Carrington Sterling

"Hey, Mom,"

"Morning, sweetie," a cheerful, southern accent came flooding through the phone that Justin Timberlake held in his left hand. He was pouring himself a glass of orange juice with the other.

"You sound like you need something," he got straight to the point laughing good-naturedly.

"Yes, I do. Could you go get out that photo album with all the pictures of the trip you made to Europe when you were, let's see, eighteen. Yes, the one when you were eighteen."

"Sure thing. Whatcha' need it for?" he paused to take a sip of the citrus mixture.

"I want to show Miss Linda a picture of that hotel you and the other boys stayed in during the stop in London. She and Ricky are going over there this summer, and I want her to see just how beautiful that hotel was. She simply must stay there,"

"Yeah, I will look for it, and run it over to you sometime today. Is that okay?"

"Sounds perfect. Well, I will let you go. I know it is a bit early in the morning,"

"Nah, I have been up since seven. I don't need as much sleep as I used to,"

"You are getting too old for me, you know that? Well, I love you, honey, and I will see you later,"

"Love you, too, Mom. Bye," he gingerly placed the phone on the receiver and headed for a massive oak, wall unit. He deftly opened one of the cabinets on the bottom, and immediately found what he was looking for. Organization was vital to him. The photo album needed a bit of dusting off. It had been months almost a year since he had looked through it. He found that odd being that he loved pouring over those old photos.

Justin opened the book thumbing through the pages. They had all been taken when he had been a member of the infamous, heart-throb group, 'N Sync. Those days were over now, but the memory was as pungent as ever. As expected, success in a boyband had not been a continual thing. Perhaps it was for the best that the whole thing had ended. They had all needed a break from it, but taking a break had ended up being a permanent one. In the world of teen pop, there was no such thing as taking a prolonged vacation and then returning to glory. There were always new faces, new sounds, new styles coming out for their fans to quickly advert their attention to, unfortunately. Still, it had been a fun ride, and Justin Timberlake did not regret one single, solitary minute of it.

After there five years of fame had come to a close, he and his former band mates had been forced to alter their lives dramatically. Suddenly, life had become simple and calm. No one complained. The oldest member, Chris, had become a psychologist for celebrity kids. He was 35, and had married an art instructor named Jaycie from Miami. They lived out in L.A. enjoying a crazy, energetic way of life. It was right up Chris's alley.

J.C. had married a journalist from the Orlando area named Kayla. At age 30, life was just as he wanted it to be. He was working as a producer/writer for hometown bands in Orlando. He was certainly making a name for himself, and he felt that his life was complete in every way. Joey had settled down as well, much to the amazement of his former band mates. His wife, Lorelle, was a highly esteemed dance instructor in Orlando. Joey and his father had gone in together and had opened a massive chain of Italian restaurants all over the nation. He could not have been happier at age 30. Lance had married a sweetheart of a girl named Emily who was teaching with his mother in Mississippi. It had been love at first sight. He was managing some of today's hottest young country stars. He was still living in Orlando, and Emily had found a job teaching there as well. He still felt incredibly young at 27. Life was good for him. Life was perfect for all of them.

What about Justin? He had clearly been the favorite of the group. Who could deny that he was very handsome and very charismatic? Girls had been crazy for his curly, lightly frosted blond hair and athletic build. Sure, those fabulous looks were still there, but he had obviously done some growing up. His hair was as curly as ever, but now he let it be its natural brown tint and let his curls fall down in short tendrils. He had reached the height of 6'3 and had retained his muscular, lean shape. Women were still captivated by him. There was always someone new to take out or crush on. Except now he was Justin Timberlake, not Justin from 'N Sync. He liked that. The pressure was not there any longer. He still strived to succeed, but now there was no one telling him to behave a certain way or say perfect clips or phrases. Justin could just be. He was 25 and one of the most popular recording artists of the day. The only difference between now and then was that now he knew how to handle his life and how to manage fame. Life was good for him, too.

