She looked dead at the young one, the one with curly bleached hair, and said, "Is there something wrong with my chest?"
His face immediately flushed red, but he was silent.
"Samantha!" Her personal assistant said.
"Well, he was staring at it like he's never gonna have a chance to see it again, so I figured something must be wrong with it or something? I know he's seen one before." Sam said.
The boy, Justin, looked shell-shocked.
JC, the middle one, laughed.
"What, were you expecting some clean-cut, good little girl?" Sam snapped.
"I'm sorry, she's in one of her moods," Her assistant explained. "It's a long story, but if you knew it, you'd understand."
Justin blushed a deeper shade of red.
"Well, Justy, is there anything wrong?" JC asked. Justin had been annoying him all day, so JC was enjoying this immensely.
"No, it's perfect," Justin muttered, looking away.
Sam raised an eyebrow as the other four guys began laughing and smirked when even the tips of the boy's ears turned rosy red.
"I thought so, too," Sam shrugged.
JC laughed. "You're good!"
"So I've been told," She said, finally surveying the entire group.
There was the oldest one, Chris Kirkpatrick or something, very hyperactive, loves telling jokes, and was just generally crazy.
Then there was the one standing to the left of him, Joey Fatone, the flirty, outgoing, womanizing one of the group
Lance Bass or something along those lines. He seemed to be the serious, studious, shy, business-minded man of the group. Maybe she could get him to lighten up.
To the left was the tall, thin, sleepy-looking one with dark spiked hair and blue eyes. What is it with these guys and spiking their hair? She thought to herself. He seemed to be the type who knew when to be serious and when to have fun, and could get more than a little mischievious.
Then there was this Justin Timberlake guy, the one she'd heard the most about. The heart-throb. The teen-dream. She studied him carefully, taking in his messy, short hair and tall, muscular frame. But what really caught her attention was his bright ocean-blue eyes, looking at her curiously.
She took a breath. She could handle this. "Ok."
"Ok?" Joey asked, cocking his head to the side. He also appeared to be the dumb one.
Samantha's personal assistant, Helen, nodded. "Good, I'll let them know."
"She accepts us," JC, the perceptive one apparently, said to Joey. "We're good enough for her to be her opening act."
Sam smiled at JC. He could read her well. They'd get along pretty well, she decided when he gave her a half-grin.
"Yeah, I'm not there to pump up your crowd," Sam laughed. "I'm here so you can feel loved by the left-over screams for me when you get out there!"
Justin laughed.
Sam smirked. "Look, I'd love to stay and chat with you, but I've got a call to make!" She held up a small black cell phone and walked away from the group.
"Helen!" Justin said.
"Yeah?" She turned to look at the boy.
"Where can I find out more about her?" He asked. "Her moods, I mean?"
"Try this," Helen handed him a magazine as she walked by.
On the cover was a picture of Sam, buck-naked, hanging over some guy's shoulder, holding a sign over his naked rear-end that read, "Too naughty, too soon?"
"Rolling Stone," He laughed as he slid the magazine open. The pictures in there resembled the pictures of Britney for her second set. He had to admit, the girls looked a lot alike, except for their attitude. No, that was the wrong word for it. He hated to say it, but the word for it was aura. They were complete opposites.
Britney was annoying at times, sure, but wasn't everyone? And she was also real predictable. She was always wearing something revealing, always sweet whether she meant it or not, and always required herself to look cute as a button. Britney at this very moment was wearing a short red miniskirt and a white, low-cut, tie-back tanktop.
Sam, on the other hand, from what he could see, was he complete opposite. Apparently unpredictable, her clothes weren't that revealing at the moment, she was obviously not a sweetheart if she didn't mean it, and hadn't been wearing a lick of make-up when she met them. Sam had also walked up to them wearing a pair of slightly baggy dark denim flares, a plain white 3/4-sleeved fitted shirt with a sweetheart neckline revealing about an inch of flat, tanned stomach, a soft pink belt, and a soft pink, fuzzy hat over her unruly mane of hair.
Chris looked at him carefully after everyone else had walked away. "She's not no Britney, man, watch ya self."
At that moment Justin hated having such a perceptive best friend around all the time.