Illicit Affairs │Justin Bieber

Before: You're all that matters to me

hi! some notes:

- i rushed through the years, but that's because i wanted to cover as far as possible before getting where i want 

- this is the last chapter of the "before" section

warning: this chapter contains explicit sexual content!!

POV: Justin

April, 2014

I know I'm sinking. Everyone around me can see it: in the women I bring to bed, the endless parade of meaningless faces. In the alcohol that courses through me, dulling the edge for just a few hours. In the drugs that numb my body and my mind, providing an escape I crave but can never fully reach. It's in the mugshot that's everywhere, splashed across magazines and TV screens. And the truth is, I'm exhausted. Completely, utterly worn out from pretending everything's fine.

The laughter, the chatter, the blaring music around me—it all blurs into one overwhelming noise. But none of it drowns out the internal chaos. It never does. The dim lights cast long shadows on the walls, shadows that feel like they've crawled straight out of me. And it's Isabela's birthday. She hasn't spoken to me in six months.

Meanwhile, her life is exactly where it's supposed to be. College has been good to her. She's built this solid, incredible circle of friends who get her, who challenge her, who make her laugh in ways I haven't seen in years. She's been working hard too—debuting in small, independent plays and short films that are starting to get noticed. She's making a name for herself, and I see it every time her name pops up in an article or a post. She's thriving. Without me.

We fought six months ago. It wasn't even over something big—it was because she was worried. About me, about everything that was swirling around me—the headlines, the controversies, the people I'd surrounded myself with. She called it all out. Told me I was throwing my life away. And I snapped. I told her to stop acting like she knew better, like she could save me. She stormed out, and I let her go.

Before I left the hotel, I crafted what I thought was the perfect email and saved it in my drafts. The moment the clock hit midnight, I snuck into the bathroom and hit send. I know I'm coming off overly eager, but I've been keeping an eye on her—through Instagram, or my fake Snapchat account—and I know she's out celebrating. I glance around, checking to make sure no one's paying attention, and open the sent folder to double-check (for the thousandth time) that I didn't say anything wrong.

from: starboy@gmail.com

to: bellanottheswan@gmail.com

Subject: Sorry and Happy Birthday

Dear Bella,

I hope this email finds you well. I know it's been a while since we last spoke, but I couldn't let today pass without reaching out. There are a million things I wish I had done differently, but I need to say something before it's too late.

First, I want to apologize. I messed up, badly. The way I've been living, the way I treated you—none of it was fair. I pushed you away when all you ever did was care about me. I should've listened instead of shutting you down. You've always had my back, and I didn't treat you like the best friend you are.

I've been spiraling, and it's obvious to everyone, including you. And despite all the complications, I miss us—our friendship, and everything else. I miss the connection we had. I miss your smile, your laugh, your voice. You've always been real with me, and I threw everything we built away like it didn't matter. But it does matter. You're all that matters to me.

I miss you, Bella. I miss the way you saw me when no one else could. I've been too stubborn to admit it, but losing you has been the hardest thing. I'd give anything to take back those last few months and fix what I broke. I know I don't deserve it, but I hope you'll consider talking to me again.