Mrs. Bieber [Zustin Mieber FF] English Version

Part 4

"Zayn! Zayn!" whispered an annoying voice with a Canadian accent and the pounding in my head increased so quickly that you would have thought that a nuclear bomb had landed next to me or something.

I felt so drained that I would have liked nothing more than to turn over and fall back into a deep sleep.

I would have fallen asleep again but noooo...

"ZAYN, GET YOUR ASS UP!" he yelled next to my ear and his hot breath on my neck made me shiver.

I sat up and felt as light as a mummy, but immediately I put my head on my hands. My head was pounding like crazy and it hurt like hell. I groaned softly in pain and pressed my hands to my temples. That screaming had almost killed me. And the light coming in through the large window didn't make it any better. With my eyes closed in pain, I felt the light burning black dots into my retina.

I felt overwhelmed and didn't want to move. Dude, how hungover was I?

"What the hell, Justin! Can't you let a guy sleep off his hangover?" I hissed at the annoying idiot.

Justin didn't answer, so I opened my eyes to look at him and maybe throw something at him, but saw that I wasn't in my hotel room. And that was the only thing that interested me right now. It didn't matter if Justin would yell at me any more.

This room wasn't just any room, it was a suite! It had pretty expensive furniture and a flat screen TV. The doors that apparently led to the kitchen and living room looked like they belonged to a castle. The bed I was lying in with rumpled sheets also looked like it was made for some kings and the white curtains on the windows were wide open so the light could shine brightly in.

Where the hell were we? And why was Justin here anyway?

"Justin?" I asked in a whisper because I didn't want to make any noise.

"Here," he spat and I felt a small object fly to my forehead and I groaned, closing my eyes. The pain in my head was really killing me.

I opened my eyes to see the small medicine bottle that had just been thrown at my head. I read the label. Aspirin. Perfect antidote for this damn headache.

"Thanks, idiot," I shot back as I massaged my temples. "Can you get me some water?" I asked.

"Can't you swallow them with your spit? Or are you too lazy to even do that? I'm not your slave." he replied, frowning. He must be feeling just as shitty as I was.

"I'm sure there weren't even white slaves, stupid," I snapped. I just couldn't help myself. When I was hungover, I was like a pubescent girl on her period.

He didn't answer, he just kept looking out the window. He had put his hand over his eyes to block out the bright light. I noticed that he was only wearing his jeans from yesterday, his dark underwear peeking out a few inches and his arm tattoos really stood out. His hair was also still wet, as if he had just showered.

Any girl would give anything to see him like that.

"I know where we are," he murmured quietly, but loud enough for me to hear.

"Are you going to tell me or what?" I asked. It was frustrating with him. "Are the boys here?" I asked, automatically expecting to see Niall or Harry out in the hallway or on the couch. But I somehow felt like we were alone here. Just the two of us.

Again he didn't answer, he just waved his hand at me to come over to him. I narrowed my eyes. I was annoyed. Why couldn't he just tell me? Why did I even have to wake up already?

The window seemed like it was over a mile away when in reality it was probably just a few steps away. But when you're hungover, everything seems longer, harder and more impossible.

I looked away and quickly looked down at myself. I saw that I was only wearing my gym boxers. That was normal, actually. I always sleep in boxers.

I walk over to the window, my body aching and my lower back throbbing. What the hell happened last night? What did I do?

I took one step at a time, man, what the hell did I drink yesterday!? Ten bottles of vodka? Shit, at least that's how I feel. My movements were incredibly slow, but Justin didn't say a word, he just continued to stare out the window, lost in thought, the sun illuminating his striking face.

I couldn't remember a single sh*t. It's like it didn't happen yesterday! Like everything was a blur.

I remembered the TCA's, we won our awards, I hosted with Justin, and we performed in front of Justin.

And that's all I remembered. Nothing less, nothing more.

Eventually I made it to the window and I noticed that the suite also had a balcony. Damn, this hotel had to cost thousands of dollars a night!

The sun was shining brighter and I groaned. I really should take these pills.

But as my eyes adjusted to the light, I looked out the huge window, with a silent Justin next to me. I groaned inwardly as I realized where we were and what was outside the window.

Just beyond the glass was where you never want to wake up after a hangover. It was Sin City.

