fatone’s have always known that." She paused. "Have you heard from Justin recently?"

Joey shook his head, forgetting that his mother couldn’t see him. "Nah," he said. "Nothing for a few days now. Not since, like, almost two weeks."

"That’s a long time," Phyllis said. "Do you think everything’s okay?"

"Yeah," Joey said. "I mean, well, he should have emailed back, but— I’m sure everything’s fine. He’s probably just busy, or something. Busy."

"Yeah," Phyllis said. "Or something." She paused, and the sound of the rest of the family chattering in the background could be heard. "I should probably let you go. I’m sure you have things to do."

"Uh-huh," Joey said. Sleep. He looked at the clock. "It’s going to be a busy month."

"We’re thinking of you, honey, okay?" Phyllis sent him a kiss through the phone. "We love you lots, and we’re very proud of you."

"Thanks," Joey said. "I love you, Ma. Give everyone else my love too, okay?"

"I will, honey. Happy birthday." The sound of the chatter grew louder in the phone. Phyllis’ voice was suddenly distant. "Everyone say goodbye to Joey, okay?"

"Bye, Joey!" several voices chorused. "Happy Birthday!"

"Bye," Phyllis said. "Talk to you soon!"

"Bye," Joey said. He hung up the phone, rolled over, and buried his face in the pillow.

Justin stared at the date in the upper right hand corner of his computer screen. January 28. Joey’s birthday. Three days before his own birthday. Joey’s birthday.

He opened up the email program and started typing Joey’s email address into the ‘To:’ line. He shut the window before he began writing the message.

"My mom asked if we’d heard from Justin yet," Joey said. He sloshed the orange juice around in the small hotel glass. "Do you guys realize it’s been almost two weeks."

"Yeah," JC said.

"I’m starting to get sort of worried," Chris said. "Has he ever gone this long without emailing?"

"No," Lance said. "Not even in the beginning."

"I’m sure he’ll email today," JC said. "I mean, it is Joey’s birthday."

"He never misses birthdays," Lance said. He nodded his head. "Never."

"What is up with you?" Maggie asked as she wrapped her arms around Justin’s neck, resting her head on his shoulder.

He looked up from his bowl of cereal and kissed Maggie lightly on the lips. "What do you mean?"

"You’ve been pushing that corn puff around in that milk for the past ten minutes," Maggie said.

"Oh," Justin said. He looked at the spoon in his hand, and the single soggy corn puff floating in the bowl of milk.

"You thinking about Stu?" Maggie asked.

"No," Justin said too quickly. He hadn’t been.

"You feel like talking about it yet?" Maggie asked.

"There’s nothing to talk about," Justin said. "He said what he felt he had to say, and I didn’t want to hear it."

"Hear what?" Maggie asked. She moved, sitting down in the chair next to Justin. She put her hand on top of his, and rubbed her thumb lightly over the triangle of skin between his thumb and second finger.

Justin shook his head.

"Hear what?" Maggie asked again. "Come on, Randy. What do you feel you have to hide from me?"

"Nothing," Justin said. "I just don’t want to talk about it."

"I do," Maggie said. "If you won’t tell me what it is, then it has to do with us, right?"

"No," Justin said.

"What did he say?" Maggie asked. She squeezed Justin’s hand between her fingers. "If it has to do with me then I have a right to know."

"Fine," Justin said. He looked at Maggie intently. "You want to know? You really want to know what he said?"

"Yes," Maggie said.

"He told me I should leave," Justin said.

"What?" Maggie asked. "Leave? Why? No."

"Because I’ll have to leave eventually," Justin said. "And he thinks I’ll hurt more people leaving later, than leaving now."

"No," Maggie said. She frowned. Her fingers clamped around Justin’s hand. "You can’t leave. I won’t let you."

"That’s what I told him," Justin said. "I told him I couldn’t leave you, or the team, or the town. I’m not ready to go back yet."

