FAG (Justin Bieber x OC)

1

"So why you been actin' like such a fuckin' wanker?" A black guy with the sky blue SnapBack flopped down next to me on the floor, managing not to spill any of the beer he was carrying. He handed me one of the already open bottles and I took it. Having been drinking all night, I had to really focus on gripping the cool, green bottle so as not to drop it.
"What?" I asked.
"You're Justin Bieber, innit? You got everytin' goin' for you. You're rich, famous, good looking, you got this music career an' you got all the girls goin' after you an' shit. Why are you fuckin' it up, yeah?" I could tell from the slur that he was slightly drunk too.
I truthfully had no answer. In all honesty, I was struggling to remember how I'd even wound up sitting in the corner at a stranger's booming house party somewhere in South London. I'd been in London for a book signing and someone had spray painted "FAG" across the poster when I got there. Of course, I'd done the signing, hadn't I? All those Beliebers couldn't be let down. All those pretty girls screaming my name. I couldn't let them down just because some douchebag had vandalised my set up with yet another homophobic insult. They'd removed the poster immediately, so I never saw it when I walked out again. I escaped from my bodyguard and headed to a club, where one thing lead to another, I met some people and somehow I ended up here.

I can still see it in my mind though.

FAG.

"Blad, you aight?" I turned to the guy beside me. He was alright looking, with a nose that seemed to grow bigger sideways rather than forwards and a set of large, dark lips. I probably stared at his lips too long, because he flicked a pink tongue over them uncomfortably.
Snapping my eyes back up to his, I told him, "No! You know what? I'm not fucking okay." I took an angry swig of the alcohol in my hand.
"What's wrong then?"
"Fucked if I know," I lied through my teeth.
He laughed a deep laugh, "That's such bullshit, man!" He craned his neck round to put his face in front of mine so I had to make eye contact with him. His irises were black as an ink jot and glittering with curiosity. He looked like someone who was concerned but wasn't in too deep, if you know what I mean? I found this oddly comforting, like I was talking to someone who would listen, but it didn't matter if they judged me.

I must have waited too long to answer, because he sighed and said instead, "Aight, man, be like that. My name's Moses, by the way." He moved his head away from my face and leant back against the wall. After a moment, I followed suit. We spent a few moments not talking, just staring at both our legs stretched out on the slate grey carpet in front of us.

I wanted to tell him all that was wrong.
I wanted to tell someone.

I decided to start with an easier problem. "I hate the music I make, Moses," I explained.
"Why, blad? You got some pretty good dance beats out there. You're in the charts and stuff."
"Yeah, but I make them for the girls, you know? I have to...'appeal to my target audience'. It's not that I hate it all. I like more interesting music, though. Something with a proper bass. You know?"
"Yeah, I get you, man. Well then, like I always say: if you've figured out what makes you unhappy, you've got'a change it."
"What about my Beliebers?" I asked, skeptically. Moses was starting to grow on me. He seemed like a cool guy. I was a total random but he still gave a shit that I wasn't happy. He didn't look like he listened to 'Baby', but he hadn't judged me or called me a fag.
"Please, man. Those girls idolise you. You probably gonna turn them alls into hardcore dubstep fans or some shit," he grinned at me. Against his very black skin, his smile gleamed white and dazzling, like the reflection of a street light streaked brightly across a wet pavement. The insides of his lips were a dark pink colour.

I smiled back at him, starting to feel better about tonight. Even if the day was crap, at least I will have met someone cool. "I hope you're right. And what do I do about management?"
"Screw them, man! How much are you worth now? You just tell them "This is what I wanna do" and it's not like they can stop you." Moses laughed again and it was such a chill, easy going laugh. Not like twangy American or Canadian laughs. This guy was so laid back.
"Thanks, man. I'm gonna start making my own decisions in music."
I had total faith I would stick to my words.