Kinyume - an Interracial Justin Bieber Fanfiction (BWWM)

"Michezo" > Games <

"Michezo" means Games in the awesome Swahili language.

Sup my flawless peeps! What's good!

YO.

I can't even begin to thank you guys for the attention you've given this story. I swear to you I am beyond grateful for every vote and comment.

When I tell you guys, your comments is what convinces me to update faster, I am spilling no lie. So a special Asante to every person who commented after any chapter and gave me their personal opinion on what occurred in the story.

THANK YOU SO MUCH.

4,000 views in such a short amount of time? Jesus ya'll too bomb like dick too bomb level son.

THANK YOU.

"" Someone is speaking.

' ' Someone is thinking, thoughts.

Beauty, to me is about being comfortable in your own skin.

- Gwyneth Paltrow.

Every black girl is a queen.

Anana means soft and gentle in the Swahili language :)

Diary by Wale feat Marsha Ambrosius would be the song of the chapter. Every girl can relate to it, especially the sistas.

Disclaimer: Justin Bieber is not mine. Yet.

~

My eyes followed Honesti as she paced back and forth in the massive and freshly polished marble floored elevator, my hands starting to have those internal electric sparks since I was leaning on them to hold my ground.

Today it felt like this elevator was going 5 miles an hour. It was making me a little tense and got my mind thinking up scenarios of me being trapped in for hours. Honesti was too busy having a mental conversation with herself. All I knew was that I needed to get this assignment over with so I could go back to my room and dive in my bed. The Choir competition was tomorrow night and I was not going to deal with this child's shenanigans since I was gonna stay up all damn day tomorrow surrounded by all types of annoying females.

I frowned visibly just thinking of the various cliques of girls seeing each other for the first time in how long, squealing out their spirits.

Note to self: Buy 2 bottles of aspirin because I knew myself and my temperament.

Honest on grandma's grave if I hear more then 5 girls squeak in my ear, I'm going harm-wall.

It was starting at 7am and ending near midnight, I needed my damn sleep.

I understood the whole Instagram dilemma now and came to peace with myself since I was starting to lose my shit trying to figure out how the hell he got my picture. Honesti used that little amount of time to go through my main suitcase, flinging random articles of clothing on my bed.

I was a little grateful that it wasn't my shoes she was tossing everywhere like a baseball because it would've gotten really real really quickly. Of course, I gotta stay chill, Honesti is the bae. She was a pretty chill person and since I've arrived in Texas, she's the first person to welcome me on in. But look here, I haven't known her more then 3 days and here she is snooping through my Scooby- Doo boy-shorts like it was an everyday hobby.

That was quick.

I moved out the way in time from being hit in the chest with a pair of bold red dance shorts that my moms threatened me to take. Don't ask me why, she's just extremely bizarre.