"Then you aren’t going back," Maggie said. "I need you here, Randy. You belong here."

"Do I?" Justin asked. He looked down at their hands. "Sometimes I’m not so sure."

"Yes," Maggie said firmly. "You belong here, and Stu can just go screw himself."

"That’s what I told him last night," Justin said. "Except I used somewhat stronger words."

"I’m sure he appreciated that," Maggie said. She chuckled slightly.

"Not really," Justin said. He smiled, then sighed, the happy expression sliding off his face with the sound. "He just annoys me sometimes."

"Friends do that," Maggie said. She stared at Justin’s face seriously. "I love you."

Justin felt his set features crack into a smile. "I love you, too."

Joey closed the screen of his computer and turned to look at JC. "I don’t think we’re going to hear from him."

"It’s still early," JC said. He looked at his watch. "There’s still another six hours left in the day."

"Really, why should he email me today though?" Joey asked. "Because it’s my birthday? I mean, he’s spent the last two weeks severing all contact, so why should today change his stance?"

"Because he’s your friend," JC said. "Because he still cares."

"He’s not going to email," Joey said. "He’s gone, Jace. He’s off there in Justin-land and I’m scared we’re never really going to get him back." Before JC could say the oft repeated phrase ‘but he said he’d be back’, Joey continued. "Or the one we get back won’t be the one we used to know and love."

Justin pushed himself away from the computer. Again. He looked at the open browser screen with the open message window. The subject line read ‘Happy Birthday!’ The message was blank.

"Hey, man!" Justin said with false enthusiasm. "What’s up?! So, happy birthday! Hope the tour goes well! See you in a month, or so! Woo-fucking-hoo!" He rolled his eyes. "Pathetic."

He stood up, walked over to his bed, started to sit down, before jerking back into a standing position and moving back to the desk chair. He turned the chair around and sat down, his legs straddling the back of the chair. He rested his fingers on the keyboard.
 

Happy Birthday, Joey! Hope it’s great! I wish I was there, well, you know, I would wish I was there if circumstances weren’t what they are. I miss you, man.

He stared at the message. "Pathetic," he said again.

There was a soft knock on his door.

With a small surge of adrenaline, Justin double clicked on the bar at the top of the window making the message disappear, and turned to look at the door. "Come in."

Maggie poked her head into the room. "Hey. What’re you doing?"

"Sending an email," Justin said. "Why?"

"I got lonely in my room so I decided to come bug you," Maggie said. She stepped into the room and walked over to the bed, sitting down.

Justin smiled. He stood up and moved in front of Maggie. "Well, we can’t have you being lonely now, can we?" He knelt down between Maggie’s legs, leaning his elbows on her knees.

"Finish your message," Maggie said with a flick of her hand towards the computer. "I didn’t want to distract you."

"You’ve already distracted me," Justin said. "Besides, he can wait. It’s not anything important."

"In that case…" Maggie had a small grin on her face as she leaned forward and kissed Justin.

Sometime later, unnoticed, the computer screen went to sleep.

Joey closed the screen of his computer again. Nothing. 22 hours into the day and nothing. No word. No message. No stupid e-card.

"Fuck, Justin," Joey said. He moved over to the lumpy hotel bed, and curled up on top of the covers. He hugged one of the pillows to his head and refused to acknowledge the hot, salty dampness slowly spreading on the fabric of the pillowcase beneath his left eye.

Justin tapped the return key on the computer keyboard. The screen slowly came back to life. He double clicked on the window bar, the only thing showing on the screen. The window reopened.

Justin reread the words that he’d typed and deleted them all.

Happy Birthday! Hope it was great. If circumstances weren’t what they are, I would say I wish I could have been there. If circumstances were different you know I would be there.

I love you, man. Justin

Before he could rethink the words, he pressed the send button. The message disappeared from sight.

"Hope it was great, Joe," Justin said. He rested his elbows on the desk and rested his forehead on his clenched fists. "Hope it was the best one ever."

