Work the next day was a blur, she did two adrenaline tabs and had three stim drinks, and even so by six pm, the end of her shift, Christina was dazed and pain was shooting up her side. The rain was slowing down, one monsoon of many to come, the first deluge.
At home, Britney's ID flashed on her Connect, and it was maybe a handout but her stomach growled so she took the call.
A car came to pick her up, and she only held her stitches until the door closed.
~
No red wine this time, and it was barely eight pm so they couldn't be going for early dinner, drinks or the like. There were sandwiches in a cooler at her feet, though, and Christina helped herself without asking, ate three in rapid succession and then slumped against the seats, feeling the sealant on her cuts numb the skin.
Britney stared most out the window and Christina watched buildings go past until finally, quicker than she'd thought, they ended up slowing down and stopping in front of a warehouse. A warehouse in front of one of the smaller docks. "Uh."
Britney put a finger to her lips, and then she realized. This was Neptune Studios.
~
"So I'm here why?"
Britney had her elbow, was guiding her slightly in and around the studio. "Bodyguard."
"I'm what?"
"No, really," and Britney laughed. "I'm supposed to be recording tonight, and, since. Well. Sean doesn't want you back at the Sunset."
"Fuck, really?" She snorted. "Guess I made a bad impression. Really. Why am I here?"
Britney pursed her lips. "Can't I just like you? I don't live in a tenement, I live uptown, there isn't always something on the agenda. You don't," and she put a hand on Christina's shoulder, cool hand with smooth skin, "you don't have to live like that every day."
Christina went back to watching the other lady in the recording booth. She had about an hour before Busta would start to wonder where she was, ten pm a good enough time to show up without people talking. An hour to see what kind of magic made the music Chris and D and Chad and everyone else mixed down at alarm all the nights she was there dancing.
"That's one of our most popular singers," pharrell said, coming up behind them. "Britney, notice what she's doing. You'll be singing next week; I'll get her to talk to you later."
The girl was hot, in an almost-dangerous way. The way Christina liked them best. One of the ways Christina liked them best. Her voice was sultry and commanding, Christina couldn't help but listen. "So how available is she?" she asked, as Shakira finished crooning into the microphone and the studio tech cut to an ad.
"They say a guy cheated on her, once," Pharrell remarked.
Shakira, mic off, gulped a lot of water and looked as tired as everyone else. Mouth closed she was no one different, just another very hot girl. Britney said, "oh?"
Pharrell nodded. "Yeah."
"And?"
"Well," and Pharrell jutted his chin out, the tech snapped back to Shakira. She closed her eyes, started singing again. "They say he did. No one could really find him after the rumor started." Shakira winked at the three of them through the glass divider, and Pharrell turned her voice up a little bit on his board, the guitar down. "Or the girl."
"Oh?"
He nodded. "Yeah. So they say."
"Oh."
"Yeah." Christina decided not to watch the move of her hips or the softness of her lips too much, kept staring right into her eyes.
~
Justin was waiting outside the studio in his two seater. Even though he offered, and with Britney curled tightly against the door there probably would have been room, Christina walked. She made her way slowly, winding around the different docks and through the warehouses, her feet moving unconsciously, until she saw the sign that read alarm.