Outside the window was my worst nightmare...

It was the Las Vegas Strip.

--

"Okay, everything that happened here stays here. In Las Vegas. Got it, British boy?" he growled at me as we boarded the plane to LA.

"Your best idea yet," I muttered to him as my headache began to subside a little.

After the initial shock, we realized that we had actually flown to Vegas on Justin's private jet - around 1am.

We were staying at Ceaser's Palace, one of the most visited hotels on the Strip, the hotel where Celine Dion did her world famous show.

The room, or rather the suite, had cost over two grand for the night and since I was a gentleman, I had offered to pay half.

Justin didn't want to argue with me, so we split the bill.

But at that time, they didn't tell us what the room service cost, which was over five hundred dollars.

Most of the things we ordered were fast food, alcohol, champagne, cake and ice cream. Also, we had apparently ordered Thanksgiving dinner! I couldn't remember the food at all!

But I puked it all out, and it wasn't just water and it stank of alcohol and had bits of food in it. Ugh.

And that wasn't all! They wanted us to pay an extra hundred dollars because we were apparently being such a nuisance!

Ha!

Next time, remind me I'm never going back to that hotel! They had officially lost my respect and the guys'!

Justin didn't really care though, he just put his card on the annoying receptionist's counter and scrawled his signature on the bill in a sullen tone. Then he stormed out.

We had barely spoken that morning, mostly because of the remnants of our horrible hangover that still hadn't quite worn off. I never thought Justin could be so quiet. But I would keep it to myself.

In fact, that was the first time he'd spoken to me since we'd paid the damn hotel bill.

We took a taxi to McCarren International Airport, the only airport in Las Vegas. We barely spoke and Justin looked out the window, reserved, from under his black hood.

I tried not to draw attention to myself and kept my head down as I walked, because I didn't really want to be photographed with Justin. The rumor mill would boil over. I'd like to avoid that kind of publicity.

"The jet is here, Malik." Justin muttered as he looked out the window at the runway. A sleek black jet was landing. I just rolled my eyes at that.

The bastard had his own fucking jet!

But I wasn't going to complain, I had to get back to LA, pronto!

I was going to have to listen to a lot there, especially from Liam, I shuddered. I don't think I could handle the scolding from Daddy Direction very well in my condition.

"All right," I replied and followed him to the terminal where they would let us out and onto the sleek jet.

The humid, hot air here in Las Vegas was about to kill me, since I was wearing a leather jacket that I wasn't going to take off. I could feel the beads of sweat on my neck and forehead, but right now I didn't care. I just wanted to get out of here.

The flight attendant greeted Justin with a friendly smile and a nod, and Justin waved while flashing her his million dollar smile. I glared at him. He had been looking at me with hostility and annoyance since we woke up, but he could smile at these cheap sluts, right?

But, to be honest, I wasn't any better.

"Hello, Mr. Bieber's guest. If you need anything, let us know! The flight shouldn't take more than 45 minutes," a man informed me with a wide, friendly grin.

I nodded and thanked him.

Thank God, I wouldn't be able to handle a six-hour flight. Especially not with him.

I walked up the steps and saw eight seats inside the black jet. Justin was already lounging on one of the middle seats, his feet propped up on the seat in front of him. He was scrolling through his phone, probably Twitter or Instagram.

"Last night never happened, I don't want anyone to know we were in Vegas together!" I snapped, somehow fearing that Justin was about to upload a selfie of himself here and now.

He looked up and grinned. "All right, let's do it your way," he said and continued scrolling through his iPhone 5.

I was a little scared to look at my phone, who knows how many missed calls, texts or voicemails there were.

I don't feel like dealing with the boys right now.

"I'm going to get some sleep, Malik, wake me up when we get there." Justin said, then laid across three seats. In less than two seconds, he was apparently asleep too.

I briefly considered doing the same but decided against it. I would get enough sleep that night on the flight to the next arena.

--

We landed and I unbuckled my seatbelt. I couldn't help but slowly began to admire him. Him. Justin. He looked pretty peaceful for someone who had just had the biggest hangover in the world. His lips were curled and his chest was heaving. I decided to give him an unpleasant awakening anyway.

I knew that you could adjust the seats on an airplane however you wanted, just like in cars, and an idea came to me. My lips curled into a grin and I had to bite my tongue to keep from giggling.

