~ Prologue ~

[ Justin’s POV: ]

“Fucking gay ass singer!”

“Go back to Canada and rot, you fucking retard.”

I slammed the doors of the hotel room as many other sentences like those entered my mind. It’s all I’ve been hearing for just about 3 days straight, where I’ve been doing concerts here at England. I’ve always hated paparazzi. Always have, always will. I don’t think there’s anything— or anyone— who could ever change that.

I snatched my winter hat from where it rested firmly around my head (as it had been snowing) and threw it violently on the floor. I stomped my feet several times and kicked the hat as hard as I could, and it ended up flying across the room to who the hell knows where.

I grumpily stumbled down across the hallway and stopped in a small framed mirror. I stared back at my reflection, unhappy about who my eyes were locked on. My cheeks were tainted red from the cold weather and my hair was a mess considering I ruined it when I had taken off my hat.

I simply just stared at the image on the mirror. It was supposed to be me. That’s the person I should be seeing. But it didn’t feel like it was me. It was a stranger. It was a monster.

I know my fans are defending me in every conflict I encounter with paparazzi. But this little game we’re playing, it’s been going on for months now and I’m sick of it. If I were allowed, I’d personally purchase a nice old gun and shoot it right through each and every single paparazzo.

“Justin!” a man’s voice shouted from outside the hotel. I blinked a couple of times and took small steps until I reached the window, in which I pressed my nose against. My eyes scanned the large crowd that was gathered outside my hotel. There were men chanting hateful things everywhere and they all noticed me staring back at them. That’s when they all yelled insults over each other, some of them clapping at what others would say.

“You can’t sing!”

“Poor white ass motherfucker..”

“Ey Justin, you were a fucking mistake.“

“Go to hell, you faggot!”

I closed my eyes and turned my back against the window, feeling my breathing patterns pick up. I rubbed my eyes and instantly felt my face getting wet.

Tears? I’m shedding tears over these heartless nobodies? Maybe it’s because I’m finally starting to believe them. I’m finally beginning to see that I’m just worthless and that nobody wants me anymore. All my fans would get tired of me anyway, wouldn’t they?

I don’t want this life anymore. I can’t live like this.

“Stop.”

My eyes shot open and I immediately noticed Scooter standing in front of me.

“S-stop what?” I sobbed, my voice shaking slightly.

“I know you’re having negative thoughts right now, kid. You can’t enjoy life if all you’re thinking about is how much you hate the situation you’re in,” he explained, patting my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t let them get to you.”

“-I’m not!” I snapped, smacking his hand away. Scooter’s face fell and he looked at me in shock.

“Why are you suddenly so angry?”

“Because I fucking hate my life, okay? That’s why,” I growled.

“No you don’t, Justin. Don’t say that.”

“I’m allowed to say what’s true, Scooter,” I mumbled.

“You don’t hate your life, you just hate paparazzi. I get that. It’s completely understandable. But think of your fans, what do you presume they think?”

At first, I didn’t answer him. A million thoughts ran through my head and, looking at Scooter straight in the eyes, I said the first thing that popped to my head.

“I’m beginning to think that maybe… Maybe it’s not worth it…” I said quietly.

“What’s not worth it?” he asked. I could already hear it in his voice that he knew exactly what I was talking about. He was just afraid he heard me correctly.

“The fame. The money. The girls. They’ll drive you crazy,” I answered, feeling as if I keep repeating myself whenever I say that. No wonder those words are somewhere in my song Yellow Raincoat.

“You know you don’t mean that,” Scooter said, rather strictly.

“Alright. Maybe not my fans because obviously they’re not the problem. But damn it, Scooter, I don’t want to deal with this anymore,” I sighed, collapsing on the nearest chair I could find.

“They’re just trying to bring you down, Justin. Don’t give them what they want!”

“But how long are they going to keep this up? I’m sick of it! My fans are sick of it also. Why can’t they all just stop?!” I yelled.