He found the pictures that his mother had requested. He had figured that he would just pull the designated photos out of their encasement and put the book up, but something caught his attention and would not let it go. At the bottom of the page in the right hand corner was a picture of him with a teenage girl. Only, she did not look like your average everyday teen. His arm was draped around her tightly with her arm stretched across his torso. They were cheek to cheek each grinning in their own way. His was a look of utter delight while hers was a more calm yet equally pleasing expression. Her hair was a natural light blond almost white. It was cut below her neck in stylish layers. A festive string of earrings adorned each ear. A set of sterling necklaces rested on her neck. She was wearing a black skirt with a pale purple sweater set. Her sandals were strappy and relatively high, but amazingly looked comfortable. She was rather tan. The thing that reached out and grabbed him the most was her eyes. They were a haunting shade of aquamarine. It was a unique color all her own. Justin remembered those eyes. Those eyes had enlivened him. They had softened him. Those eyes gave him delightful chills down his spine. Yes, he remembered that moment. He remembered her. She was Pascal d'Angelou. How could he forget her?

Justin could not believe it had been eight years since he had first met her. He rested his head on the plush, leather recliner he was lounging in. It had been in Montreal when he and the other guys were giving a concert that he had first laid eyes upon the French Canadian teen. He had been seventeen, she had been sixteen. Pascal had attended the concert with her non-English speaking friend, Ang'ele. Ang'ele had managed to acquire backstage passes and needed Pascal to interpret for her. He had been intrigued by her from the first moment she entered the room. She was confidant, elegant, and sophisticated. Pascal was not by any means a truly gorgeous person, but there was something about her that always made people look twice at her. Perhaps it had been the eyes. Maybe it was just her mystical prescence. Whatever it was, it had held him captive. His manager, Lou, had hired her to be their interpreter for their stay in Canada, and he and Pascal had found themselves to be very attracted to one another. A romance had evolved. He had never felt so intensely for anyone. That blessed month came to a close, and they parted ways.

However, Fate brought them together again. After the death of her only remaining relative in Canada, her grandfather, Blaise, Pascal had moved to Orlando to be with her aunt and uncle, the Beauvier's. They had gotton back together and nothing could have been sweeter for them. Those times with her had been so splendid. She taught him to love the arts and classical music. He was more articulate and mature since being with her. Every word that came out of her mouth was delicate and alluring. At the same time, he had helped her grow as well. Justin brightened her days and made her forget her mourning. She learned to laugh more and to be more carefree. They had simply complemented each other so very well.

It always seemed so odd to Justin why they never could stay together. They never argued or grew tired of each other. He guessed that it was just because their dreams shifted them in different areas being that they were still so young and had so very much to accomplish. Pascal had left to go to college in England at Cambridge University. Justin had continued his frantic schedule with 'N Sync and remained on top of the charts. It took him a long time to get over her. There had never been anyone like her in his life. Sure, he went out and partied, but none of those relationships lasted. Maybe he wanted it that way. He and Pascal had mutually grown so very distant. It had been over five years since he had last spoken to her. This was the first time he had thought about her in a long time.

Justin may not have kept in touch with her, but he certainly kept up with her life. How could he not? Pascal was renowned throughout the world as a brilliant writer. Her forte was reporting on historical events such as the Holocaust and famous dynasties like the Romanovs of Russia and the Bourbon family of France. She was considered the leading authoriy on matters on such matters. Her documentaries shown on t.v. were dramtic and eloquent. Sometimes she would narrarate them. Justin loved to hear her soft, wispy voice filter through the television and flow through his veins. In the intellectual world, she was the queen. Justin had always known she would become great one day. She was a genius, a prodigy. He was happy for her.

Did she remember him? Did she follow his path of success? Did she go back and look at photographs of them together and remember what they had? Did she still feel that even though they had been young, their relationship had been more and meant more than the average teen romance? Did she? Justin took a deep sigh, and closed the book gently. That was over with. Pascal had been good for him. She had kept him sane. She had been a part of him that changed him into what he was today. That was all he could truly ask that remained of her with him.

Pascal d'Angelou opened the car door of her midnight blue Mustang and sunk back in her seat with an air of fatigue. This car so did not fit her personality, but she loved it anyway. It had been an exhausting day. She had met with her publishers about the release of her newest work, Taste the Tears They Were Not Allowed to Shed: Tales of Children from the Holocaust. She could not believe that the work was finished. It had been an emotionally draining project, but it had also been a labor of intense love. History and major events had always fascinated her. As a teen, she had imagined herself being a famous composer or star violinist, but one day during her freshman year of college, she woke up and knew that it was her calling to write. And write she did. She was only 24 years old, and already, she had published four major literary works, all of which were best-sellers and were made into documentaries. Life was going just as she had hoped it should. She turned the key in the ignition and the steady hum of the engine began. She flipped through the stations to find a peaceful, relaxing song. Suddenly, the familiar voice of a young man came crooning through the radio. Pascal would know that voice from anywhere. It was Justin Timberlake with his new single. It was a soft, tender ballad filled with soul and emotion, a typical Justin kind of song. It was perfect just like all the rest. Pascal agilely pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home.