Tuesday, January 30, 2001

Justin watched as Matt dribbled the ball down the court. The Mill Creek section was standing, chatting amiably amongst themselves, paying a divided attention to the game.

"Nine and oh," Josh said softly. He was standing behind Justin’s left shoulder. "Who’da thunk it."

"Yeah," Justin said.

Brent tossed the ball at the backboard and Justin watched as it swished through the basket. Mill Creek yelled, but it would have been more enthusiastic if the scoreboard hadn’t been completely one sided.

"Who’da thunk," Justin said.

"You might have actually had something to do with us getting this far, Smith," Josh said. "You were pretty good out there tonight."

"Maybe," Justin said. He looked at Josh. "You guys could take it without me."

"I’m not so sure anymore," Josh said. "Even a few weeks ago, I would’ve said ‘hell, yeah’, but you’re a part of this team, Smith. Like coach said, you may be the glue that holds it together."

"So if I were to take off again, leave, and not come back, you don’t think you guys could still take State?" Justin laughed weakly at his comment.

Josh glared at him. "Not a funny joke, Smith. Not funny at all."

Justin pulled his jersey over his head and wiped a towel over his damp curls. He set the towel on the hard wooden bench he was sitting on.

"Good game, Smith," Kevin said. He walked by and slapped Justin’s bare shoulder.

"You too, man." Justin said. His eyes followed Kevin as he walked down the row. He saw Stu sitting at the opposite end of the bench. Stu looked up as Kevin congratulated him.

Justin looked back down at his open locker. When he looked up again, Stu was gone.

Jackson, Mississippi

"Hey, Britney, Lynn, come on out," Chris yelled to the wings of the stage. Britney ran out onto the stage, followed by Justin’s mother.

"As I’m sure most of you know," Joey said to the moving, pulsating crowd, "tomorrow is an important day."

The crowd screamed.

"Tomorrow," Chris said, "is Justin’s birthday."

More screams.

"So," JC said. "Let’s play a game. Let’s pretend he’s here, on stage with us, and let’s sing him the birthday song. I’m sure you all know the words."

The four men and Britney sang, with 30,000 people backing them up.

Wednesday, January 31, 2001

Justin looked down at the journal in his lap. He tapped the end of the pen against his bottom lip, staring at the empty lines on the page in front of him. Slowly he lowered the tip of the pen to the page.

January 31, 2001

Happy Birthday to me, Happy birthday to me, Happy birthday dear Justin, Happy Birthday to me.

And that’s the only rendition of the song I’ll get today. Fucking pathetic. It’s my 19th birthday. The BIG one nine! The last year of being a teenager! Woo-flipping-Hoo! Fuck. If I were at home there’d be cake, and alcohol, and dancing, and chicks… I love that. I love birthdays.

He frowned.

But I want to be here.

His frown deepened. He’d said—written—those words so often, they came instinctively. The only difference now was that suddenly they rang false in his brain.

And I can’t have that here. It’s my birthday. I have a right to want a birthday, right? With cake, and candles, and someone to sing that stupid song to me? And a phone call from my dad, and my brothers…

But Randy Smith doesn’t have brothers. Or a father. Or a birthday. He’s fucking ageless. Stu said I was a god in this town. Gods don’t age, do they?

Justin stared at the words. He lowered the pen back to the paper.

Maybe I should just go home, like Stu said. Maybe I should just give up this farce of a life I’ve created. There’re only so many times that I can say that I deserve to have some say in my life before I begin to believe that maybe I don’t. Maybe my life isn’t about me. Maybe I should go back before I screw up other people’s lives more. Maybe I should just get up and disappear, cause Stu said that was the way I did it best. I can’t disappoint, now can I? Maggie would survive. The team would survive.

I suppose I would survive.

