Mrs. Bieber [Zustin Mieber FF] English Version

Part 15

Zayn

Sleeping sounds good. I mean, sleeping is perfection. How could anyone not enjoy sleeping? How could anyone not wish they could sleep forever? Why would anyone want to sleep for an hour or two instead of ten?

That just came from a pretty drunk person, someone who would probably start eating off the floor just because it looks good or start dancing in public because she thinks she's Michael Jackson.

Man, those three small beers were a lot...

I staggered to my room, smiling at strangers while praying that it didn't come across as a little creepy because they would either scream or turn away.

When I stepped into my room, I didn't think twice before flopping face first onto my bed.

When my face landed on the soft pillow, I immediately snuggled into the soft mattress and sighed happily. My body felt so sluggish and weak that I didn't even try to peel off my clothes.

I knew it was still pretty early because one of the guys came in and asked me if I wanted to go out.

It was Liam.

"Oh, Zayn," he muttered and I heard him put something on my side of the bed, but I was too exhausted to realize that there was someone in my room. I could be robbed right now and I wouldn't care.

I just fell deeper into sleep. The sun was still shining on my face and I knew it was early in the evening.

Damn, getting drunk at this time of night was never a good idea.

--

It had to be sometime late in the evening when I first heard it.

Bzzzt. Bzzzzzt.

I tried to ignore it and go back to my blissful dream world. But it was no use, the vibration continued.

Bzzzt. Bzzzzzt.

I yawned and fumbled for my phone, my head pounding from last night's drinking.

My phone continued to vibrate loudly in my back pocket and I just wanted to kill the bastard who was calling me.

I sat up and pulled it out of my pocket.

"Hello?" I greeted dazedly.

"I'm waiting," his voice greeted me through the line.

"What are you waiting for?" I asked without thinking.

"The apology you announced in public that you would give me. Well, I don't have all day. I'm waiting!" he replied.

That woke me up immediately and I sat bolt upright in bed.

"You think you deserve an apology after this Twitter war? I won't apologize until I can listen to Rebecca Black without getting ear cancer and Hugh Hefner stops taking Viagra!"

"You're not any better, Mr. Indirect," he said, gritting his teeth.

"Because you started it!" I argued.

"You sound like a fucking child trying to justify hitting his sister." I could almost hear him rolling his eyes.

"I'm the childish one? Said the ranting and crying one on Twitter." I growled.

"I'm the ranting and crying one? Oh really?" he laughed humorlessly.

"Yes, you sound like an overgrown infant!" I said.

"Then why am I the only one who can keep his voice at an acceptable pitch and you start screaming like an angry fangirl?" he asked sarcastically.

I bristled. "I don't sound like a Fangril! Oh, no, I can barely hear you. The connection is bad!"

"Awww, my sweet wife can't afford a real cell phone. Do you want Mr. Bieber to buy you one, sweetheart?" he mocked.

I clutched the iPhone 4 in my hand. "You know? Maybe I really do need a new phone. It seems like this phone makes everyone sound several octaves higher, like a girl. And I can't seem to block some numbers."

"I don't sound like a girl!" Justin shouted in my ear.

I thought for a moment. "Hang on a minute, I'll show you one of the brilliant songs by this amazing little girl I discovered the other day."

"Uh, what does that have to do with anything?" he asked.

I scrolled through my iPod and smiled, thanking Niall for deleting all my music and putting his on it. The first and only time I felt gratitude for Niall's cruel act.

My finger hovered over a track and I grinned.

"I'm going to play it right now. I need your help identifying the girl... I just can't remember her name, kay Justin? You know so much about it, don't you?" I asked softly.

He cleared his throat. "I think so, yeah, I'm pretty good at identifying songs and artists."

I rolled my eyes at his arrogance, but I kept my cheerful tone.

"Then you'll probably recognize it right away. I think the first one is Sean Kingston, but the girl... I really don't know who that is..."

"Oh, my buddy Sean, I'm sure I know!"

He totally bought it. And I was happy like a little kid.

Maybe he wasn't so wrong earlier... but it was so much fun!

I grinned widely as I clicked PLAY.

Eenie meenie

Miney Mo,

Catch a bad chick by her toe.

If she holla, if she holla, let her go!

She's indecisive,

She can't decide,

She keeps in looking,

From left to right.

"You son of a bitch! This is my song! Are you trying to tell me I sound like a shitty girl? And even if I did, I'm a shrill-sounding 15-year-old girl who's made more money than your parents ever will!" he yelled at me and I burst out laughing, burying my face in the pillow to stifle my laughter. I could feel the tears of laughter on my cheeks as I continued to laugh, hitting my pillow like it was my knee.

As I calmed down I said, "Can you tell me the girl's name? Was it Justine Beaver?"

He growled. "Real maturity, Malik! Real maturity, Wifey!"

"Said the one whose balls fell off. I would hope if I were you that you could mature now. With your true identity." And I laughed again.

He groaned. "Well, you have me, Mrs. Bieber." He said.

I smiled triumphantly and felt pride well up inside me.

"But don't get used to it!" He warned.

