Beth:
"Wait a fucking second, so you're going to stop going to public college and you're going to become Justin Bieber's personal assistant? Wow, when the hell did these things actually turn so insane?"
And while Lana was over there looking amused, impressed and curious, I was over here thanking God that our booth wasn't the open kind that held no air-conditioner—in fact, it was a small room in the middle of nowhere with rather cooling air-conditioner, and the door was locked so it's only just us.
"You know, Lana, it's not a very big deal," I shrugged my shoulders, "I've seen these kind of stuff happen in quite a lot of books—"
"Yeah, that usually end up with the male and female protagonists being together and having sex and all; and you know what's worse? I'm sure you already know."
"What's worse?" I dumbly questioned, slanting my head to the side.
"This situation's going to be just like those opposite attractions kind of thing."
"It's so not!" I retorted immediately, flashing her a glare. "I have never once liked him, and I probably never will—"
"Now that's something hard to say—"
"—and I don't believe in that bullshit because this opposite attraction shit is nothing but teen fiction and I'm sure he wouldn't like me either, because fat," I smiled triumphantly, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Just so you know, you're not fat, you just have way too much curves that go beyond sexy," Lana disagreed, leaning over. "I'd go lesbian for you, Beth Livey!"
There people go again, saying polite things to cover the negative ones. Oh, I've gotten so used it these days I'm not going to even bother protesting anymore.
Laughing, I scrunched my nose up at her before her lips broke out into a grin.
As I leaned back against the chair, I thought about how Ashleigh would take the news. I'd probably have her learnt about this by the time I'm in Justin Bieber's dressing room because her duty was to guard and assist in the backstage.
"Hey, I see this man coming over to our booth from the front. . ." Lana began slowly as she pushed herself up from the chair to straighten her slouched back. "Holy shit, isn't that Justin Bieber's manager?"
My eyes traveled out the window from that flabbergasted chick and stopped at the nearing figure, as she had said, Scooter.
"Shit!" I hissed, drawing a deep breath as I began darting my eyes around the top of the room, trying to find the wall clock, desperately. "Lana, what time is it?" I asked in a rush, pulling my bag up from the chair behind me; the plastic bag that held my casual clothes in my hand.
I watched as Lana carried on straining her eyes on Scooter before reluctantly dragging her gaze down to her wrist watch, "Uh, it's five minutes after ten, and I think you need to get going."
"Yeah," I let out a breath, "thanks for reminding me," I stated, making sure she turned around to face me with a familiar smirk once she sensed the sarcasm dripping off my words.
Chucking them deuces up, she flashed me a wink before yelling behind me as I scurried for the door, "Good luck, bitch—you'll need it!"
"Thanks, whore!" I yelled back, pressing my palm above the doorknob, twisting the door open. Taking the first step out, I shut the door behind me before finding Scooter just a few steps away from me.
"I see your friend saw me coming?" He chuckled, making me nod as he motioned for me to follow behind him which I did without a word. "Well, were you two supposed to stay out here the whole night, looking all stranded?"
"To sum my answer up, I shall use basically. I mean, who knows which fan would come late for the concert, right? We can't allow them to enter without a ticket, you know?"
"Then what if there was a little child that looked poor and wished to meet her idol?" He questioned, this time slowing down his pace so that we were both walking side-by-side. He turned to me just as I faced him with an obvious look.
"Clearly I'll get one of Bieber's die hard fans to sneak her in with them!" I exclaimed, not even giving it a second thought. "I know it's somewhat illegal, but she's a kid and he's her idol, there's no way I can disappoint her like that. It might make her life to just see him perform in there."
Scooter nodded understandingly. "You're a thoughtful kid."
Sending a small smile his way, I sighed, clutching the plastic bag harder in my fingers to try and prevent the tension around us becoming awkward. "So, what time does his performance end?"
"Between half to three quarter past ten, and since it's going to be a pretty long walk from here to the back of the stage, I needed bring you there sooner to get changed and ready. Speaking of ready, are you feeling anxious to meet Justin?"
"No, I'm not," I admitted truthfully, trying to hide the dullness in my tone. "Am I supposed to feel something when meeting him?"
"I'm so glad I chose the right person!" Scooter laughed out loud, making me laugh softly along because he was hilarious in a silly way. "And, yes. You know, most people can't help loving him—he's hot, talented and cute; plus, he's flirty and he knows what every girl wants."
"So I should fall for his charms?" I questioned warily, trying not to sound too off about where this conversation was leading to. "Or should I just remain mysterious or whatever I'm supposed to do?"
"I would highly recommend you to just be comfortable around him."
"I'm comfortable around everyone! Except hot guys and beyond beautiful chicks, that is," I scoffed loudly, trying to push away those thoughts. "But—"
"You do know that Justin's actually hotter than he seems to be in pictures. . . Right?" Scooter slowly asked, emphasizing on hotter, making me grit my teeth. I don't know if it's just me but is it becoming provocative yet suffocative right now?
"So I've heard," I cleared my throat awkwardly, reaching up for my neck with my hand, "and I'm not even going to bother hiding the fact that I am now very bothered by what you just told me."
Laughing, Scooter gave me a pat on the back like we've been old friends forever. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure you can fight off these emotions once you meet him—and not to be posing as a psychic but, I have a feeling in my gut that tells me your first meeting with the Biebs himself won't go too well."
"That probably means I'll hate him more than ever, so, yeah, you may be right about me fighting off my emotions. I just need a little hate for body domination," I opened the back door, leading to the back of the stage.
