See there was this girl who talked to me one day. She couldn't have been more than 6 or 7. She was a cute one too. Little pony tails. Shy smile. She'd grow up to be a knockout. A real knockout. I met her when I was 14. She asked me one day, "Justin, will you ever forget me?"

And I would always answer with a smile and say, "Course not, kiddo". Then I'd punch her on her arm and hold her in my arms.

Years later, when I turned 21, we were playing at a stadium. I couldn't remember which one. I never kept track of where we were. I hardly ever knew which city we were in. That night before the concert I got a letter. I couldn't figure out who it was from or what to do with it. I eyed the trash can beside my nightstand and for a brief moment, I thought about just throwing it away. Trashing it. I threw away a bunch of those when my box of letters got too full. But this one was different. It didn't confess someone's undying love for me. It didn't have the words "love" and "support" in it. I just couldn't will myself to throw it away. I wouldn't. But it was so bizarre. So odd.

I read it so many times out loud that my mouth became numb with empty words.

To the infamous justin timberlake:

Where are you now? In a world where your life was much better? Or much worse? You said you'd never forget. But you have. Oh how you have, mr. timberlake. I'm sure I was a result of an empty promise in another faceless crowd. And for that, I truly am sorry. I'm sorry it had to be that way for you.

I used to know you, and I used to know a girl who would always let you know about the only three words she knew by heart.

Forget me not.

Signed,
Someone you used to know.

I couldn't put my finger on who sent it, so I just shrugged and threw it on top of my bed bunk.

Right after our last song I remember running through the halls with security all around me and with Lance fiddling with his cellphone. We ran so fast just so no fans would see us and maybe rob us of the little clothes we had on. Lonnie pushed open the door and we could hear screams, but they were so far away. I smiled a little thinking we had outwitted our fans who were sometimes too smart for their own good. JC caught my smile and he chuckled a little. But as we walked closer to our bus, I saw one girl. Just one. I looked down to make sure my new pants were looking good and if my wifebeater clung in all the right places. She caught me looking, but never once screamed. She just looked at me with this blank face but her eyes held something else. I wasn't real good with emotions so I tried to play it off and smile at her with that big toothy grin I had. But she didn't smile back. She just cocked her head and her lips played this amused expression. I remembered walking up to her and hearing that one single comment that escaped her lips that night.

"Mr. Timberlake, you have forgotten me."

It took me awhile, but I answered back. But she never heard it.

"Sorry, kiddo."

My mind was flashing a million different memories and before I could regain my balance, she was gone. Just like that. But I remembered her. I did.

Except this time she called me Mr. Timberlake instead of just Justin.

Suddenly I felt so old. And so expendable.