Mrs. Bieber [Zustin Mieber FF] English Version

Part 70

Narrator

Justin Bieber is returning to the stage! The nineteen-year-old pop star has fully recovered and it looks like he hasn't missed a thing! It's like no time has passed for our Biebs! His first show is on March 3rd at the Staples Center in Los Angeles and it is said to be one of the best of his entire career! As a reminder, it was a tragedy that he was involved in a car accident on the night of his premiere but with the help of his Beliebers, friends and loved ones he quickly managed to get back on his feet and is now celebrating his comeback on stage! When we asked him if he would be continuing with his normal tour schedule, the Heartbreaker artist replied, and I quote, "I'm glad I can get back on stage soon. That's where I belong, that's where I feel complete and I can't wait to keep touring. I've missed it."

"Holy shit," Niall muttered, quickly looking over his shoulder to make sure a certain person hadn't heard the statement.

"Niall! Turn that shit off!" Liam told him, warning him of the risk that Zayn would come in at any second. That would start a huge argument.

Niall looked at him grumpily before reaching for the remote. "It's not my fault, every news channel is reporting on Justin's return."

Liam pursed his lips. "And that's exactly why Zayn is hiding from the media."

Niall snorted and then pressed the plus button, zipped through the channels and settled on a station that was streaming a film. "What should we do, Liam?" he asked, turning the volume down. "We can't hide these things from him forever."

Liam rubbed his forehead in frustration. "We have to at least try, he's not exactly jumping for joy when he has to keep hearing about him."

"When does he ever jump for joy? Liam, he hasn't smiled in years. Have you seen how badly the smiles are faked in the photo shoots and interviews?"

Liam laughed quietly. "Of course I noticed, Niall, but what are we supposed to do?"

Niall threw his arms in the air. "We can't keep protecting him from this shit, Liam. We can't shield him from the world. He was in a romantic relationship with an international pop star! There's no hiding from that!"

Liam bit his lip. "I know, but I'd rather hide him from the outside world than have to deal with a moody and fucking mentally disturbed Zayn, right Niall?"

Niall cracked his neck before looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I understand what you're saying, but I'm not going to treat him like a baby just because he decided to break up with Justin and now misses him."

Liam's eyebrows furrowed. "How do you know he misses him? Did he say anything to you?" Zayn had never told them anything about what had happened in the hospital room. If they had thought he was isolating himself earlier, they were so, so wrong.

Niall shook his head. "I hear him at night, Liam. He calls out to him in his sleep. He dreams about him, Li. I hate seeing him suffer like this, you know?" He ran his hand through his tangled curls and tried to calm himself down.

Liam sighed deeply. "He has only himself to thank for that. He didn't have to break up with the guy shortly after he woke up; he could have damn well shown that he was a man and shown his feelings. He gets no sympathy from me, Niall."

"You're only biased because you have a girlfriend who tells you all that shit."

Liam glared at him warningly. "I may have a girlfriend who thinks that and tells me so directly, but that doesn't mean I can't think for myself."

"Sorry," Niall said a little contritely and threw his head back into the armrest of the couch. "Justin will be going on tour again soon and we'll be hearing more of this kind of thing."

"How is he?" Liam asked honestly, his voice softer and more concerned.

"It's like no time has passed for him, he's making his comeback soon." Niall quoted the presenter and smiled slightly.

Liam giggled slightly. "That's nice, at least he's not wallowing in self-pity like someone we know."

Niall frowned thoughtfully. "You don't know what Justin is like behind closed doors, Liam. Maybe he's just better at hiding his pain."

The brown-eyed man nodded. "Maybe it's not right to say that, but I think Justin is much better off than Zayn."

"Are you implying that Justin is better off without Zayn?" Niall asked stiffly.

"I'm not suggesting anything, I'm just watching everything, Niall, and what my observations tell me is that Justin seems to be having the time of his life while Zayn is hiding in his room and ignoring the world." Liam clarified without hesitation. "

But the thing is, Liam, Zayn is Zayn and Justin is Justin Bieber. Justin has always been more socially active, he loves the spotlight. Zayn doesn't, Zayn doesn't like all the attention being on him." Niall countered.

"Yeah, Zayn is very conservative but he's also bloody bipolar, especially when a Justin Bieber song comes on the radio!" Liam contradicted.

Niall shook his head and rubbed his hands together before tucking them between his knees. "And what the hell was that with that A1 sauce the other day? I swear Zayn almost broke the bottle after he poured it all over his burger."