I looked for the switch and I almost squealed when I found it.

The time for revenge has come, Bieber.

Justin, who was now somehow crouched on a seat, his sunglasses slipping over his face - which looked pretty funny by the way and I later cursed myself for not having taken a photo - didn't notice when I pulled the lever and the seat jumped back. When I pushed the lever in the other direction, Justin, who wasn't wearing a seatbelt, was thrown forward and landed on the floor. I just stood there and laughed at him. I

was about to piss myself laughing when he looked sleepily and disoriented through the gap between the seats.

I hit my knees and almost cried with laughter, by now I was even kneeling next to him because I couldn't hold myself back any longer.

"What the hell, asshole?!" he yelled.

"Do you need aspirin?" I teased, still chuckling, and grinned maliciously as I pushed the small bottle of medication towards him.

He pulled a face and then burst out laughing, I probably had the same stupid look on my face that morning as he did now and he just remembered it. He rolled around on the floor laughing and shook himself with laughter as our shared laughter faded away on the plane.

It was actually quite nice that for once we weren't fighting for dominance or ignoring each other. We were just having fun together. We had a carefree, joyful and relaxed moment together.

When we calmed down I said, "We've landed."

The smile slipped from his face, he nodded and adjusted his sunglasses and snapback. He jumped to the door and as I followed him I saw a car waiting downstairs.

"Want a ride?" he asked, stepping out into the pleasant warm Los Angeles sunlight.

I bit my lip and nodded.

"Heidi is with the guys, right?" he asked.

My eyes widened. "I should probably call her."

"That's not necessary, Heidi texted me. She's with the guys," he dismissed my suggestion and pointed to the car to show me to get in.

He opened the door, waiting for me to get in.

Hmm... a gentlemanly move. He probably wanted to make up for me paying half of the outrageously high hotel bill.

He slid into the seat next to me and slammed the car door.

"To the Hilton Hotel, Melrose, Jeff." Justin ordered his driver, who had lowered the bulkhead.

"Whatever you say, Jus." the driver nodded and started the engine.

I was surprised at how unprofessional their relationship was, how casual and relaxed they were. Our coworkers were so petrified and treated us so forcedly, but that was probably because of our strict management. (#Management XD)

The car ride was mostly silent, most of the time Justin just listened to his iPod.

I tapped him on the shoulder. Boredom and curiosity always brought out the 'best' in me. He looked at me questioningly and took out one of the headphones.

"What are you listening to?" I asked him.

"Holy Grail by Jay Z and JT." he replied with a smile.

"Holy shit, you like Jay Z?" I asked him in disbelief. I was sure my eyes were about to pop out of my head.

He giggled.

"I may be white but I also like rap. I think Kanye is one of my favorites."

My eyes widened. He liked Kanye too?! I could never really listen to him though because when the guys were around we always listened to alternative rock or mainstream music. That's fine! But I also like R&B, hip hop or some kind of rap.

"Have you heard his new single Blood On The Leaves?" I asked him excitedly.

"Yeah, the song is cool, right? I heard it at the VMA's."

My eyes widened even wider and I couldn't help but squeal like a fangirl.

"Really?!"

Justin laughed and I had to admit that his laugh was really contagious. I still couldn't stand him.

We had some things in common - so what?

"Yeah, but that's just a rumor. I wouldn't put my hand in the fire for that." he joked a little, shrugged his shoulders and held out one of his headphones to me.

I shook my head. "No thanks," I muttered and looked out the window.

He shrugged his shoulders again and then pulled the headphones out of the iPod so that the sound rang out loudly in the car.

"Now I got tattoos on my body psycho bitches in my lobby." he rapped and without really meaning to, I rapped the next line. "

I got haters in the paper, photo shoots with paparazzi!"

"Can't even take my own daughter for a walk, see 'Em at the corner store." we rapped together and then laughed as the music continued to play in the car and we turned onto the freeway, down the street towards Melrose.

Maybe Justin wasn't as bad as I always thought.

Oh man, who was I kidding? He was still bugging me.

"We're here," he said, turning off the music before jumping out of the car, which was still running, by the way.

God, he's such an idiot.

"You almost killed yourself," I stated, rolling my eyes. "But don't worry, at least the world would have been a better place," I blurted out.

