Call Me A Liar [Book 1] (Justin Bieber Love Story / Fan Fiction)

21

I planned to leave right away. Truly, I did. But temptation is such a fucking bitch sometimes, and she's damn good at her purpose.

So, I stand there beside Michael with a Heineken in my hand that he so kindly shared with me from his stash in the back cleaning closet. I guess that's where most of them keep their stuff, according to him.

We're not alone while we drink, there's at least twenty others with us who stayed back to congratulate Justin on his win. They all mingle amongst each other while we wait for Justin to come back from the locker room after changing and showering.

"Doesn't he live upstairs? Why does he even bother to use the locker room?" I ask, playing dumb as if I haven't been in his apartment before.

Michael shakes his head. "He's weird. He doesn't like mixing this with his personal life, so it's as if he doesn't even live up there."

I guess it makes sense. Once you start mixing business and personal, it can get muddy. Not to mention, I'm sure he doesn't see it as all that convenient living upstairs from his place of work. If anything, he probably hates it. I think I would.

"Yo, Jake!" Michael shouts, waving over the young brunette in a red pullover sweatshirt that I briefly spoke to before.

Instinctively, I wrap my fingers around my wrist again to ensure that Justin's necklace is still there. It is.

He jogs over to us, clinking his beer bottle against Michael's.

"Who called it?" Michael points to himself boastfully. "Who called that Justin was going to win in round two?"

Who I now know as Jake rolls his eyes, looking at me. "Sorry you had to sit next to him the entire night. We'll make sure you have a better seat next time."

"Oh, it's alright," I wave my hand. "I'm just glad I had somewhere to sit. I didn't realize so many people would show."

"There's not much to do here, Jane," Michael butts in. "She's from Redlake," he whispers to Jake as if it's a secret.

"No shit," he widens his eyes. "I was going to say, I didn't recognize you. What brings you here?"

I shrug. "Justin's a friend. And he coaches my little brother, so I figured I'd come and support."

Neither of them have to say a word, I know they don't believe that Justin and I are friends for two seconds. I can feel it when they look at each other knowingly, which makes my stomach turn. Regardless, I pretend I don't see it.

Thankfully, I hear some clapping and cheering on the other side of the room that diverts their attention from me and mine from them. I crane my neck to try and see what everyone is looking at, but it's no use at first.

Before I even see him, I know it's Justin coming out of the locker room. Between the whistling and the encouraging words and Michael screaming beside me, I know it's him. And I'm quickly tensing up.

We haven't seen each other since Tuesday when I left his apartment and he told me we couldn't progress forward any more than we have. It certainly wasn't our greatest moment together, but I held onto that moment for the last couple of days because I truly longed for his presence.

There were of course those couple of phone calls in between Tuesday and now that did their job by holding me over, but I know it'll never compare to seeing him in person.

I know it for sure when I finally see him emerging from the small crowd of people.

He's practically beaming, smiling from ear to ear more genuinely than I've ever seen. It's such a drastic change from the person who was on the ring maybe a half an hour ago, looking so cold and rigid. This is the Justin I know.