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"I want my mother," Chris said. "We already told you," Lance said, "she's on vacation. We don't have her number." "I want her anyway." "Now, Chris," Justin said. Chris' eyes filled with tears, and his lower lip started to tremble. "What kind of popstars *are* you," he said. "This is. This is kidnapping, and I don't have to take it! I. Want. My. Mother." "Hey, hey," JC said. He pulled Chris into a tight hug, and glared at Justin over Chris' head. "Why don't we look and see if it's programmed on your cellphone?" Chris sniffled pitifully. He had always hated articles that called him pixie-ish, or elfish, but he very much fit the part right now. He wasn't even 5 feet tall, with a tiny little face, long black hair and huge brown eyes, and he already had JC wrapped around his little finger. "I miss her," he said. "I know, sweetie. We'll find her for you." "Okay," Chris said, and like that he was sunshine and ice cream again. JC started fishing through Chris' stuff, looking for his cellphone. The rest of them sat around the room and stared at Chris. Chris himself blushed, and looked at the floor. "Hey," he said suddenly, tugging on Justin's sleeve. "Yes?" "You're Justin, right?" "Yes," Justin said, relief evident in his voice. If Chris could just *remember,* just be a 30-year-old man with the body of a 12-year-old girl, it would be much, much easier. "Justin Timberlake," Chris said. "Yes." "Can I have your autograph?" Joey sighed. This was gonna be worse than he'd thought. "I can't find your mom's number," JC said. "That's okay," Chris replied, and grabbed Justin's hand. "I'll stay with
him."
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