It was a couple hours before the concert, and Eryn and Sasha were in their bedrooms getting dressed.

"Sasha!" Eryn knocked on the door. Sasha opened it. "I need your Tommy Girl perfume… please." Sasha nodded and handed it to her.

"Can I use your black mascara?" Sasha asked Eryn. "Please?" Eryn handed Sasha her makeup bag. "Thanks," Sasha said, and shut the door.

Finally after an hour the girls were completely ready. Their outfits were on, their hair was done, their shoes were buckled, and their makeup was finished. They sat down on the couch, ready.

"Do you just want to go now? I mean, we can get dinner or something," Sasha said.

"Yeah, I just want to check my email first," Eryn told her. She sat down at the computer. Logging onto Yahoo! Mail she typed in her username and password and waited.

Eryn clicked and read who the messages were from. The first one was from James.

"Oh, shit," Eryn said. "Sash, James emailed me."

"Read it outloud," Sasha said to her.

"Okay," Eryn agreed. "Dear Eryn, I want to apologize for the other night. I really like you. I don't know what Kevin did to you, and what made you come. See, Eryn, the thing is, he's a bastard. He will always be. I just turned 19, I'm not a drunk. I am going to call you, okay?" She looked at Sasha. "That's what it says. I'm going to tell him not to call me."

Sasha picked up her cell phone. "Call the police, Eryn. He's a stalker."

"No, he's not," Eryn said. "But I will email him to stop bothering me." She did, and checked the other email. It was from Crunk_Guy. Her heart fluttered. She opened it.

She put the email in her Crunk_Guy folder and wrote back, quickly saying that she will meet him then. She got off the computer, turned to Sasha, and said: "Let's jet!"

***

The concert was almost finished. They were on their last song.

"Can this be true, tell me, can this be real… How could I put into words what I feel…" Justin sang out to the audience. Tears were springing to his eyes, with thoughts of Madeline, but he struggled to hold them back.

Eryn looked up at him, happy for the front row. The pre-teens around her were really annoying screaming at the top of their lungs, but she blocked them out, staring at Justin's face, and focusing on his singing.

He's so hot, she thought. Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

Minutes later, the song was finished. As N Sync shouted thanks to the audience, they went off stage. People started filing out of the building, but Eryn wouldn't leave, until she had an autograph.

Justin went backstage, sweaty and full of anger. He was angry because that song… it made him think of Madeline. They weren't going to sing it, but they had to, it was a favourite. He took off his shirt, and reached into the front pocket of it, the one that was over his heart. Empty.

Shit! He thought. He always kept the letter from Madeline in the pocket, over his heart. And it was gone. It must have fallen out when he was dancing. He went to look on stage.

Walking out to the stage, he noticed the white piece of paper. Breathing a sigh of relief, he picked it up, and place it in his wallet, which he had put in the pocket of his pants.

Eryn couldn’t breath. What luck! Staying a few extra minutes, had given herself a chance to meet JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE!

"Um, sir? Mr. Timberlake?" Eryn stammered. "I don't know what to call you."

Justin turned around. He hadn't noticed two girls still in the stadium. "Yeah, hi," Justin sighed, and desperately tried to keep tears from falling. "Call me Justin."

Eryn's nervousness immediately turned to concern. "Thanks, Justin. What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, just tired," he lied. "Would you like an autograph?"

"Yes, please," Eryn said. "Um, here." She handed him paper and a pen. Sasha walked up to Eryn, and told her that she was going to try to sneak backstage and meet JC and she'll meet her later. Eryn nodded.

"Can I say something first, Mr. Timber… I mean, Justin?" Eryn asked him.

"Sure," he said, forcing a smile.

"I just wanted to say, that I think you are incredibly talented, and that's why you are my favourite. I think you are talented and good looking, and unlike every 12 year old, I think that you have talent, too, so I am not some teenybopper, okay?" Eryn smiled, then felt ridiculous, realizing that she must have sounded like an idiot.

"Thanks," Justin smiled, this time not forcing it. He looked at her closer. She's beautiful, he thought. Gorgeous. Reminds me of someone. I can't think who, though.

He took the paper and the pen, and looked at Eryn. "Who should I make this out to?"

"Me," she answered. "I mean, Eryn." She blushed.

"Okay, Eryn," he said, grinning. "People do that all the time, you wouldn't even know."

"Oh, okay," Eryn said. He walked over to the drumset and picked up a poster. "Here, how's this? I will sign this, too."

"Thanks! That would be wicked!" She said. She took the paper he signed, and frowned. "Um, sir? I mean, Justin? This isn't how you spell my name. It's E-R-Y-N. Can you put it that way on the poster?"

"Sure," he signed it. They talked for a few more minutes, then he said he had to meet fans backstage.

Eryn walked to the car, where Sasha was waiting. She told her the story. Sasha had no luck getting backstage.

When they got home, they both went to bed, tired. Eryn set her alarm for 7 am.

End Of Chapter Six