Her mind slowly began to wander. Hearing his voice made her remember those days with him that seemed like only yesterday. Had it really been eight years since they had met? She had been crazy about him from the first moment of their first meeting. She cherished getting to know him and falling for him. He showed her how wonderful love could be. Every moment with him had been special and unique, but college was awaiting her. It was her destiny to succeed and make a name for herself. That had been a heartwrenching day leaving him and the other boys behind.

Still, she had adjusted well to England. Europe was splendid. There was never a dull moment. Cambridge was fantastic for her. She graduated with the highest honors and did equally as well in graduate school. She had moved back to Canada to rejuvanate for a while. As much as she loved her native home, Orlando and the the sunny, bright sights were where she longed to be. Pascal felt confidant and exuberant over her decision. Her house had been packed up. A house had already been purchased. All she needed to do was close up a few business affairs and complete some transactions. The only thing she was a bit anxious over was the prospect of meeting the boys again. Would they remember her? Would they think she had changed too drastically? Would things be able to be the same? Would they even have the chance to rekindle a former friendship? Would Justin be the same? She sighed as she turned her car into her driveway.

Brilliant, delightful hues of sunshine poured into the bright, open kitchen of Pascal's new home. It was a luxurious, four bedroom home that overlooked a lake in Orlando. Two guest bedrooms and a study remained downstairs while her bedroom and the other extra bedroom were situated upstairs. A loft lay just above the second floor. Her studio would be set up there for channeling her creative moments dedicated to her writing. Back on the main floor, a dining room was located with an enormous window in which a massive front yard could be seen. The spacious living area had just the right amount of room for her multitudes of books which would need a great amount of bookshelves. The backyard was a site to see. A wooden deck extended out towards a moderately sized pool of Caribbean blue. Orange and lemon trees were in abundance. The grass was a delectable shade of kelly green. Pascal was quite pleased with her decision. Yes, this was a house that she could think in. She would have no trouble adjusting to life in Orlando....again.

Justin stooped down to pick up that day's paper that he had forgotton to collect that morning. He had spent all day with Jessica Vladimir. She was an aspiring model whom he had met a mutual friend's party. For the time being, she would suffice to occupy his mind. He fumbled with the alarm and his keys. Jessica had wanted to go shopping, and it had worn him out. She had tried on almost every outfit in the store and had wanted a ten minute critique from him on every selection. Still, she was a site to look at. Justin made his way up to his room, changed into his favorite pair of flannel pajama bottoms and crawled into bed. He was not quite ready to go to bed yet, so he reached for the paper he had brought with him upstairs. After reading about the recent political scandals and trajedies of the world, he turned to the section dealing with the local area. His eyes focused intently on the picture and caption that lay before him. "Renowned author, Pascal d'Angelou returns to the Orlando Area". He could not believe his eyes. There she was. It was just too eerie. Just the other day, he had been pondering over her, but there it was.

It was a wonderful picture of Pascal signing a copy of one of her books for an avid fan. She was stylishly dressed as always and had a remarkably pleasant expression on her face. It was the first photograph he had seen of her in a while. Pascal was not one to desire to be in the public eye all that much. She liked to be mysterious and free from an abundance of attention. He smiled. She looked the same, but yet so very different. That look of intrigue and magic was still there, but she had matured in looks so drastically. She was definitely a woman now. Justin read over the article with extreme care. Well, it was true. She was here. What did that mean to him? Should he meet with her? Time changes things whether people like it or not. He put the paper on the floor and turned off the lights. He would talk to the others tomorrow. He wondered what they would think about her "homecoming".

Justin, J.C., Joey, and Lance were all standing in a group with their wives and Justin's newest flame, Jessica. They mingled with the incoming partygoers that were there at a birthday bash for a friend.

"I just love this house, Justin," Jessica said in awe and then turned to him coyly, "Why don't you buy me one like this?" She ran her fingers through his hair. He laughed even though it was a bit crass of her to suggest such a thing. He was very attracted to her, but sometimes she said things that were a bit too forward. Still, he was the envy of the entire room being with her. That compensated nicely. Justin put an arm around her waist and grinned at her. Jessica shot a victorious glare at the women that looked in her direction enviously.