It’s not about me though, is it? It’s never been about what Justin wanted, but always about what’s best for Justin Timberlake. Maybe I’ve gotten enough of Justin back to keep remembering who he is; enough that I can last until ‘N SYNC goes away. Maybe I should go back to being Justin Timberlake, and forget the taste I had of being just Justin. I mean, Justin’s a no one, right? But lives of others rest on Justin Timberlake.

Okay, that sounded like I have an ego.

Maybe, as much as I don’t want to admit it, Stu’s right. Maybe I don’t belong here. Justin Timberlake only belongs one place— the stage. I’ve discovered what I wanted to discover, right? I’ve discovered that there is a Justin underneath the mask of Justin Timberlake. That’s what I wanted, right? To find Justin? Now that I have, maybe I should get out while the getting’s good, before I get even more attached and even more reluctant to leave.

So, yeah, one last time. Happy Birthday.

He closed the journal and lay back on the bed. He stared at the ceiling before rolling his head over to look at the clock. 12:07. He looked at the ceiling again.

"Happy birthday dear Justin," he mouthed silently. "Happy birthday to me."

Stu scrubbed a hand across his eyes. He stared at the newspaper spread out on the kitchen table in front of him. He caught a flash of pink out of the corner of his eye, and looked up as his sister entered the room. She was wearing a pink ‘N SYNC shirt. She went to the cupboard and grabbed a box of generic rice puffs.

"What’s up with the shirt?" he asked. Disgust lined his words.

"It’s Justin’s birthday today," Shell said. She opened the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk. "He’s nineteen. The message board said we should make it Justin Timberlake appreciation day."

"Oh," Stu said. He looked back at the paper in front of him.

"I guess the guys sang happy birthday to him at the concert in Mississippi last night," Shell continued. "That’s what it said on the message board, anyway. Do you think Mom and Dad would let me go to their concert when they come here? That would be so cool."

"You’re obsessed, Shell," Stu said.

"They’re hot," Shell said. She rolled her voice and her eyes in the way only pre-adolescent girls can.

"Whatever," Stu said.

"They are," Shell said.

"Fine," Stu said. "They’re hot. I want to marry all of them and have ten million of their babies."

"Ha. Ha." Shell rested her hands on her hips. "You think you’re so funny. You’re just jealous because you know you’ll never be as famous or popular as them."

"Actually, Shell," Stu said, his voice suddenly serious, "you couldn’t pay me to be one of them. Not for a million dollars, not for anything."

He closed the paper, stood up, and left the room, leaving a confused pre-teenager behind him.

Jackson, Mississippi

"His own birthday," Chris said to the other three guys as they lay on the floor in Joey’s hotel room, "and he’s not here to celebrate it." He shook his head sadly.

There was a murmur of consent from the other three men.

Stu looked around the crowded hallway, his eyes searching.

"He’s in third corridor," Matt said from behind him.

"Wha?" Stu asked. He turned around. "What are you talking about?"

"I’m talking about Randy," Matt said. "You were looking for him, right?"

"No," Stu said quickly. "I wasn’t."

Matt leaned back into the wall. "You guys just need to have whatever this thing is out. It’s screwing your shit up, man."

"There’s nothing to have out," Stu said. "We already had it out. I said what I had to, and he said what he felt he had to."

"And now you guys are never going to speak again?" Matt asked. "That’s retarded, dude."

"He doesn’t want to talk to me," Stu said. "And I don’t want to talk to him."

"BS," Matt said. "Bull. Shit. Friends fight. Friends makeup."

"This isn’t a fight," Stu said. "It’s a fundamental difference of opinion that we can’t ignore."

"So you’re going to walk around with this miserable lost expression on your face for the rest of your life?" Matt asked. "Life is a series of compromises regarding your beliefs. What’s so huge that you can’t still be friends with him? Did he murder someone? Do you want Maggie?"

"No," Stu said. "And definitely no. It’s nothing."

"If it’s nothing then you two wouldn’t have spent the last two days avoiding each other," Matt said. "You didn’t even shake his hand after the game last night."

