Justin Bieber/Jason McCann Imagines | Book One

Grey

Sat at the table, a woman sits staring at the wall opposite, as though interested by it. She doesn't acknowledge me, even when I make my way around the table so her eyes are piercing through my stomach.

"Hi. What's your name?"

She doesn't show a sign of wanting to talk to me, or wanting to be here, and I don't expect an answer from her and I know I'm right not to when she continues to keep her lips in a straight line. My hands press flat against the table so I can see the veins on the back of my hand rising through my skin; they look like tiny rivers.

"I'm Justin Bieber," I say and she - finally - looks me in the face, although she looks less than pleased, "but you don't care about that," I mutter and grab a chair that's been pressed up against the wall and sit in front of her. "Do you know why you're here?"

She takes a few seconds, but I watch her lips part and she takes a deep breath. She's starting to tremble slightly. "Because I want to live like a real human being?" She looks like she might start crying.

"To live like a real human being is to abide by the law and take your doses, and we both know you haven't being doing so. Why?"

"What keeps you going?" she asks, taking me by surprise.

"What?"

"What makes you get out of bed in the morning? What's your reason for living? What's your purpose?"

I frown at her, watching her eyebrows furrow while waterfalls are building in her eyes, threatening to burst and flood her cheeks.

"To serve, to make sure offenders like you are incinerated the second you leave this room."

"Are you happy?"

I shrug. "I'm merely doing my job; I neither love nor hate it."

Her facial expression shows sympathy, although I'm unsure as to why. Her body shakes, causing strands of her hair to twist and turn.

"Feeling is beautiful. It's what makes us human and what keeps us alive, and yet, it's being taken from us completely. Why?"

It's starting to feel as though I'm the one being interrogated. "Emotion is forbidden and you know it. Emotion is dangerous. These doses are what's keeping this race existing, if you have some kind of problem with that, you should take it up with the government, although I highly doubt you're going to make it as far as the double doors of this building. Now, answer my question; why aren't you taking your doses?"

As though something snaps - a vein or a muscle - behind the surface of her skin, the tears finally spill over, gliding down her eyelashes before splashing against the woman's cheeks. I notice her try to blink them away.

"I can't live like that anymore; not feeling anything, it's driving me insane. I refuse," she gulps.

"Very well, but you know what happens to anyone who's been found to be feeling and/or not taking their dose-"

"Do it. I don't care."

She's shaking vigorously now and she looks as though she's shivering. Her cheeks are a faded pink, and the victim of multiple sets of tears; all hot and salty and leaving a subtle shine to her skin. I watch her blankly. Neither of us speaks for a moment.

There's a fan doing circles above us and it's creating a humming sound all around the room, meaning we're never in complete silence. I inspect her face and see hurt and pain, my head tilts to the right ever so slightly.

"Do you not ever wonder what you're here for, what's outside your life within these walls?" Her voice is calm, which I find unusual. I notice she's slumped back in her seat now, her fingers locked around her stomach.

"I have a family; a wife and a kid. That's my life."

"How? How can you possibly take a woman's hand in marriage when you don't love her? How can you be intimate with her, and conceive a child when you know you're not going to love the heart and soul of that child? You feel nothing for those people who you share a life with, do you really know them at all?"

I frown.

"Have you never wanted to be able to touch someone's hand and feel their warmth? What about music and art and poetry- oh wait, I forgot, you're the one who makes the effort to go around and burn those kinda things, aren't you?" she spits, and an angry expression takes over her face. "Emotion is everything. Emotion keeps me going, keeps us going. Love is pure, but so is hate. Fuck you."

Her face is round and glows under the blazing light; I'm sure if I could feel a single thing I would feel something for the woman sat before me.

I wait until I've risen from my seat to speak again. Her gaze follows me tiredly. I straighten out my suit before clasping my hands behind my back.

"You'll stay here until someone comes and collects you. I imagine they won't take you for incineration today, and if not, I'm sure I'll be seeing you sometime in the near future."

Even as I'm walking towards the door - the fan still humming above me - I can feel the woman's gaze on the back of head and I'm more than aware it's full of hate and despise for me, maybe even a hint of disgust.