The Rock Failure ( Justin Timberlake Fanfiction)

The Rock Failure

TO FULLY UNDERSTAND THIS CHAPTER, WATCH THE VIDEO AT THE SIDE

 PROLOUGE,

2002

“So you took a chance, made other plans, but I bet you didn’t know they’d come crashin’ down”

Justin’s face stared out the screen at Kayleigh, and she threw the remote control at the TV.

“How could he?” she whispered, sobs shaking her shoulder, “I hate him,” she repeated, burying her face in the sofa.

“It is fine, Kayle,” said her manager, Dawn, putting an arm around Kayleigh, “Anyway-“she added brightly, “At least nobody knows that it’s about you.  Everybody thinks it’s about Britney.”

“That doesn’t make it any better,” sniffled Kayleigh, emerging from the pillow, “In fact it makes it worse. If Britney knew, she’d hate me forever.”

“Look, Kayle,” Dawn said patiently, “Britney has her own career to deal with, and you have yours. You must completely forget about this whole fiasco. This song was made because Justin’s songwriters are brain dead and can’t think of anything new. Therefore, they must bring out the whole tired ‘Oh, feel sorry for me’ type thing. Whether it’s about you or Britney, you’ve got to suck it up, Kayleigh, and grow a second skin. If something as little as this will reduce you to tears, then maybe you’re not cut out to be a singer after all.”

“You’re right, Dawn,” said Kayleigh, drying her tears on the corner of the red paisley throw, “When’s rehearsal?”

“That’s what I like to hear,” said Dawn, flashing Kayleigh a quick smile, “That’s how true stars talk.”

“I’m not a true star,” sighed Kayleigh, “I’m a washed-up failure of a singer. My records sold 87 last year. My gigs are in pubs and clubs. I’m not a star. Britney is, Justin is, but I’m not.”

Dawn took Kayleigh’s shoulders and turned the twenty-one year old girl so she was looking Kayleigh directly in the eye. “Kayleigh.” She said sternly, “The only reason Britney is a success and you aren’t because Britney puts in the hours. She never stops the singing, dancing and conditioning work. You, on the other hand, prefer to mess around attempting to write songs and poems when people like Britney and Justin, and, yes, Christina, understand that is not the job of the singer, it is for the songwriters to do. You don’t care about the way you look. You go on stage in jeans and ripped t-shirts with no makeup and expect applause. Now you realise why they are stars and not you.”

“Harsh, Dawn,” said Kayleigh, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, you’ve got to pull yourself together. This is just not acceptable. Get up and be a woman. Get changed and wash your face. Meet us at New Lark studios for rehearsal two hours from now.” She said exasperatedly, shaking her head at Kayleigh, who was still cowering as though Justin’s song had physically hurt her.

“Old Cow,” muttered Kayleigh as Dawn left her alone. She sat for a few moments, remembering the blonde girl in Justin’s video. She shivered, the tousled blonde hair hair laying around her shoulders a horrible reminder of the video. Two hours, thought Kayleigh. In one minute, she was upstairs in the bathroom. Her lips moved in a small prayer as the silver scissors drew ever closer to her head.