"It’s nothing I want to talk about," Stu said. "Okay?"

"Okay," Matt said. He rolled his eyes.

"Today’s his birthday." Stu said.

"Whose?" Matt asked.

"Randy’s," Stu said. "Nineteen."

"No," Matt said, drawing out the ‘o’ sound. "Really?"

Stu nodded his head.

"What’s he doing?"

Stu shrugged. "Probably nothing. Of course, I haven’t been speaking to him enough to find out."

"We should do something for him," Matt said.

"I’m not going to throw him a birthday party," Stu said. "No."

"Shit, Stu," Matt said. "Grow up. He’s your friend, your teammate if nothing else, whether you want to admit it or not."

"It’s not that simple," Stu said. "God, why am I coming off like the bad guy in this situation? I shouldn’t have to do anything. Maybe I wasn’t the one who was in the wrong. Maybe he was trying to push his will on me, and I had enough of it."

"And maybe you were trying to push your will on him," Matt said. "That is generally what starts arguments. Either you do something, or you say something, or..."

"Maybe he needed to hear what I had to say," Stu said. "Maybe he’s living in a land where he can do no wrong and feels like he can play with other peoples lives and ignore the consequences."

"It’s his life," Matt said.

"It’s not the same though," Stu said. "He needs to think about other people, too."

"You make it sound like he’s a god or something," Matt said. "He’s just a teenager, like you and me. How much difference do we make in this world? None."

"It’s not the same," Stu said. "You don’t understand."

"No," Matt said. "I don’t."

They were silent for a few moments.

"He is my friend, still," Matt continued, "whether you guys are speaking or not, and a birthday is a birthday. I’m not going to let his birthday go unrecognized."

"Are we going to send him an e-card?" Lance asked as they rode in the back of a limousine towards the radio station interview. "I mean, he sent Joey a note. We should send him something."

"Send him something sappy," JC said. "Something that will make him bawl like a baby."

"Tell him he’s missing out on a lot of free alcohol," Joey said. "It would have been my treat, but today’s the only day the offer’s good."

"You read Joey’s note," Chris said. "He doesn’t deserve acknowledgement."

Justin sat down at his normal lunch table. Maggie wasn’t there yet, and he saw Emily sitting at a table with Stu and Matt. He felt self-conscious, like everyone in the entire lunchroom was staring at him.

He took his sandwich out of the baggie it was in, crumpling the translucent plastic in his fist and shoving it in the brown paper bag on the table in front of him. He bit into the sandwich, trying to pretend that he wasn’t the only one at his lunch table.

At home, with the guys, he wouldn’t have to worry about being stared at because he was sitting by himself. He wouldn’t have to worry about someone suddenly realizing who he was. He wouldn’t have to worry about what Stu had said, that maybe the guys wouldn’t want to stay together anymore after their tour. He just wouldn’t have to worry about anything but being Justin Timberlake.

"Don’t look so sad." Matt’s voice came from behind Justin, startling him. "You aren’t allowed to look sad on your birthday."

Justin turned around quickly, feeling his heart stop and his pulse speed up. "My birthday?"

"Yeah," Matt said. "You know, the day you entered this world. I know you like to remain enigma-ous— that isn’t a word is it— and mysterious, but a birthday’s a birthday, dude. You can’t let those slip through the cracks. They only happen once a year."

"How’d you know?" Justin asked. He waited for the words he’d been expecting to hear for almost three months.

"Stu told me," Matt said. "You didn’t think he’d keep it to himself, did you? Even if you two happen to be having a, what’d he say, oh yeah, a fundamental difference of opinion?"

"Stu told you?" Justin asked.

"About what?" Matt asked. "About your birthday, or about your ‘fundamental difference of opinion’?"

"Either," Justin said. His palms started to sweat. "Both."

