I'm Not Sorry: A Justin Bieber Fan Fiction

Eighteen

"You did not just fucking say that," I heard her gasp, nearly making me trip over as I mentally doubled over in laughter.

"Oh!" Justin dramatically exhaled. "Yes, I did, actually." And I could already feel the smirk playing on his face. If this goes on, I don't know how well he's going to take it because like me, he has anger management problem.

And while I have control over it. . . He doesn't.

He's just that impulsive.

I looked through a translucent glass wall, and could only see two shadows over there.

"Well, your ugly girlfriend's a fucking piece of shit that I've never ever seen!" She shrieked.

Ouch, there.

"She's short, fat, and such a revolting bitch―a fucking disgrace to her family, and to you!" That waitress yelled, and pulled her hands up onto her hips, resting them there.

Again I say, ouch.

I think a piece of my heart just broke.

But, um, whatever.

"Then what makes you think you won't be a disgrace to me?" Justin retorted, "Your voice is already as annoying as it gets, so I'm already on the verge of killing something. And you still have the nerve to speak of my girlfriend like this? Oh, wow. Talk about irony!

"At least she dresses better than you," Justin paused and looked her, up and down. "Definitely. And, she, has a better face, fucking legs, damn looks, and she has a better motherfucking attitude as compared to you!"

To say I'm relieved would be an understatement because I felt beyond that. This show was becoming better and better, wow.

That waitress rolled her eyes. "Come on. You know you still want me."

"Oh my Lord, Jesus Christ. Who the fuck wants," Justin paused and swallowed hard. "You?!" He spat.

That waitress' eyes almost bulged out. "To say the least, I'm so much better than your girlfriend even if you refuse to admit that."

"Oh my God," Justin shook his head. "Are you stupid or just stupid? I don't want you. 

"You're a fucking whore. Whoever spares just a second for you, is a dog! And obviously, I'm not like those other guys who go for looks. Look at you! Your attitude is gross, your face is disgusting, I have so many more other things to criticize about you, but all I need is something."

The waitress drew a shaky breath in. "What?"

"My girlfriend that can't even be compared to somebody as low as you." Justin scowled, and marched towards the door, but that's exactly where he spotted me, leant against the wall with an amused facial expression on my face.

He better not be putting on act just to prove that he's not a player because if he really does it, I swear I'll―

The waitress let out a groan, snatching my thoughts aside with a roll of her eyes. "Son of a bitch," I heard her mutter back in the room, making me flare up almost instantly.

She could insult me and I wouldn't care, but if she insults someone I love, she's dead.

Grabbing my hand to pull me away, it became my turn to scowl as I roughly shoved my purse into this chest. He shot me an obvious look of confusion, but I knew I needed to something important rather than stay and explain.

Smirking, I walked up to the waitress with my hands crossed tightly over my chest. "Hey, Chanel, what did you just say?"

"I said your goddamn boyfriend's a son of a bitch!" She spat furiously in her high-pitched tone, annoying literally the shit out of me.