"Oh, my goodness! It is such a pleasure to meet you! I have read all of your books. Let me just tell you, those books have become such a huge part of my life. I cried til I couldn't cry anymore with your depiction of the love story between Nicholas and Alexandra," a female in attendance was beside herself over the meeting of someone obviously important.

"Thank-you so very much. You are too kind. I really, really enjoyed working on that novel. The Romanovs were so misunderstood. I simply felt it was time for the world to look at them as real people who lived and felt in the same way that most of us do," a calm but passionate foreign voice returned. The boys looked at each other knowingly. There was no mistaking that voice. They turned around simultaneously in the direction of "the voice".

There she was, Pascal d'Angelou in the flesh once again. It was her all right. She was relatively tall at 5'8 which made her look all the more sleek and sophisticated. Her attire consisted of a formfitting but modest brown dress with spagetti straps. It looked like it was made for her. Her hair was pulled up a bit with silver pins. Pascal was still conversing the former lady mentioned. As soon as she finished, she could feel eyes upon her. She turned around nonchalantly and found four pairs of hauntingly familiar eyes. Her look of surprise quickly melted into her infamous warm, half-smile. They sauntered towards each other.

"Hey, how are you. Long time no see," J.C. gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"You look like you are doing well," Joey commented giving her a kiss as well.

"It has been too long," Lance smiled and gave the third kiss. Justin leaned forward with mixed emotions running through his mind. "Come on, you were only eighteen; get over it," he thought quickly. "Hey, Pascal, it is great to see you again. Welcome back." He opted to give her a hug. Her familiar scent of Alfred Sung perfume drifted through his senses. It was the only perfume she ever wore. He had always loved it. Jessica tugged at his arm impatiently. "Oh, Pasal, this is my girlfriend, Jessica Vladimir. She has made quite a name for herself in the modeling world, right?" He grinned proudly.

"Justin, you really are too kind, darling," Jessica linked her arm through his and smiled challengingly at Pascal. If Pascal noticed, she showed no signs of it. "You are making quite a sensation moving back here. You must be quite talented. If I was a reader, I am sure that I would enjoy your books. I guess I have just never had the stomach for reading. It just tires me." Her tone was condescending and patronizing. Pascal merely shrugged good naturedly and focused her attention on the other women.

"It is such a pleasure to meet you all. It seems that the boys have all done very well for themselves. They are wonderful men. You are very lucky." The women soon found themselves in an amiable conversation while the boys talked about sports and music. Jessica stood off to the side talking with some of her modeling friends. She knew of Justin's past with Pascal, and she had already made it clear that Pascal was not to make that part of his life come back to life.

Justin stole glances at Pascal every few minutes or so. It certainly was nice to see her again. He was happy for her and her success. However, for some reason as he watched her, something inside of him made him feel a trifle hostile towards her. Why? She had done nothing to him, but that feeling was there. When he had met Pascal, she had been a welcomed relief. As a member of 'N Sync, he was constantly surrounded by girls younger than he was that he had no interest in dating. Many of the girls that were near his age screamed and acted extremely juvenile when he first met them. Pascal gave him a release from all of that. He could talk to her with feeling and meaning, but now he was in a different world. It was a different type of sophisticated world. Parties were everywhere. Beautiful women surrounded him wherever he went. Justin definitely approved of this world. He did not need under any circumstances Pascal coming in and making feelings resurface. He did not want to fall for a writer. Compared to Jessica, life with Pascal would be too intellectual and slow. Jessica's world, his world, was as fast paced as humanly possible.

Justin could not help but still see her as the Pascal he had known and loved. Look at her. She was still elegant and radiant. Well, this was the end of it. She would not get to him. Even after only seeing her for half an hour, he had made up his mind. She would not, could not, should not get to him. Jessica was his to bestow his affections upon. That was how it would be. Then, he felt silly. Pascal probably had not even thought of rekindling their romance. She was far too independent to dwell on such things. Justin did not even know if she was involved with anyone. It would not surprise him if she was. A professor or some philosopher had likely stolen her heart. What did he have to worry and fret over? He carelessesly tossed those ideas out of his head and went to mingle with Jessica. Pascal was out of his mind romantically. Frienship was all there would be.