"He wouldn’t tell me jack about the reason you guys decided to get into a tiff on Saturday," Matt said. "I tried, really I did. Are you going to tell me?"

"No," Justin said. He mentally sighed with relief.

"But, yeah," Matt said. "He told me it was your birthday. So because it’s a school night— and the night before a game— it wouldn’t be good to go get plowed, but we have to do something. The pool hall at eight? Whaddya say?"

"I suck at pool," Justin said.

"It’s fun for the whole family then," Matt said. "You’ll be there? No skipping out on your own party?"

"Whose party?" Maggie came up to the table, and sat down next to Justin, immediately resting her fingers on top of his.

"Randy’s," Matt said. "His birthday party."

"Your birthday?" Maggie asked. "Randy?"

Justin blushed. He felt Maggie withdraw her hand.

"It’s your birthday and you didn’t tell me?" Maggie asked. Her face had fallen, her eyes immediately loosing their happy gleam.

"It’s not a big deal," Justin said. He looked back and forth between Matt and Maggie. "Really guys, it’s not. I don’t like birthdays. I don’t want to do anything."

"I think this is my cue to leave," Matt said. He stood up, slapping Justin on the back lightly. "And you have to do something. You will be there, right?"

"Yeah," Justin said in a resigned tone. He turned back to Maggie and waited until he no longer felt Matt’s presence behind him. "I don’t like birthdays," he said again.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Maggie asked. "Birthdays are special, and you said you loved me, and you didn’t feel the need to tell me, and your friends knew before I knew, and…"

"I didn’t tell anyone," Justin said. "I don’t know how Stu found out. He’s the one that told Matt."

Maggie didn’t look at him.

"Mags," Justin said, his voice soft. "I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I was trying to forget that it was today. Really."

"Why?" Maggie asked. "Birthdays are happy days."

"Yeah," Justin said. "They are. But they’re also a day that I’m used to spending at home, with a big party for me and one of my best friends thrown by my mom. And actually having my little brothers in the same place I am. And having everyone in my life around me. Thinking about my birthday brought forth memories I really didn’t want to think about."

"But—" Maggie started. "You could have told me. We wouldn’t have had to do anything. I could have gotten you a card, or something. I didn’t even know. I should have known."

Justin sighed. "Please, Mags, understand. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want anyone to know. And you know you would have planned some party thing, right?"

Maggie blushed and nodded slightly.

"And I love you for that," Justin said. "But I didn’t want anything. I just wanted to have it be any other day. Okay?"

Maggie chewed slightly on her bottom lip.

"I don’t want to have another person mad at me," Justin said. "Please pretend you understand where I’m coming from?"

"Okay," Maggie said. "I understand."

Justin knew she was lying.

"I like this one," JC said. "An ‘N SYNC e-card. It seems appropriate, don’t you think?"

Lance looked at the lap top screen over JC’s shoulder.

"Hope you get everything you want," Lance read. He looked at the picture accompanying the words. "Jace, there’s a picture of Justin on the card."

"I know," JC said. "He left to find himself, right? So if we send him a picture of himself it’ll be like he’s getting himself. Did that make any sense?"

"It’s disturbing that it did," Lance said.

"So," JC said. "Should we send it to him?"

Lance closed his eyes briefly. "It’s a picture of himself," he said. "I’m not sending him a picture of himself. That’s just wrong, no matter how much your screwed up logic makes touching sense."

"Well, have you found anything better?" JC asked.

Lance shook his head.

Justin ran his fingers through his damp curls. They were getting longer again; the red roots were beginning to show under the brown dye and frosted tips.

"To cut them, or to let them grow," Justin said, tipping his head slightly to the right. He heard soft footfalls approaching his door. Moving to the door, he opened it just as Maggie was raising her fist to knock. "Hey."

"Hey," Maggie said. She chewed on her bottom lip. She looked at the floor. "I was just coming to see if you wanted to go get dinner. Before the thing at the pool hall."

