|Self-Conclusion|Justin Bieber|Dear Aiden Sequel|

|Self-Conclusion|Justin Bieber|22|

*The three songs featured in this chapter are all written and performed by The Spill Canvas*

The black van pulled into the back of the venue. I was mentally and physically exhausted. Scooter warned me that I wasn't going to get much sleep, but I didn't realize how much of a toll it was really going to take one me. I'd finished the recording of my single late last night only to return to the hotel, unable to sleep from the nerves. I'd maybe gotten two to three hours of rest.

Justin was seated next to me and we hadn't spoken since yesterday at the photoshoot. He knew that he wasn't off the hook quite yet. He seemed to be fairly irritated, angry even. Though, I wasn't sure if it was directed towards me or if someone else had ticked him off. Either way, I wasn't going to attempt to console him. He glanced over at me just before I stepped out of the van and was escorted to a dressing room where another stylist was waiting.

She put up my hair and did my makeup with scary quickness and then set out a few pairs of clothes for me to choose from. I'd guessed that the other stylist had consulted with Scooter and this one was warned that I wasn't going to let anyone make me up to be something I wasn't. I chose the Nirvana T-shirt and faded denim shorts. Then she gave me the options for my shoes and I chose simple converse. I was able to give myself one good look in the full length mirror on the back of the door before I was ushered out towards the back stage area.

As I turned the corner I saw Justin doing his pre-show ritual of talking to his mom and Scooter. Scooter caught my eye and walked away from Justin and towards me. He came to stand at arms length in front of me. His expression was stern and business like.

“Are you ready for this?” He asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

“I've been ready for this since I was eight years old,” I answered.

Scooter looked down with a chuckle. “You seem so sure of yourself. That's good. That's a great asset to have in this business. Never second guess a decision that leads to you moving forward.”

I nodded once and he patted my shoulder as he walked away.

My eyes trailed back to Justin talking to his mother. Pattie glanced over at me and then waved her finger at Justin as if she was scolding him for something. Then she patted him on the back and left him alone. He still seemed off. Not like the happy, “I'm-Justin-Fucking-Bieber”, Justin that I had some to know. Either I'd made a terrible decision to screw with his head and was already unraveling him despite the fact that I'd hardly done half of what I had planned, or I had him exactly where I wanted him. If it were the first theory, then her definitely won't take my performance well.

We made brief eye contact before Selena came up behind him. I watch as he turned to her and she seemed to be trying to console him, making an obvious effort to not look in my direction. A stage tech brought me my guitar, picked out and ordered on rush yesterday afternoon. I busied myself with adjusting the strap in order to get my mind off of the bullshit that Selena was most likely spouting to Justin. Then, I flipped the strap around so that the guitar was resting on my back. I felt like a bad ass while I was being poked and prodded at by the techs who were putting my earpieces in.

My heart was racing as I was rushed towards the entrance to the stage. I had three songs to perform, each one with a vague message to Justin and his parasitic girlfriend. I took a deep breath just before I was blinded by the spotlight as I walked to center stage. The sound of the thousands of voices screaming gave me goosebumps. I approached the microphone that was directly under the lights.

As I pulled my guitar back around so that it was in front of me again, I grasped the microphone and spoke as calmly as I could.

“What's up, y'all?”