He looked at me and narrowed his eyes. "So you support suicide? Don't you know how fucking awful self-harm is? Do you know how high the youth suicide rate is right now?" he spat.

Surprised by his rather violent reaction, I eyed him up. It was only a joke, man.

"That's exactly what I don't like about you! Making a joke about a serious subject, you fucking bastard!" he hissed as if he had read my mind and stormed off to the hotel.

My jaw was just on the floor uselessly. Who would know he was so serious about it?

"Hey, Bieber! It was really just a joke, okay?" I yelled at him and ran after him.

"It. Is. Not. A. Fucking. Joke." he yelled at me.

I flinched at his tone, he was really pissed.

"Someone who doesn't understand a joke," I trilled ironically, trying to save the situation a little as the elevator doors opened automatically.

He went in and pushed me away.

"Think of it as a joke." and he pressed the close button, leaving me staring after him in disbelief.

--

Justin

That arrogant son of a bitch!

Doesn't he realize how serious the issue of suicide is to me? Or does he not want to realize it?

Doesn't he get constant hate? Don't people ever tell him to kill himself?

No. Apparently no one ever told him that.

Because either he doesn't know or he doesn't care.

I couldn't help but giggle when I left him standing down in the lobby. I showed him!

When I got to the sixth floor, the elevator door made that typical noise and opened. And then suddenly there was Zayn. He was breathing so heavily it was like he had just run a marathon.

"What the hell?" I asked.

"There's an elevator on the other side of the hotel," he said sarcastically.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head and wanted to ask but the guy wasn't worth it.

--

Zayn

I had lied - of course - there was only one hotel elevator, but I wasn't going to tell him. I wanted to make him feel stupid for leaving me standing down there.

And I had to run up six damn floors!

That bastard!

We both ran to Liam's room because Heidi was most likely there. Justin was only here to drop me off and pick up Heidi. He walked quickly to the door and I'm telling you, the guy is really fast. He was almost running. I was still breathing heavily when Justin banged on the door of the room, roughly and rather recklessly I might add.

Liam opened the door, he looked pretty agitated and confused, but I don't blame him. I mean, just look at Justin's expression. Maybe I shouldn't have provoked him so much...

"Where the hell were you?" he asked demandingly, staring at me.

"Some hotel in downtown LA, we don't really remember much." Justin answered for me. "But yeah... where's Heidi?" he asked before Liam could reply.

Liam opened the door all the way and his cheeks glowed red.

"Inside."

Justin nodded and just walked in while we followed him.

The room was tidy as always, with just a few clothes lying here and there on the floor.

"Bitch, get up!" Justin shouted and I heard moaning and cursing. When I looked in the direction of the noise I saw something I didn't really expect.

Justin was having a tug of war with Heidi. Both were tugging on a white blanket.

"Justin, stop! You asshole!" she screamed, moaned and stopped tugging. She shook off the sheet that was spread over her. She was wearing only her underwear and one of Liam's longer shirts. Not at all embarrassed, she stood up and glared at Justin.

"We have to go! Rufus will give us a hard time if we don't come. And soon!" Justin shouted back.

He started to pick up her clothes and threw them at her. Heidi let out a cry of protest as the clothes were thrown in her face and she wanted to scream a little too, but Justin interrupted her.

"If you don't want me to throw that damn shoe in your face, you move your ass now, young lady!" Justin threatened and Heidi glared at him angrily.

"Don't you dare, asshole, besides, you're probably so hungover right now that you can't even aim!" she shot back.

Justin raised his eyebrows and seemed a little insulted, but he accepted her challenge. He raised his arm and actually threw the shoe at her. The shoe hit her stomach and she groaned.

"Hmpff...ugh, fuck you!" was all she could manage.

Justin burst into a brazen laugh and she glared at him with a really fierce death stare. Liam just giggled to himself, but I didn't miss the way he looked at her thoughtfully, standing there wearing only his shirt.

You could tell from his body language that they really hadn't done much more than sleep last night. And that he regretted it.

A battle cry tore me out of my thoughts as Heidi jumped up and ran towards Justin, who was still laughing. She jumped off the bed and threw herself on Justin's back, he staggered and fell to the floor with Heidi, where they then engaged in a wrestling match.

