FicWad

After driving for 4 hours in the car, the black escalade finally pulled into another parking lot. Unlike the parking lot in L.A, this one was covered in snow and you could see a few snowcapped mountains. A bodyguard opened the car door. "Dude chill, this is vacation." Justin said, hopping out. There was no response from the man in black. Ok. Justin turned around to get his suitcase from the back of trunk when it was handed to him by another bodyguard. "Thanks." he muttered. They walked for a fews steps before Justin had enough. "Look, why don't you guys just go get something to eat or something? I'm just gonna get to my room and you can get another room." The two bodyguards looked at each other. They turned to him. "Right Mr. Timberlake, we'll send you to the information desk and once you get your room we'll be off." Justin sighed. "Fine-suit yourselves." The Grand Bear Lodge was beautiful. It was made entirely of wood except for the door which was made of gold...or at least painted gold. The inside of the Lodge was just as beautiful. It looked like an old-fashioned cabin except 11 times larger, complete with several fireplaces and a moose's head hanging from the wall. Justin spotted the infromation desk to the left of the entrance. The girl behind it spotted them quickly too. It's hard not to see someone who's accompanied by two bodyguards who looked like they were in the mood to hurt someone. Her eyes were large. "H-Hi, may I h-help you?" she asked nervously. She looked to be about in high school and wore a uniform. Justin smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. "Yeah, I made a reservation. Could you find me a room please?" The girl took out a form from behind the desk, still eyeing the two men nervously. "Could you fill this out please?" She asked, slightly more comfortable. Justin provided his name, phone-number, and address, he handed it back to her. The girl took a look at it. Her eyes widened even more. "Y-You're Justin Timberlake?" she asked disbelievingly. Justin sighed. He was so bundled up, he had hoped that no one would have noticed. "Yeah." He answered, reluctantly. The girl's jaw dropped. The bodyguards tensed. They were used to over-excited fans and knew how to handle situations like these. "C-Could you sign an autograph for me?" the girl asked, still shocked. "Sure." Justin replied. This was vacation but vacation or not, there were always going to be fans. After he had gotten the keys and his room number, he was escorted to the elevator by a maid. Just then his cellphone rang. Justin answered it.
"Hello?"
"Hey "J" we're almost there." said a voice on the other end. It was Trace, Justin's best friend since age 3.
"Oh hey Trace. Whats up?"
Trace laughed.
"Driving with your mothers a real adventure you know that?" Trace told him.
"Oh and why's that?" Justin asked thinking he already knew the answer.
"She's afraid the guy who's driving this thing is too uncarefull so she's taken over the driving."
Justin snorted. That sounded just like his mom. The bodyguards were bossy but she always got her way. It took 3 months, not to mention anger and frustration, to talk Lynn Harless out of being Justin manager when Justified was in the works.
"Right so you guys gonna be here soon?" Justin asked.
"Uhh yeah in about 2 hours." Trace answered. "Why couldn't we have flowen to Alaska?
Justin sighed.
"Dude, stop complaining and just focus on getting here, k?"
"Fine see ya in two hours." Trace muttered.
Justin ended the conversation. Before entering the elevator, he took a look outside the window where there were many mountains covered with snow, skiers, and snowboarders. Soon he would be one of them. Before, and even sometime after his parents got divorced, Justin's dad used to take him snowboarding every winter. Just the two of them. Justin loved those times and cherished every moment of it. That was before all the fame happened. Anyway, soon he was going to be doing his favorite sport again..he was content. The maid held the elevator door open for him. "Right in here, sir." She said. "Drop the sir." Justin answered.