his dreams || j.b.

fourteen

Justin was pacing in front of his laptop, which was placed on the coffee table in front of him. He was still in Vegas- it was his third and final night there.

He had been trying to Skype Caitlin. His calls hadn't been answered several times now. "Come on, pick the fuck up!" He yelled in frustration, pulling at his hair. His own frustration had caused him to be deaf to the fact that the ringing had stopped.

"Woah, okay Justin." Caitlin sat on the other end, and when Justin turned to look at his computer he could see she was sitting cross legged on her bed.

"Caitlin. Fuck you, honestly. Why are you fucking ignoring me?!" He sat down in front of his screen.

"Stop swearing or I'm hanging up now." Her voice was calm in comparison to his.

"You don't tell me what to do. I-"

"You're not gonna finish that sentence, that's what." Caitlin sighed, running a hand through her hair. She stared at her screen, seeing how tired Justin looked. He looked run down and on the verge of a breakdown. "Why do you keep trying to call me?"

Justin's jaw clenched immediately. He could tell, just by the way she was looking at him, that she was pitying him. He knew he looked like a mess, but he hated that she was making it so obvious. "You never answered my question."

Caitlin was silent for a second before she sighed. "I don't understand why you keep trying to get in touch with me. That's why. I thought we agreed it was just a one night thing. And when you didn't get in touch for several months... I didn't think you really cared whether or not I picked up when you finally did have time for me."

"Well you thought wrong. I was just busy. If I call you, I expect you to pick the phone up and wipe that attitude off your fucking mind while we speak. Got it?" He was holding onto the coffee table, his jaw still locked and his voice stern.

Caitlin frowned, leaning back a bit. "You don't own me, Bieber. Money doesn't buy people-"

"Caitlin I swear to god." Justin closed his eyes. "I asked you a question. Respond to it. Got it?" He spoke slowly. If he didn't, he'd loose his shit.

"Why are you like this?" She asked quietly, but it was enough to make Justin grab his computer and slam the top shut. He grabbed the edges of the coffee table, flipping it over before jumping to his feet and pulling at his hair again.

He walked over to the large window of his hotel room, putting his fists against it and pressing his forehead against the cold glass. As he stood there with his eyes closed, trying to regain his composure, he thought of his dreams.

Every single one of his dreams had been showing his bad side. His possessive side. His weak side. The side he never wanted to let slip.

It was happening. He was becoming possessive, and he couldn't even fight it. Not that he wanted to. Caitlin was his and his alone.

He craved her body. He needed it. He figured that if he could control her attitude, too, she would be complete perfection. He knew he would make it happen.

Justin pushed off of the window, grabbing the key to his room and walking into the hallway. He needed to forget, at least for a while. He figured what better place to do that in than Vegas.

-

"Caitlin.." Justin leaned back against the pillows on his bed, clutching the hotel's phone in his hand and keeping it pressed to his ear. "Pick up, damnit. Please." His voice was softer this time. He had calmed down. The alcohol running through his system had helped his anger. It always did.

The only thing he got in return was the monotonous voice telling him to leave a message, which he had already done several times. Nonetheless, he decided to do it again.

His voice was raspy and low, showing just how close he was to a breakdown. "Caitlin, it's me. Please pick up, I'm sorry."

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Bipolar Justin coming thru ;)