Illicit Affairs │Justin Bieber

Before: And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

POV: Isabela

It's easy to fall in love with Justin Bieber. Very, very easy. I realized this the first Christmas our families spent together when I was 7 years old. He was kind, generous, and had that effortless charm that everyone gravitated toward. Even then, his smile could light up the room. Justin always moved like he belonged everywhere he went, I always felt like I was standing on the outside looking in. He made it all look so easy—being loved, being admired, being talented.

I was quiet, reserved—content to blend into the background, always observing from the edges. Justin, though, was the center of attention, a magnet that pulled everyone in effortlessly. It seemed like wherever he went, the world followed. I am one of those people. I, more than anyone, find it second nature to gravitate into his orbit.

It seemed like he belonged everywhere, while I was just... there, fading into the background. But even then, despite my attempts to blend in, he always saw me. It was as if, no matter how much I tried to stay unnoticed, Justin had this way of making me feel like I mattered. His eyes would find mine in a crowded room, or he'd ask me a question no one else cared to. I wasn't invisible to him, even when I thought I was. Somehow, he always managed to make me feel like I was worth seeing, even if I didn't believe it myself.

We have similar stories. While his father is barely around, my mother abandoned my family when I was 6 years old and so my father decided to move back to Stratford and build a new life for us. My dad, my older sister, and I have been neighbors with Justin and his mom since we moved here. They are small houses in bad neighborhoods, but two single parents manage to maintain them. Our grandparents go to church together and our families spend significant time together, especially on holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving.

At school, we never talk. He's always surrounded by his friends, and I feel like such an outsider that I'd never dare approach him in that setting. But I don't mind, and I don't think he does either. What no one else—our classmates, even our families—realizes is that for years, we've been sneaking off together in secret. Justin and I shared our first kiss when we were 12, during a party at our grandparents' church, in the parking lot while everyone else was inside for the service.

And since then, we've never stopped. No one has ever known—no one could even guess that behind the easy smiles and casual greetings, there's a whole hidden world between us. We've become experts at keeping our secret, slipping away unnoticed at family gatherings, sharing stolen moments when no one's looking. Justin always comes into my room at night too and we share secrets and touches and laughs under my blanket. Justin is the first boy I kissed, who I touched, who touched me.

My dad's on call at the hospital, my sister's out with her boyfriend, and Pattie is working a night shift at the restaurant. It's the perfect setup for Justin to sneak in through my bedroom window without anyone noticing.

"You know, you could've just used the front door today," I say, watching him climb through the window with practiced ease.

"Where's the fun in that?" he grins, stepping into the room and closing the window behind him. He moves toward the bed, giving me a playful look as his eyes flick to the book in my hands. "What are you reading?"

I hold it up for him to see. "It's a novel for class. Nothing exciting."

He raises an eyebrow as he sits down beside me, his leg brushing against mine. "Let me guess—something tragic where everyone falls in love but ends up miserable?"

"Pretty much," I laugh, nudging him lightly. "You'd hate it."

He leans in close, his hand finding its way to my cheek as he gently brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't know," he murmurs. "I'd be more interested if you read it to me."