"Aww, don't be ashamed just because I'm better than you, Sweety. And just because you didn't figure out my master plan, Mrs. Malik, doesn't make you stupid. It just means you're a little slower and have a lower IQ than me." I teased him, my teeth flashing from grinning so hard.

"I called you about one thing and one thing only," he spat.

"You won't get phone sex here. You must have dialed the wrong number," I said sarcastically.

"It's not like you can turn me on. Your accent would make any arousal disappear," he replied.

"I think I have a million girls who would disagree with you and say that accent is really sexy."

"Those girls should learn about AIDS, you sound like a wannabe Victoria Beckham. But no matter how hard you try, Wifey, you'll never get David Beckham..." he told me mockingly.

I gritted my teeth. "I don't want David Beckham! If anything, I want Victoria!"

"You would be a dream couple, you both have a stick up your ass. You can waddle around together!" he said happily and clapped his hands laughing.

"I don't have a stick up my ass!" I explained, what the hell? I'm not uptight!

"Then you just have one foot up your ass because nobody really likes you," he said, completely deviating from the topic.

"Bieber, you can kiss my ass! I'm very well liked! Just ask my 10 million followers on Twitter!" I defended myself. I still couldn't believe that there were so many, I mean 10 million followers, that's just... Holy shit! That's so much! But secretly I still wanted more...

Justin didn't answer at first and I wondered if he had hung up, was he jealous?

Then I heard his loud laughter and how he couldn't breathe from laughing. "You... only have ten... million... followers?!" he finally managed to say.

"Just? I think that's quite a lot! Most people don't get more than a thousand!" I argued.

"You're a celebrity, Zayn!" he replied.

"Oh? I didn't realize that until now, now I understand why paparazzi are following me around all the time!" I snapped my fingers as if everything suddenly made sense.

"That's pretty pathetic, Zayn," he said, giggling a little.

"What? That you called me to ask for an apology that you'll never get?!" I shot back.

"No, I deserve an apology. But what I meant is that you only have 10 million followers! I thought you had about twice that!" he explained.

"Am I supposed to take that as a compliment? Because it sounded a lot like a veiled insult," I replied.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. Speaking of which, why the hell are you yawning? It's only ten o'clock or something in Boston?" he asked.

"How do you know where I am?" I countered.

"Because you told me, remember? When you were a little annoyed, you told me where you were going to be for the next week." He replied in a bored tone.

"Oh." I mumbled. "Well, I'm tired and can't handle all the different time zones, so I slept early."

"Oh, it's nice to know that my little wifey goes to bed like an old woman at... wait, seven? Seven." He replied.

"I'm not an old woman! I was drunk!" I growled.

"Drunk? Why? Were you so upset because I made a fool of you in public? And your loyal friends retweeted it anyway?" He provoked.

I gritted my teeth. God, it was a miracle they hadn't broken off long ago...

"Since when are you following me on Twitter?" I decided to ask and not respond to the provocation.

"I follow you on Twitter? What the hell? Why the fuck would I DO THAT?!" he whispered to himself.

"Because you can't resist my Bradford bad boy charm?" I suggested, grinning.

"Kill me, I bet Heidi did that when she was on my phone yesterday. That whore..." he thought out loud.

"Why would she do that?" I asked curiously.

He cleared his throat briefly. "I don't know. Maybe she secretly likes 1D or something..."

"Wait, she doesn't like us?" I asked. Poor Liam.

"Your music? It's not really her taste. She doesn't like Taylor Swift's music and Selena's... neither." his voice broke briefly at Selena's name.

"Hey, Justin?" I asked cautiously.

He cleared his throat again. "Yeah?"

I took a deep breath, knowing I was going to hell for what I was about to say.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea you only grew up with your mother."

He gasped, apparently I had surprised him. I hadn't planned the apology, but I felt like I had to. It helped me, by the way, that I no longer felt like a complete dick.

I heard him swallow. "Well, you were probably so busy with yourself that you never noticed."

"You know I can take back that apology easily?!" I interrupted. He

giggled. "Too late, it was already in the air and I received it. But thank you, Zayn. That's one of the many apologies you still owe me.

"What do I owe you another apology for?!" I asked, stunned. That boy should go to hell!

Justin giggled to himself. "I have a feeling you're just an asshole of a husband."

My eyes widened. "Excuse me?! I'm the asshole? I apologized and then you say I'm an asshole?!"

"Dude, we're just not meant for each other. Even if we were gay, we wouldn't be able to handle each other," he explained.

I snorted. "Fuck you straight!" I muttered angrily.

Justin giggled. "Go to sleep, old woman. You don't have to develop an insomnia just because you want to talk to me."

I yawned. "You're a dick. And I'm fucking married to you."

He laughed. "You too, sweetheart. And I'm married to you too. Goodnight, wifey. Dream of me kicking your ass at the VMA's!"

"Sweet dreams of my Directioners voting your precious Beliebers out of the way." I replied as I yawned again.

Justin snorted. "Let's see if your ten million followers can top my 45 million, Mrs. Bieber." And he hung up

...

FORTY-FIVE FUCKING MILLIONS?!