Liam chuckled again, but cleared his throat when he saw Niall reacting a bit more cautiously to the scene that had taken place yesterday in one of the restaurants in downtown Chicago. "To be honest, I have no idea, Niall, it really didn't make much sense, but he looked like he wanted to kill the waitress."

Niall had to laugh too, but tried to cover it up with a cough because it felt mean to his best friend. Although, it was funny to see a grown man make a scene just because his burger didn't taste right and then snap his fingers to order the waitress around to bring him the damn steak sauce.

"Isn't it weird that he suddenly needed that sauce when he's always gotten by without it?" Niall asked. Zayn had never known that sauce before, they had hardly used it, but now it seemed as if Zayn needed it to survive. It confused them all.

Liam shrugged. "To each his own, I guess. But I just don't get it. The sauce tasted spicy and tart, but Zayn looked like he was drinking it straight from the bottle only to throw it up again straight away."

Niall's lips twitched in amusement. "I don't understand that guy sometimes."

Liam threw his head back and laughed. "The man is a mystery, you never know what's going through his head."

Niall's smile suddenly faded and you could see the sadness in his eyes. "What are we going to do, Liam? Should we help him?"

"Definitely not, he has himself to thank for that. And if he felt any pain at all, it was because he decided to sign the damn divorce papers."

-*-

-One week later-

Zayn lay on the mattress, his knees tucked under his chin as he stared at the black screen in front of him. The TV wasn't on, but it wasn't like he was really looking at it, he was looking through it. His thoughts were cloudy and numb. His brain had shut itself off from the rest of his body.

He had no appetite, he didn't even have the motivation to get up and shower. His whole being, his soul included, felt lifeless. He just put on a facade, walked around, kept his head up as if he had to prove that he was okay. But when he was backstage, in his hotel room or somewhere where there were no cameras, his entire demeanor changed. His shoulders would slump, his steps would slow, his hands would go into his pockets and his head would hang like a wilted flower. He would become

more and more depressed, withdrawing more and more, from his friends and his family. His cell phone lay untouched in the drawer of his nightstand, the battery dead because he didn't want to have any contact with the outside world.

But on stage, no one would believe that he was going through such a phase. He put on a smile, a smile that almost split his face in two because there was so much pressure behind it. He almost messed up his vocals when it was his turn to sing and he would give everything he could just to show the world, or more to himself, that he was completely fine. That nothing was different with him, that his thoughts were just floating around in a jumble, that his heart wasn't heavy and that he didn't feel a weight on his shoulders that almost pushed him to the ground.

Only when he left the stage, the screaming of the fans became quieter and he handed over his microphone would everything come back. The twisting of his insides and the desire to want to smash everything around him.

Anger was what he felt. He would never shed a tear or fall into depression. At most he would grab his sports bag and beat up one of the punching bags in the gym.

He would never admit, however, that he was angry with himself. He would blame it on the stress and fame, the frustration of the guys and the hate he received. Even though these were actually only secondary factors in making him so angry. He

lost control when he heard certain songs on the radio, when he saw a certain last name attached to a username or when that last name was trending on Twitter. Then he just saw red, it drove him mad and he took it all out on the guys, or complete strangers and very rarely on a fan. He was totally psychotically unreachable and temperamental.

He also wouldn't tell anyone that he often woke up with tears on his cheeks, he would never confide that to anyone. He would just curse himself, wipe away the drops of water and take out his uncontrollable mood on others, all day long.

Slowly he lost everyone he loved, his best friend, his band members, his friends back home and he also cut off contact with his family. He was so angry and so bitter, when these people were around him he was always cold towards them and his teeth were always gritted. He had never felt so alone in his life. But that was because he behaved so stupidly, these people didn't let him down, he kept them at a distance.

He didn't deserve even the slightest bit of pity from anyone. He inflicted the pain on himself. He let his fears destroy the best thing that had ever happened to him. He gave in to the fear that his heart felt, his body told him and his mind kept making clear to him. And he took the easiest way out like a coward, even if it meant losing his joy and happiness.

Underneath it all, under his skin, under his bones, buried deep under the arrogance, complacency and temper, he was a little, scared boy. A little boy who was afraid to let anyone get close to him, to become vulnerable, to become intimate with anyone, to reveal all his fears, pain and insecurities. He didn't want to lay all his cards on the table, to expose himself to anyone. He didn't think anyone could love him for who he really was. With all his pain, his quirks and his imperfections. He didn't think he was lovable, he didn't think he could ever win anyone's heart.

But he could.

