Justin's POV
"It's Kyle," he said through the intercom. I buzzed him in. When he drove up in my driveway in his rundown Jeep, I noticed he looked cleaner than he usually does.
When he came out of his car, he was wear a light blue collar shirt and some black jeans.
"Why'd you clean up?" I asked him.
"I'm here for you to bring me to the rehabilitation centre, not ask questions, Bieber," he said in annoyance.
"Pockets,"
He showed me that he had no drugs on him.
"Why'd you drug me?" I asked him with slight anger.
"What? I didn't,"
"There was fucking cocaine on my food that day!"
"I promise I didn't. Well I didn't mean to. I may have sneaked a bit in the kitchen but I didn't mean to put it on your food,"
"I don't know if I should believe you,"
"You don't have to, I get it. Let's just go,"
I still don't understand how he wounded up in my life again after all those times I've got him out. It's almost impossible with him.
I called my drivers so he'd drive us to the rehabilitation centre. Let's just hope I get him away for good this time.
When we arrived, there were no paparazzi. Hopefully no one will catch me. I ran out as quickly as I could and into the building with Kyle.
We told the doctors his addiction to drugs, everything they needed to know. I promised him a somewhat luxurious room here, so I handed them a cheque for $25,000 on the spot. Things were sorted out and he was brought into the centre.
I left quickly before someone stopped me on the way out.
"Are you Justin Bieber?" He asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
"Thanks. You helped me get out of this shitty place,"
"How?"
"Your music, I guess. I can't believe I'm actually talking to you,"
"You're not gonna ask for a picture?"
"It's alright, I got to talk to you, that's more than enough,"
"It's fine, I don't mind, come," I said, pulling out my phone. I took a quick picture with him and asked for his email so I could email the photo to him.
"Thank you," he smiled.
"Anytime,"
I walked out of the building as secretive as I could. I went inside the car and went straight to my rehearsal dinner.
---
"You're late," Ariana whispered as she smiled, greeting the people.
"Sorry," I said, fixing my tie. "I had a meeting,"
"As long as you don't show up late to the actual wedding, whatever, I guess. Now go to Danielle, she'll tell you what to do,"
I went over to Danielle who told me what to do. People running around this place like crazy making sure everything will go perfectly.
"So yeah, that's basically all you have to do. No worries, dinner will be easy, just the actual ceremony will be a bit more difficult,"
"Okay, thanks,"
"No problem," she smiled, walking off to the other people.
"Scooter is looking for you, he's in the third room to the left outside this room," Victor said.
What does he need me for?
I walked to the room and saw him sitting there on the phone.
"You needed me?" I asked.
"Talk to you later, bye," he said, hanging up his conversation on the phone.
"Yeah, some rehabilitation centre called and said that you owe them $25,000? Rehabilitation centre? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about me,"
"Talk to me about it, what's going on,"
"It's nothing, I promise. I need to go back to the rehearsal, I'll see you later! Oh and, don't tell Ariana about this, please," I walked out of there as fast as I could. I owe them $25,000? For what? I already paid them right up front.
Ariana's POV
"Is everything alright with Justin?" Scooter asked.
"Yeah, why?"
"Don't tell him I told you this, but some rehabilitation centre just called saying he owes them $25,000. He's not telling me anything, thought you should keep a heads up,"
"What? Rehab? He didn't tell me anything about rehab,"
"Maybe you should talk to him, but don't mention I told you,"
What did I ever do wrong to not notice something was up with Justin. What is up? Is it that weird thing I tasted the other day when I kissed him? Is he addicted to drugs? I knew it. But he would've told me, wouldn't he?
I turned the corner and saw Justin. "Babe, is everything okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine, why?"
"REHEARSALS! REHEARSALS!"
"Because-"
"-c'mon, let's go," he said, grabbing my hand and walking me into the room.
He completely ignored my question and by the end of rehearsals I totally forgot about it.
I feel like I'm a horrible person. Am I so hard to talk to that he wouldn't even tell me about this? Does he think I'll judge him? Our wedding day is in a week, I already have enough to stress about.
Justin's POV
After rehearsals, I went back to the rehabilitation centre.
"I wrote you the cheque, right on the spot! You even saw!" I complained.
"It's invalid, sir,"
"Invalid? Do you know who I am?" I spat.
"Sir, calm down,"
"It's $25,000! I can buy a damn car with that kind of money! Where did it go?"
"Sir, it says it's invalid," she said, slipping the cheque back to me.
"This isn't even my cheque. This isn't even my hand writing, who gave you this?"
"You did, sir,"
"No, I didn't. I refuse to pay, this is ridiculous. You think you can just find $25,000 on the floor?"
"Sir, even if you did write the cheque, it's not like you can't afford to pay another $25,000,"
"Excuse me, but I work for this money. Yes I can afford it, in fact I could probably pay for everyone who goes here, but I don't just throw my money away. A coffee at McDonald's is like $2.00 I'm sure you could afford it for everyone in the store but it's not just money you would throw away like that,"
"Sir, if you don't pay, I'm afraid Kyle can't stay here,"
"Here's $25,000. I want to see you deposit it right now,"
The cheque was valid, so I left. Who the fuck took my money?
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Updating at 50
~ Kris
