Nine

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Beth:

"Aw, c'mon!" Justin barked a laugh as he carried on chasing after me around the small dressing room, making me feel like I was about to die, with my legs trying to bring me as far away as I possibly could from him. "Just one kiss, baby, just one kiss. Do you really want to do this to yourself?"

"Get the hell away from me, you Bieber," I warned, stopping in my tracks as my hands fell onto the nearest object I could find―the twirling chair―my breath seeming to grow shorter and shorter as I gasped for more air so that my lungs could cut me some slack. "And stop calling me baby, for God's sake!"

I will never kiss Justin Bieber, even if I was asked to, even if it was just on the cheek, even if it was for good luck just because he was going up stage for his performance.

Sure, he could dream about me doing that to him, but in real life?

N E V E R.

And like, no. Don't even go all 'Never Say Never' on my ass, that's, in case you hadn't already known, two years ago. Shouldn't you start saying, 'Believe' or hell, even better, I got it (blank blank), please believe it. 

"You're so fucking. . ." He panted slightly, eyes squinted as his lips stretched into a wider grin, causing the dimple on his left cheek to make an appearance, causing me to purse my lips in for a second.

"Fucking what?" I asked with a hint of annoyance, resting a palm against my hip as I shifted my weight to a leg. "Fucking fat?" I suggested, lifting an eyebrow. "Fucking stupid? Fucking pathetic?" I offered, watching as he shook his head at all of my answers.

"You're not fat," he said seriously in an instant; his brown eyes, from where I stood and was looking into, turning a shade darker as I noticed his jaw clicking through my peripheral vision. "You know that, don't you?"

"Sure," I lied naturally, flashing him an easy grin without any hesitation. "I was just suggesting? Since you're a guy, and guys hold hiiiiigh expectations for girls, hm."

"Come here," he waved his fingers in the air, motioning for me to make my way forward, but I remained standing at my spot, still skeptical about something.

"No, Beth," he flatly stated, annoyance plastered across his face, "I'm not going to attempt kissing you, will you just chill the fuck out and stop being a paranoid fuck."

Nonetheless, even though I was still feeling thoroughly skeptical and suspicious about the entire thing, I eventually made my way forward because my legs were disagreeing with my heart as well as my thoughts, therefore bringing me closer to the awaiting figure.

"Look," I inhaled deeply, before sighing deeply, "if you're going to give me a lecture about how I'm not fat just like all those other people did, good try, you don't even need to open your mouth and say shit. Just do your push ups, a little more vocal warms up and get yourself ready."

Slowly tilting his head to the side, he allowed his arms to creep around my neck, settling themselves firmly above my shoulders whereas all I could do was stare―stare at him because all of the senses in my body had somehow flown all the way up to heaven, leaving me only the feeling of anxiety. . .

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