Something he still couldn't believe, something that couldn't be. Something he didn't want to acknowledge, he still denied it completely.

Because he knew that if Justin had shown romantic feelings towards him or even kissed him, he wouldn't have been able to let go. He would be chained tightly for life, because Zayn Malik didn't love just anyone, but when he did, he loved with everything he had. With his soul, his heart and his body.

However, the thing about our Zayn Malik is that if he loved you with all of his being, he wouldn't know how to show it to you. He sucked at showing how much he cared. He couldn't do it verbally, it's almost impossible for him to say those three specific, powerful words. And he has a tendency to reject those he loves. Not because he hated them, but because of that effect they had on him. They're the things closest to his heart and that scared the hell out of him. It's like a defense mechanism to keep everyone at a distance, to push them away, to put them down. Because in some twisted, sick way he believed that if they went through all that shit they were worthy of being loved by him.

The first few weeks of the new year were the hardest for him, he was struggling the whole time and he felt like his life was made of quicksand and with every step he took he sank deeper and deeper. He felt like everything was crushing him and on his birthday, he was far from happy. He couldn't finish the birthday cake and none of the presents made him smile happily. Sure, he was grateful but he didn't feel it. He just wanted to snuggle back into his blankets and go back to sleep.

The whole time, he was somehow hoping that he would show up. How dare he wait for the man who suffered so much because of him, because he was so scared.

But Zayn couldn't help it, it was almost like an instinct, it was second nature to his thoughts to think of him. And it was definitely a blessing and a curse at the same time. The thought of him just made his heart ache even more.

Zayn let out a long, tired sigh, laid his legs straight and grimaced at the cracking sound they made from being dressed for so long. He lay pitifully on the mattress, completely bored. His mind blank and his heart hollow. He had no idea what to do, he had been locked in his room for so long. He didn't know what time it was, he had no idea how long he had been sitting here in silence.

When he finally made the decision to get out of bed, slowly and miserably swinging his legs over the edge, he noticed that he was still wearing the same clothes he had worn earlier for the interview. A simple grey hoodie and a pair of black pants. When his Vans-clad feet hit the floor, he slowly stood up, grimacing at the sound of more bones cracking. But it was no wonder, he thought as he stretched, he had been curled up like Quasimodo the whole time. He took the first few steps towards the door and then pushed down the door handle.

The television in the hotel living room was on, Liam and Niall had probably forgotten to turn it off again. Zayn looked around briefly, they had probably gone out or were in their rooms, so he shrugged his shoulders and threw himself on the couch. (Why does this idiot watch TV in the living room when he has one in his stupid room too xD)

He sat down half lying down on the sofa and pressed the buttons, looked through the channels, wrinkled his nose when he didn't find anything interesting straight away.

"Is Bieber again - "

Zayn flinched, but quickly rewound to the channel he had just skipped. His heart was beating faster as he sat down.

"The Canadian pop star is currently in the custody of the Miami police. He has not yet paid his bail, his court hearing will be on March 7th in the Sweetwater County Courthouse. He was arrested for another illegal car race and driving with an invalid license. Bieber's manager, Scooter Brown, is refusing to pay his pop star's bail. When we asked him outside his Los Angeles home why, he said: "Justin has been acting up enough lately, I've given him a lot of second chances and now I think he has to pay for the decisions he's made. He got himself into trouble so he has to pay for it." Sources say they won't release the bail information nor will the pop star be allowed to receive calls until the arrest fees are paid. Justin Bieber was arrested on Friday morning and has been in the cell since then. We will keep you updated and I will now pass on to my colleague with the weather report..."

Zayn's jaw dropped to the basement of the hotel and he was completely frozen in shock. The remote control fell from his hands, his eyes were as wide as soup plates and he couldn't understand how this could happen. How the hell?!

"Zayn?" Niall pulled Zayn out of his thoughts and their eyes met.

"When the hell were you going to tell me?" Zayn asked, pointing at the TV with his thumb.

Niall's heart froze in his chest and panic began to rise within him. "You're pointing at an insurance advert, Zayn."

"You know what I mean, Niall." His voice was serious and almost cracked.

He stood up from the couch and walked threateningly towards Niall, hearing a door slam in the hallway. "Since when do you care, Zayn?!" Niall asked, crossing his arms.

Zayn furrowed his eyebrows. "And since when are you hiding all this shit from me?!"

Niall's eyes widened a little in panic, but he wasn't going to let Zayn have the upper hand here. "Ever since you started acting like an absolute bipolar asshole," he shot back.

The anger that had tried to stay hidden was now showing. "Excuse me? What did you just call me?!"