"Sure," Justin said. "Let me just grab a sweatshirt."

"Okay," Maggie said. She leaned against the doorframe of the room, looking everywhere but at Justin.

"Where are we going?" Justin asked. He pulled his sweatshirt over his head, and adjusted the hood.

"It’s your birthday," Maggie said. She looked at Justin briefly and then back down at the floor. "You can decide."

"Okay," Justin said. "Do you feel like pie?"

"Whatever you want," Maggie said.

"I feel like pie," Justin said. He moved back towards Maggie and the door. He flicked off the light as Maggie stepped out into the hallway, and grabbed her hand in his as they moved down the stairs. Her fingers were stiff in his own.

Somewhere over Mississippi

"This one’s good," Joey said. He was reclined in the airplane seat, the laptop resting on the tray table. "It’s simple. It’s sweet. It has nothing to do with ‘N SYNC."

"Finally," Lance said. He glared at JC, who was asleep across the aisle, leaning against the window on the opposite side of the plane. He looked at the computer screen, and slowly smiled. "I like it. Yo. Chris."

"What?" Chris asked. He looked up from the book that was open in his lap.

"I think Joey found the card," Lance said. "Take a look."

Chris frowned as he squinted his eyes in an effort to see the computer screen. Slowly the frown softened, into a slight upward curve of lips.

"It’s okay," he said.

"Three out of four’s good enough for me," Joey said. "Let’s send this sucker."

"No," Lance said, laying a hand on Joey’s arm. "Group decision."

Joey frowned as Chris poked JC roughly in the arm. "Jay-Cee. Wake up."

"Huh?" JC asked. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Are we there already?"

"No," Chris said. "Joey found the card."

"Oh," JC said. He leaned across Chris’s lap and stared at the computer screen. He leaned back into his own space. "It’s not up there with sending Justin a picture of himself, but…"

"I’ll take that as a yes," Joey said. He turned the computer screen back towards him and typed their names in the blanks provided. He pressed the send button, and smiled.

"That was really good," Justin said, the words forming puffs of white in the cold air.

"Yeah," Maggie said.

"Thank you," Justin said.

"Yeah," Maggie said again. "You’re welcome."

Justin stopped walking down the road, and watched as Maggie kept walking a few steps. She suddenly seemed to realize that he was no longer beside her, and she turned around.

"What?" she asked. She walked back towards Justin. "Why did you stop?"

"I said I was sorry," Justin said. "I wasn’t going to tell anyone."

"I know," Maggie said.

"What can I do to make you not mad at me?" Justin asked. "I can’t take having both you and Stu not talking to me."

"I’m not mad," Maggie said. She looked down at the ground.

"Bull," Justin said.

"I’m just hurt," Maggie said. She looked back up at Justin, her eyes watery. "I’m mad at myself that I never asked you when your birthday was, because what sort of friend am I that I never asked. And I’m hurt that you never volunteered the information."

"Someday, Mags, you will understand why I never did," Justin said quietly, unsure that he’d spoken the words aloud. When he saw Maggie’s curious eyes focused on his face, he realized he had, and continued quickly. "I’m a different person now, and if anything my birthday should be the day I arrived here."

"I want to know about who you were before you came here," Maggie said. "You’re a complete mystery to me, and it scares me that I can love you so much and not have a clue who you really are."

"You do know who I am, though," Justin said. He wrapped his arms around her. "You know me better than anyone else ever has. I’m not Ju—" he stopped his tongue. "I’m not Randy Smith here, I’m just Randy."

"Was Randy Smith such a bad person to be?" Maggie asked.

"No," Justin said. "But he’s not the person that I want to be."

Maggie nodded, burrowing her face into Justin’s jacket.

"Am I forgiven?" Justin asked. "You will understand someday. I promise you, you will."

"Only if you promise," Maggie said. She looked down at her jacket-covered wrist. "Matt’s probably thinking you skipped out on your own party."

"We could," Justin said.

