No pressure: A Rihanna/ Justin Bieber fanfic

Chapter 3: Complications

*JUSTIN'S POV*

6:23 am, New York. 2014

I pull the covers over my head. It's so bright this morning.

Wait, MORNING.

I throw the covers from off my head.
"Morning? What time is it?" I think to myself.

"Can I go back to sleep or have I just ruined my life forever?"

I grab my phone and squint at it as my hair falls loosely over my forehead. The screen lights up.

It's 6:23 am.

Shit! I'm late. I mean not actually, but you know like late to be early- you catch my drift.

I jump out of bed.

Time to get ready. Really wish I hadn't forgotten to set set that alarm you know.

I run over to the bathroom in My Calvin Kleins.

Ok, I have *counting on my fingers* 37 minutes to get ready for the date and to to get the Carlyle in time. That's not too bad. I combed my hair, took a quick shower and I put on a navy blue suite and headed down on the elevator.

"How's traffic Siri?"

" T r a f f i c i s l i g h t, a n d p r o g r e s s i n g q u i c k l y o n P a r k A v e n u e."

"Sweet."

I adjusted my watch before stepping out the elevator.

Ok things, things are going pretty smoothly. I'll go to the garage, grab my whip and then head to my breakfast at the Carlyle. I hope it's not crowded, but not like completely empty either, you need balance you know? So you're not like over congested but not feeling totally alone either. I really want to eat outside over looking the streets and shit, I think that would be hella romantic—

I didn't make any reservations...

Bruh! What a class act move! Rih-Rih is gonna think I'm a scrub! I hop in my whip and start cruising down Madison Avenue. The steel grey skyscrapers and and building facades melt into blur of gray in the morning as I drive past.

Siri was right traffic's not too bad, but I'm still running low on time.

I still need to call the Carlyle and get a reservation. But first I need to know what's good to eat there. I need to act classy and shit and pretend i know what the good stuff is and I don't act like I eat in-n-out every night in L.A. I need to ask someone super classy though. I scrolled through my contacts until I saw the one that said

"L-O-K-I😈"

I hit dial. I hope he'll pick up.
I heard a familiar voice on the other line.
"Hello?"
"Hey Tommy, this is Justin."
"Justin! So good to hear from you! How are things?" Tom Hiddleston said.

"I'm actually in a bit of a pinch, I am having breakfast at the Carlyle and I need to know what's good to order, I need to impress this girl."

"Ah! I see! A little bit of romance! Well I think a big rookie mistake would be to order The Carlyle Omelette with lobster meat and Caviar. Don't get me wrong it's absolutely delicious, but it's far to flashy and it will just make her think you are trying to hard. Instead order the traditional Eggs Benedict on salmon or the Egg white omelette with mushrooms, feta cheese and Vermont green salad. It shows a deeper grasp of what makes a quality dish and shows a more mature palette. Pair that with grape fruit juice, instead of OJ they squeeze it fresh to order, and it's a more sophisticated selection."

"Ok cool, cool, I gotcha! Thanks fam."

"It was my pleasure."Tommy said.

I hung.up. Ok now to make this reservation.
I put the phone on dial, nestling it on my cheek.

The concierge picked up the phone. I hope they're not overbooked.

"Thank you for calling The Carlyle hotel established since 1930, how may I help you?"

"Hi, yes, I'd like to make a reservation for breakfast?"

"Breakfast?" She said. I could tell her from her voices she was a little uncertain. "What day?"

"Today would be great." I said.

A brief pause.

"Usually we accept reservations several days in advance. There's a high possibility all tables are booked for this morning."

I licked my lip.
"Could you put me on the waiting list?"
I said.

"Of course, can I get a name for that reservation?"

"Yeah sure, umm, Justin Bieber."

I heard a heavy groan.

"...you want to place a reservation for 'Justin Bieber' ?"

"Yeah, I'm in New York for a couple of days. I'm actually having breakfast with Rihanna—"

The phone instantly hung up.

Fuck! She probably thought I was a prank caller or some shit.

I looked at my watch. It was 6:39.
Some Im running late, and I don't have a reservation at the place I want to eat at.
Really don't know what I'm going to do, but I'll figure it out.

At least I know not to order OJ...