Niall took a step towards him to show that he wasn't going to give in, even though inside he was pretty much cringing at his best friend. "You heard me. We've kept all that shit away from you," he raised a hand and raised his fingers, counting. "Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, radio, magazines, TV and everything else because every time you hear his name somewhere you freak out and treat us like shit. We're only protecting ourselves!"

Zayn paused and the anger faded, giving way to emptiness and recognition. "I'm just stressed! And you guys are really annoying sometimes!" he tried to explain, but Niall just snorted and cracked his knuckles.

"And you don't think we find you annoying too with your changeable mood?! You take it out on us and it's all your fault!" Niall shouted at Zayn, trying to make him realize what he had been doing for the past few months.

Zayn opened his mouth to say something, but Liam came in, he was a bit surprised to hear Niall's raised voice, he wasn't shouting at anyone else. "What's going on here?"

Zayn had enough, he turned around and ran into his room. He threw the door open and stomped into the room, the other two followed him.

"What are you doing?" Niall wanted to know.

Zayn snorted and felt through his closet. "What do you think I'm doing?"

When he had found everything he needed, he hurried towards the door. "And where are you going now? We have a gig tomorrow!" Liam called after him as he pushed him out of the way.

Zayn looked over his shoulder. "I'll pay for the shit and get him out of there because apparently no one else will."
As Zayn tried to open the door to the hallway, he felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back and pressing him against the wall. "And what gives you the right?"

Zayn opened his mouth to answer, but Niall interrupted him. "No, I will not let you walk through that door, Zayn."

"You can't stop me!" growled Zayn, annoyed with his friend.

"You will not do this!" Niall said again.

Zayn saw the look on his best friend's face, his eyes flaming and his cheeks reddening. "Not do what? I'm just paying a fucking bail, Niall."

"Why?" asked Niall, wanting to know why Zayn was so keen to walk out that door to catch a flight to Miami.

Zayn opened his mouth.

"What are you doing, Zayn? You can't play with his feelings all the time, you can't always play Superman and save your lover from trouble when you're the damn reason he's in this situation." You have no fucking right to invade his life again if you just left him in the hospital. You can't and won't do that! You have no right to do that," Niall shouted angrily and desperately. He wanted to keep his friend away from poor Justin.

Zayn's mouth was open, his eyes burned when he saw how angry, protective and disappointed his counterpart's blue eyes looked. "I was scared, Niall. I was scared that he would hurt me, that he would reject me. You don't know what I did to him, Niall. You have no idea what I did to him before the accident. I don't fucking deserve him anyway." Zayn shook his head and was about to sink back into his self-hatred.

"Liam! Bring some violin players over, Zayn wants to have a pity party." Zayn was shocked at how bitter Niall sounded. How cynical and condescending he said it, and how much of a complete asshole he sounded.

Liam walked over to them, pretending to actually play the violin while pouting and looking at them with mock sadness. "Go on Zayn, we want to know everything."

Zayn growled, shoving Niall away and glaring angrily at his so-called best friend. "I'm serious, shit, man. I just want to get him out of there."

"We're serious too, you can't just fly to Miami and buy him out. Do you really think Justin wants to see you there Zayn? After everything you did to him? Do you think he'll be happy that you're getting him out?" Niall asked, making it clear that he was sure Justin would be anything but happy to see Zayn there.

"Why didn't Heidi get him out? Or his mother?" Zayn decided to change the subject, ignoring the pain in his heart.

Liam sighed. "Heidi can't afford it and his mother thinks pretty much the same as Scooter Braun, just not quite as harsh. She just wants her son to learn his lesson. She almost lost him once, I don't think she can go through that again without going under."

Zayn's throat tightened as he remembered Liam having to tell him on Christmas Day that he had been in an accident. "What about his other friends?"

Niall and Liam snorted in unison. "What friends? Are you talking about the low-class assholes who take advantage of him for money and alcohol? Yeah, no, they wrote him off as soon as they heard the alarm bells," Niall replied dryly.

Zayn's fists clenched and anger boiled up inside him. How could there be such nasty people who would treat such a wonderful person- "Then why are you stopping me from leaving? You two certainly won't pay for it. He doesn't deserve to be in this prison cell."

"Yes he does, he broke a law, Zayn," Niall said with a small smile.

Zayn bit his lip. "He's such an idiot," he muttered to himself, gnawing on his lower lip.

Zayn reached for the door handle. "Zayn, what are you doing?" Niall asked slowly and alarmed.

