Justin Bieber Imagines

Things Change || Sad/Breakup (Part 1)

( Part 1 )

sophie.

I sat on the couch, staring up at the figure before me with almost watery eyes. His hair was sticking out in different directions, as he kept on running his hand through it, over and over again. His face was flustered as if he was tired from yelling and tired from all this bullshit that's been going on since he came home just an hour ago.

His eyes were dark, full of anger, sadness, and a mix of desperation as he just wanted this all to stop.

But we both knew that it was impossible for us to just let this all drop and keep going on with the rest of our lives.

No, I'm definitely not going to drop all of this.

"Justin!" I snapped, watching the frustrated boy in front of me, snap his gaze over to me. "Please explain this all to me! I still don't quite understand where or how this is coming from, considering you were just perfectly fine before you left to go to the important meeting with your management. I don't get why you have to break up with me." I whispered the last part, feeling my eyes begin to sting from the tears that were threatening to spill out.

He let out a deep sigh, pacing back and forth of our living room, muttering a few cuss words in the processes.

"Because Sophie," He began, finally stopping in his tracks to face me. "My management thinks that I need to go out with someone who is more... experienced."

I couldn't help bit stifle in a scoff. "Experience?" I icily repeated, now standing up. "What the hell do you mean by that?!?" My voice rose, anger lacing around my words.

He shook his head, and groaned out in frustration. "Dammit! Can't you stop yelling for at least a minute!" He growled, causing me to just stare at him with a blank expression.

"I meant," His voice sounded like as if it was softening. "My management thinks that it would be best for me to date a celebrity instead of a --" I cut him off.

"A normal no-good girl who came from the poor part of town." I finished, shamelessly looking at my feet. I felt a tear slip out of my eye, and I immediately wiped it away, feeling myself start to become more sensitive with the topic as this conversation with Justin continued. I've heard it all before;

"What is a famous celebrity like Justin Bieber, dating a girl who probably doesn't even know what the inside of a mansion looks like?"

"Justin can do way better than to date a girl who only owns 2 pairs of shoes."

"Ugh, Justin Bieber's girlfriend looks like she was pulled out of a hobo town."

Even if it pains me to say it, but they're right. Every single person who insulted me about how I don't fit in with Justin's gold chains wearing, Ferrari driving, mansion living, money loving lifestyle, is completely and utterly true.

And I'm completely shameful and embarrassed about that.

"No, Sophie... They didn't mean it like that." He soothed, walking over to me. "It's just, that my management wants me to feel more comfortable around people --" I cut him off once again.

"People, who aren't so poor like me. People who you could spend millions of dollars with. People who you could talk with while wearing fancy clothes, at a fancy restaurant, eating a fancy meal. Justin, I get it! Your management and people don't want a girl like me to be seen with a boy like you. Lets just face it, I'm a girl from a small town, who might not have enough money to buy a Gucci bag. Or might not have so many shoes. Or who probably isn't familiar what the hell it's like to get your kind of paycheck. But dammit Justin, I get it!" I repeated, yelling at my last statement.