"No," Maggie said. "That’s not going to happen."

"Damn," Justin said. He grabbed on to Maggie’s wrist. "What was it I told you when we were going to that party? The faster we get there, the faster we can leave?"

"Yeah," Maggie said. She laughed as Justin pulled her down the road. "But I wasn’t the guest of honor at that party."

"Details," Justin said.

Joey raised the bottle of vodka to his lips. "Does it not seem like a year ago was forever ago?"

JC nodded, his head falling quickly, and rising slowly. "Very long time." He stuck his hand out for the bottle of vodka.

"We were all different people," Lance said. "So innocent. So naïve, different."

"Naïve," Chris said. The fifth of tequila in his hand was half gone. "I like that word. I can’t spell it though."

"It’s naie—" JC stopped and scratched his head. "Naieve? No."

"We should sing him happy birthday," Joey said. "Jus the four of us. Like we normally do."

Four long neck bottles came together, clinking, as four men leaned in towards each other.

"Happy Birthday," Joey started, prompting the three other men.

"—to you." The other three joined in. "Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Justin. Happy Birthday to you."

Four bottles went to four sets of lips, and four throats convulsively swallowed the burning liquid.

"Shit," Chris drawled. "Johnny’s going to kill us tomorrow."

"’S J-dawg’s bd-ay," Joey said. "Whas he expect?"

Justin leaned against the wall of the pool hall, gripping a coke can lightly in his hand. He surveyed the people milling around the large room.

"You don’t look like you’re having much fun," Kevin said as he came to stand beside Justin.

Justin rolled his eyes. "I suck at pool."

"Yeah, that was what Maggie was telling me," Kevin said.

"I think that’s why Matt always wants to play," Justin said. "It’s something he knows he can beat me at."

"He doesn’t get to say that too often, does he?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah." Justin laughed.

Kevin’s gaze moved outwards, around the room.

Justin’s eyes followed, resting on his girlfriend. She was standing with Emily and Amanda, laughing and talking.

"Amanda says that Maggie likes you a lot," Kevin said.

Justin blushed. He could feel the familiar beginnings of the teasing he used to get about Britney.

"I don’t know why Amanda tells me these things," Kevin said. "But she feels the need to."

"Girls are like that," Justin said.

"Yeah." Kevin said. "I remember when Manda and I got together…"

"You guys are considered, like," Justin paused, "like an entity in this town."

"You and Maggie are too," Kevin said. "It’s like RandyMaggie. One person. One body."

"I don’t think we’re quite at that point yet," Justin said.

Kevin shrugged.

Justin turned his head to look directly at Kevin. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?" Kevin asked.

"How’d you know Amanda was the one?" Justin glanced briefly at Maggie, and then back at Kevin.

Kevin shrugged. "I don’t know. I just knew. I couldn’t picture my life without her. I didn’t care when people started calling me whipped."

Justin nodded.

"Why?" Kevin asked. "You thinking you might have found your one?"

"Maybe," Justin said. "No. It’s only been a little over a month."

"That doesn’t say jack," Kevin said. He waved at Amanda, who waved back at him.

Justin smiled at Maggie.

Stu walked down the street, hands shoved in pockets, breath freezing in front of his face. He saw the pool hall in front of him on the right side of the street. He started to turn around, but then continued towards the brightly-lit building.

He moved to the left side of the street, making sure his body stayed in the shadows, and walked until he was standing opposite from the large picture windows covering the front of the building.

He saw about twenty people inside the room, mingling, playing pool, laughing, smiling.

His eyes moved to a figure standing by the wall of the room. Justin had a can in his hand, periodically lifting it to his lips. He seemed to be immersed in a conversation with Kevin, and then he smiled as Maggie, Emily, and Amanda made their way over. Matt joined the group a few minutes later.

He saw Justin turn his head and look out the front window. Stu looked down at the ground before turning his face back in the direction he came and walking away.