The room fell silent and the only thing I could hear was the clock that gave off constant ticking. Scooter was staring at me, his mouth shut as he was in deep thought about something.

“When are we leaving?” I said, a bit more calmly this time. Anything to change the subject.

“Tomorrow. Pack your bags, alright? Next stop is California and we’re giving you a little break there,” he spoke unusually quiet.

“Finally…” I muttered, standing up from the chair, “A break from those jerks.”

Without another word, I left Scooter standing there and went into the kitchen. Angrily, I popped open the fridge and took out one out of the many bottles of beer that were inside. I heard Scooter’s footsteps follow after me as I tried to get the cap to open.

“Justin!” he yelled, running over to me and pushing me away from the bottle. “What the fuck are you thinking?!”

“I’m thinking I need something to take my mind off of all this!” I yelled back.

“Alcohol is not the answer! And it never will be, do you understand me?” he said strictly, looking back at the fridge to see if I had any other bottles stored in there which, of course, I obviously did.

He muttered a couple of curse words while confiscating every single last bottle in there. I got tired of watching him take all the bottles away and decided to leave the kitchen, or better yet, the entire hotel room. I felt like I needed some air. Maybe even a break before the actual break.

I was stomping down the hotel’s hallway, not giving a shit where I was going before I bumped into someone, instantly hearing the sound of a female scream while her body hit the hard ground below us along with something else crashing.

“Crap!” I muttered, looking down at the person who turned out to be a girl that looked around my age. “I’m so sorry,” I apologized, offering my hand for her to take. That’s when I noticed the smell of coffee running up my nose and how wet her clothes appeared. I scanned the floor next to her and noticed there was a broken cup of coffee shattered across the ground followed by the liquid and her arm, that was bleeding a little bit.

Great.

“It’s okay,” she said, tears forming in her eyes from the cut.

“Oh my god.. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I should’ve seen where I was going,” I started ranting on and on about how this was my fault and how sorry I was before she stopped me.

“-No, it’s my fault. I should’ve seen you were coming in my direction. Plus, I’m really clumsy anyway,” she shrugged it off, taking my hand as I helped her stand up.

“I spilled your coffee all over you. Isn’t it hot?” I asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” she laughed, “It burns… a lot.”

I stared at the girl in front of me in awe. Isn’t she in any pain? I can see tears in her eyes but she wasn’t exactly crying. I looked intently at her and that’s when I noticed her amazingly gorgeous eyes. They were a striking emerald green, one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her dark, mysterious black hair was stunning, even if the bottom was soaking with coffee.

As I admired her and her features, I could feel her admiring mine as well. Which, of course, resulted in her screaming.

“Oh.. my… God! Aren’t you Justin Bieber?!” she squealed, then immediately calmed herself. “Sorry, sorry, I don’t usually freak out like this, but… you’re like my idol,” she explained.

“Really?” I smiled lightly. For the first time in a long while, I could feel my true smile coming out.

“I love you and your work so much. It had helped me get through tough times and I can’t believe I’m thanking you in person for all this,” she was smiling so wide I was starting to get a little worried it was hurting her. But oh well, she looked happy enough.

“Thank you, umm… I’m sorry, what’s your name?” I asked.

“Jacquelyn, but everyone calls me Jackie,” she smiled.

“Oh, nice to meet you Jackie,” I grinned, leaning in for a hug, but she stopped me.

“Wait a sec, I don’t want you to get yourself covered in coffee now,” she said, emphasizing her soaking wet clothes.

“I don’t care,” I smiled, pulling her in close to my body and embracing her in a warm hug. I could feel the coffee seeping into parts of my shirt, but when her arms finally wrapped around me as she hugged me back, I realized I didn’t care.

The point is… this fan right here was able to make me smile the minute she met me.

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So what do you think guys?

And don’t worry, this story will get a lot better but this is only the beginning :)