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Chris woke up because he was cold. He was cold because his clothes - which, for some reason, were tiny pink flannel pajamas with white sheep all over them - had split. Completely. It occurred to him, as he pulled the remnants of fabric off his body, that this was a good thing, because if they hadn't split he could have been strangled. He did wonder how he'd gotten them on in the first place, though. Also, there was a key on a necklace around his neck, but he had no clue what it opened or where he'd gotten it. He got up because he clearly wasn't in his own bed, and he felt weird sleeping naked in a guestroom. When he couldn't find any boxers in the dresser, and the only suitcase around was both covered in stickers and empty, he flipped on the lights. The room - which looked like JC's guestroom, though he wasn't positive - was covered with teenie memorabilia. Two *nsync posters - one a group shot, and one a giant Justin head - were plastered on one wall. A Backstreet poster and an - O-Town? - poster lay on the floor. There was a sparkly headband on top of the dresser, tank tops and frilly things all over the room, and a diary at the desk. A bright pink diary, with an angel on the cover, and a little lock. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Chris wrapped a sheet around his waist, sat down, and started reading. The first thing that struck him was the extreme girliness of the entries. Every page had stickers on it, and little hearts instead of dots for the "i"s, and those gel roller things that were supposed to show up on black paper. Also, it was his handwriting. Dear Diary, Justin was mean to me today. He wouldn't let me get the shoes I wanted from Wal-Mart, even though they were perfectly acceptable, and he wouldn't give me an autograph even when I begged and begged and begged and he likes Britney better 'n' me! I know he does, 'cause he told Joey so. And maybe I was kind of jealous of her when they talked on the phone while we were shopping, and maybe I sort of caused a teensy little scene about the sneakers so he'd get off the phone. Joey was pretty nice, I guess. He should get more solos. Except I don't think he liked it when Alexa came over and we watched MTV. He said O-Town sucked!!!!! And he won't let me smoke, even though it's soooooo cool, 'cause Alexa does it. But I got Nick Carter's autograph, anyway, and he's way cuter than Joey and nearly as good as Justin. I [heart] him. I have to go now 'cause Joey's coming down the hall and I was supposed to be in bed hours ago. He's very bossy. Oops. Joey just yelled at me. I don't think he should get any solos, after all. Also, Lance and JC are way hotter. And Ashley. Love always,
Chris groaned as he flipped to the next page. It was starting to come back to him - to horribly, overwhelmingly come back to him. He had a vague recollection of hurling himself at Nick Carter, and he was pretty sure he'd thrown some rather expensive sneakers at Justin and called Carson Daly cute. At least he'd been right on *that* point... Dear Diary, JC is the sweetest popstar in the entire history of the Universe. Lance was all mean and yelly and only took me shopping for 45 minutes even though he pinkie swore! And then he dropped me off with JC, and didn't even say good-bye or anything, but JC made me cookies and let me watch MTV and braided my hair and promised to help me get Justin. When we get married, I don't know if I wanna change my name. It's silly that the girl always has to. Why can't he be Justin Randall Kirkpatrick? That sounds nice. Although Christyna Alanna Timberlake is pretty good too. Maybe we could put 'em together. Justin and Christyna Timberlake-Kirkpatrick. Kirkpatrick-Timberlake. That's kinda long, though. I know! I'll smush 'em together. Christyna Alanna Timbertrick. Also, we're going to have 7 kids, 3 boys and 4 girls, and they're gonna be 2 music groups. Randy (he's the oldest) and Nicky (he's smack in the middle) and Chris (the baby) are gonna be Too Cool. Justine and Alanna (twins, right after Randy) and Beverly and Linda are gonna be Sugar 'n' Spice, and they're gonna be even more famous than Justin. JC didn't give me a bedtime, but I'm feeling kinda funny, so I'm gonna sign off now. Maybe it's love. :-) Love always,
Chris stared at the diary. This was not possible. This was not
possible. This was... shit.
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