"Like I said before, I'll pay for the shit and get him out of there." and with that he opened the door.

Niall grabbed his arm again. "No, Zayn, are you crazy?!"

Zayn pulled himself out of his grasp, didn't bother to answer and slammed the door behind him before starting to run down the hall. He had to get to Miami as quickly as possible, he thought as he looked for the elevator.

-*-

Miami Dade PD, Miami Dade County, Florida, USA

11 pm

A rather distraught looking young man had his face buried in his hands. His stomach was growling, he was so damn hungry, and he was so embarrassed about the whole thing, he regretted his stupidity and hated himself for it. His eyes filled with tears as he thought about how disappointed his mother would be and his teeth gritted as he considered how angry Scooter Braun must be. He didn't even want to imagine how his Beliebers would react to the news.

He had absolutely no access to the outside world, his cell phone, keys and all other belongings that belonged to him were in the custody of the police. He couldn't buy himself out either because he didn't have a wallet with him and he was also denied access to his bank account.

He wasn't even allowed to call anyone because if he did, he would immediately reach Heidi and tell her where to find all the information and how to use it to get into his bank account.

He cursed himself, how could he be so fucking stupid? He hadn't thought, at least not logically. He had been looking for an escape, for a rush, for an adrenaline rush. He wanted to feel the excitement and happiness that came with street racing. He loved how it felt to be able to step on the accelerator and swing the steering wheel back and forth. How he could have everything under control. Until the memories of that night came back, how the lights swerved and the explosions, the fear grew and he panicked, didn't concentrate enough and slowed down. When he pulled over to escape it was already too late, the police were there and shouting orders at him. He almost collapsed, he was shaking so much.

The last few months had probably been the worst of his entire life, he had been under surveillance the whole time. Although he soon got rid of his cast, he continued to stay in the hospital often and was checked over by nurses and only a few days ago declared recovered by the doctors.

He could hardly sleep at night in the hospital, his dreams were no longer pleasant and satisfying, they were the memory of that terrible, catastrophic night. There had never been a morning when he had not woken up gasping for air and with his heart racing because he had died at the end of the dream. But these dreams were not even the worst, oh no, the dreams of Zayn, his ex-husband, were the ones that haunted him the most at night. He often had dreams of him in all his glory but sometimes he had to relive that heartbreaking moment again and again after waking up. Each time it was another stab in his already fragile heart, he could never awaken peacefully from his dreams. He slowly fell into depression and this worried his mother and Heidi, who visited him every day.

And his new addiction was to continue painting his body with the deep black ink. Until last year he had only had one arm full of tattoos, but in the last month he had started drawing on his right arm as well. And he loved every moment of the bittersweet pain, felt good when he could look at his arm afterwards and see a new shiny motif outlined in red on his skin. He was addicted to it, his whole life.

He wanted to do something that would distract him from the constant pain in his heart. He didn't want to feel so worried anymore. And that was what brought with it the bitter feeling and the huge resentment. It came slowly but the belief nestled deeper and deeper in his brain. The belief that true love only existed in Disney movies anyway.

Justin absently heard something ringing and clattering, a key being turned and a guard coming in. It was late in the evening, but he couldn't beat it; the floor at home would probably be more comfortable than the bed in this cell. So he preferred to stay awake.

"Looks like you've come to your rescue tonight, kid." The guard's deep voice sounded strange in the darkness.

Justin raised his head curiously. "Do you mean me or that guy?" he asked, pointing to the college student in the next cell, who had only been brought in a few hours ago.

"I mean you, my handsome." and then he continued to jingle the keys and search for the right key for Justin's cell.

Relief flowed through Justin and he stood up from the bench almost immediately. "Looks like you got lucky again, don't miss me too quickly and don't cause any more trouble." The man looked at him with a warning look as he turned the key in the lock.

Justin snorted as if. "Who told me the bail? My mother?"

The guard didn't answer, just opened the door and motioned for the pop star to step out, but he couldn't do it fast enough. He listened to the other inmates, he also heard the man lock the cell door behind him and then nod to show him which way to go.

He was about to turn around to ask again when he saw someone standing in the dim light. His mouth fell open and his eyes widened in shock as he clenched his fists in anger.

Their eyes met and immediately the tension built up, as Justin froze in his tracks, realizing who had really gotten him out of here. He couldn't believe his eyes and, yes, he was grateful, sure, but that didn't mean he was happy about it, not in the least.

Justin cleared his throat, his eyes hardened and he gritted his teeth. "I'd rather go back to that damn cell than have you pay my bail."