"I have confidence in you," he stated proudly, just as I let out a laugh. I wish I had that much confidence in me. Eyeing the toilet sign above our heads, he jerked his chin towards the bathroom, "it's already nearly ten thirty, change, get out, and be ready to carry out our plan."
So maybe Ashleigh can wait to become another one that gets told about this. . . probably very much so later.
There's no time left.
Justin:
"Thank you LA! It's been a great night, thank you all so much for coming, love you all!" I yelled into the microphone, before pulling it away from my lips, throwing up peace signs with my hands.
I felt so fucking high right this very moment, nothing could possibly ruin this. And even if they do, I'd probably behave like some stoned fuck—I can't go against the adrenaline pumping through my blood, it just feels too damn good.
Another show done perfectly, I'm glad it went well. Running down the stairs that led to the back of the stage, I caught the bottle of water that someone had thrown me from the side as I unscrewed the lid before pulling it up to my lips, downing more than half of it as I walked my way half naked to the dressing room.
Don't get me wrong, I may tend to go shirtless all the time but it's only because I'm always sweaty when I'm performing and it gets unbearably hot that I just hands down prefer performing without a top on. And apart from that, I know how dirty my fans can get, so. . .
Basically, I'm a tease, period.
As I walked past the stage, microphone and lighting producers, all of us knuckle-touched before they greeted me with a 'good job' like they always do after every show.
Nodding appreciatively at their words, I raked my fingers through my hair as my other hand gripped tightly onto the water bottle; picking up my pace, jogging into the dressing room, shoving the bottle in one of the pockets on my pants at the same time.
The rest of the crew must be at the party down—whoa, there's a sexy brunette chick sitting on the sofa awaiting my presence.
Fuck, I can already feel my dick growing in my pants.
Tugging on my pants, I pulled it away from my crotch for some space and walked towards her quietly only to find her reading one of the magazines that was sprawled across the table next to the sofa. It's kind of weird knowing still hasn't noticed my appearance right here.
"Hey," I called out, waiting for her to react—which would be rising from the seat, dropping the magazine above the spot she had risen from.
Straightening her blouse, I couldn't help allowing my eyes trailing along the curves of her body blatantly, the way they hugged her sides so fucking well and—I need to stop before my saggy pants becomes too tight at my crotch.
"Um, hi?" I think she'd sound good on bed, shit, I need a good fuck right now, I need good fuck right now! Don't get me wrong, I'm not addicted to sex; I just get aroused way too easily because my hormones won't behave themselves.
And when girls throw themselves on me, there's no way I'm ever going to say no to that.
Not bothering to even look up, my arms found themselves around her soft, curvy body and pulled her closer into me, entwining my fingers behind her back. She didn't look impressed and neither was she excited though.
But I didn't care—yeah, I was conceited like that.
"I didn't know I'd kept you waiting," I muttered lowly, trying to lure her in because I'm already on the verge of fucking someone. I couldn't wait any longer.
Giggling quietly, she pressed her palms against my bare chest, making me purse my lips in as I breathed in her scent; fucking strawberries, flowers and rainbows. God, I just need to do it right now, so badly.
"You're so hot," she whispered in my ear, making me tighten my grip on her hips. "But I'm not fucking interested in you, so back off."
That took me so off guard that she managed to push me away with one light shove. Did she just say that or am I having hearing problems after a loud night? No, she definitely said that. Pulling out the bottle of water from my pants, I threw it on the sofa and crossed my arms over my chest; a smirk finding its way up my lips.
This girl could actually resist my charms—and as much as I don't go for shit like that, something about her sparks an interest inside me. It's been probably a year and a half since I last met one who managed to hate me like this one standing in front of me.
Forgot her name, don't know where she is and I don't really care. I think I chased her away by breaking her heart because she witnessed me cheating behind her back, but meh, whatever. I couldn't give a lesser fuck about that.
"Who are you, and why are you here? Are you some," I paused, wrecking my brain to think of that word. "Journalist, or interviewer or some shit?"
"No," she heaved a sigh, dusting her clothes one last time before her dull chocolate brown eyes met my caramel ones. "I've been asked to be your personal assistant or whatever the hell it's called until you change your ways."
"Change my ways?" I raised an eyebrow, breaking out snickering. "Oh, okay. So now that makes you"—mine—"my personal assistant?"
"I don't know? Ask Scooter, he was the one who came up with this deal," she chewed on her lower lip for one second before pushing her hair behind her back, making me ground my teeth at the dirty thoughts running through my mind at the moment.
There's so many things I can do to her and I never hold back whenever this happens to me, but. . . She's different, I might want to have some fun with her.
"So what happens if I change my ways?" That's never going to happen. Mentally chuckling humorously, I carried on keeping my strenuous gaze on hers until she broke it off, probably feeling uncomfortable, only making my smirk grow.
Justin 1 - 0 Brunette
"Then I'll leave, obviously," she nonchalantly announced, making my eyebrows furrow. And I'm taken aback slightly once again.
Fuck 1, it's back to 0.
"Okay, then." I'm taking a long time to have you by my side all the time. "And what's your name?"
"Beth," she said in a matter of fact, a sudden boost of confidence seeming to have been pumped inside of her. I like. "Beth Livey, nice meeting you, Justin Bieber."
I held out my hand before her; my gaze strengthening on hers, and smirk stretching all the way as she returned my moves smartly, clutching my hand firmly with hers.
"Good luck accomplishing this deal, Beth."