Liam gritted his teeth, clearly trying not to show that he would really like to be in Justin's place right now, but I only noticed this out of the corner of my eye. His gaze had this possessive sparkle, with a a little jealousy mixed in.

"GET OFF ME YOU BITCH! YOU'RE SITTING ON MY SPINE, IT'S DAMN PAINFUL!" Heidi screamed as Justin sat on her back with a malicious grin.

"If you give up and just get ready? Jeff will drive us to breakfast." Justin said to the struggling and cursing Heidi beneath him.

She immediately stopped moving.

"Then I'll see Beck soon?!" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll make sure he's there too." Justin said with a smile.

Who the hell is Beck?

But apparently he was important to her because when Justin got off her, she immediately grabbed her clothes and ran to the bathroom.

Justin shook his head and laughed.

"All right, I think I should go. Tell Heidi I'm down in the lobby."

Liam stopped him. "You're not going to wait for her?"

He was old-fashioned and didn't believe in treating women the way Justin treated Heidi; after all, he had good manners.

Justin chuckled.

"I'M NOT GOING TO WAIT FOR THAT GOAT!" Justin yelled, making sure Heidi heard him.

Heidi, however, came out of the bathroom, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail and wearing her clothes from last night, except for her high heels.

"You don't have to, I'm already here," she told him smugly and turned to us to wave goodbye.

"See you! Bye Payner, bye Zayn!" she said with a smile and went to the door.

"See you whenever," Justin said, following the girl in the white dress and carefully closing the door behind him.

"I don't have a chance, do I?" Liam sighed. "And who the hell is Beck?" he added quietly.

"Give it time. You've only known each other since yesterday," I said, chuckling, but I felt a little sorry for him.

"But I really like her!" he sighed again. "She seemed to have a huge crush on me yesterday..."

"Do you at least have her number?" I asked him, hoping to cheer him up.

He nodded and a grin played around the corners of his mouth.

"Then everything's fine! See? Maybe you have to try a little harder for her, like with other girls, but don't give up on me!" I tried to encourage him further.

"Okay, I'll call her later. We have to catch a plane after all! Off to Dallas, Texas!"

I agreed with a chuckle, but then I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the display. I didn't recognize the number and there was no name on it. I considered whether I should answer it or not, but then the voicemail went off. I left it at that and assumed it was nothing important.

I went to my room and sighed with relief. The guys would never know that I woke up in a fucking expensive suite in Las Vegas with Justin Bieber, they would always assume we were in LA hungover.

As I opened my suitcase and stuffed all my stuff in it, my phone started ringing again.

I might as well answer it now, because the person probably wouldn't leave it at two calls and keep trying.

I unlocked my iPhone and pressed the green button to answer the call.

"Hello, who is it?" I asked, trying to be friendly, but still sounding a little annoyed, after all, it was a total stranger calling me.

"Um, hello! This is Meredith Morgan from The Little Chapel in Las Vegas and I'm just calling to ask where I should send the marriage certificate. Since you and your... er, partner didn't leave a current address."

"Excuse me, but you must have called the wrong number, I'm not married." I answered her. This woman was probably still drunk from last night or something.

The line was silent for a few seconds and all you could hear was the rustling of paper.

"You are Zayn Javad Malik, right?"

I hesitated. "Yes, I am."

"Then there is no mistake, sir, you got married last night." she answered matter-of-factly.

My heart stopped.

"There must be a mistake! I don't have a wedding ring on or anything! There must be a misunderstanding!" I argued, but could no longer hide my curiosity.

"Who am I supposed to be married to? Please don't tell me it's a stripper!" I begged, my heart jumping with concern.

She giggled. "No sir, that's the first gay marriage certificate I've ever seen in my life! But now that the law has been repealed, I think I'll be seeing more of it..."

"Excuse me?" I interrupted. "Did you just say GAY marriage?" I choked out, incredulous and angry. I had to hold back hysterical laughter. This HAD to be a joke!

"Yes, why, Mr. Malik? Or should I say Mr. Bieber." she giggled and my heart froze.

"What did you just say?" I whispered, wanting to make sure I had really heard correctly.

And her answer was probably the one that exceeded my greatest fears.

"Congratulations, darling, you are now married to Justin Bieber."