#Online•jdb

5• Are You Okay?

• C H A R L O T T E •

By now it was 5am and I still hadn't slept. I was too wide awake after Justin's drunken texts. He hadn't responded yet after I asked what he meant by fans and getting mobbed for selfies. My mind buzzed with a million and one thoughts. It was all too eerily coincidental. I'm not an idiot. What are the odds of a guy named Justin, sad about being mobbed for selfies before a concert in Sydney while Justin Bieber was mobbed by fans for selfies before his Purpose Tour show in Sydney, Australia? Probably next to nothing.

I clicked my bedside lamp on, pulled myself up and brought my knees up to my chest. I navigated to twitter, desperate to Sherlock this.

@TheSydBelieber: I can't believe those "fans" ruined all our chances of meeting justin 😒

@BiebsTour: @justinbieber I apologize on behalf of all the fake fans

@CallieRauhl: They don't even treat him like a human :(

I instantly frowned the more I read. I exited the Twitter app and opened Instagram. Justin hadn't posted anything new and I felt sad. I just wanted to comfort him and tell him we're not all like that. We care about him.

I navigated to my messages with Justin (who I am increasingly thinking is actually the Justin) and typed a message.

Char
Are you okay, love?

He didn't respond. Not surprisingly, I guess. He's probably sleeping off his hangover or just not with his phone. I just... the more I think about this, the more concerned I become.

By 7am, I'd given up completely on any attempt at sleep. I shoved my sheets off and dragged myself out of bed. I sunk my feet into my fuzzy cat slippers and slugged to my bedroom door. But something stopped me dead in my tracks. It was me. I stared at my reflection in the full-body length mirror on my wall adjacent to my door. Below my eyes, it looked hollow and dark. My cheeks were sickly pale. My hair was disheveled and knotty. In short, I needed sleep and I needed a shower. But I also needed Justin to reply.

I shook my body to wake myself up; to shake off the tiredness. Then I slugged to our newly-furnished kitchen and made some fresh coffee.

As the water boiled, I leaned forward on the countertop and rested my chin in my palm. I pulled my phone out the middle pocket of my hoodie and pressed the home button.

He replied.

Justin
Yeah. I'm sorry about all the messages. I was kinda out of it.

The kettle clicked, announcing the water was ready. But I stared at his message. He's not even going to acknowledge that he revealed some detail about himself?

Char
As long as you're okay

I placed my phone, screen up, on the counter and put two spoons of sugar, one of coffee and half a cup of the boiled water into my mug.

Justin
Why do you care?

I diverted my eyes to the message. Why does he have to be so defensive?

Char
Why do you have to question it?

Justin
Because too many times people have "cared" about me just to get close to me and use me

I frowned deeply. He sounds just like Justin... Bieber. I'm on the edge of being fully convinced.

Char
You don't have to worry about that with me, Justin. I promise

I wished there was a way to successfully convey immense sincerity over text, but knowing it was near impossible, I just hoped he'd believe me.

I chugged a gulp of the hot, dark liquid in my favorite mug. The burn stung all the way down my throat but at least the pain reminded me to stay awake.

Ping!

Justin
Thank you

I felt my heart sink a little. I don't know what type of response I actually expected but a plain response like this seemed generic and ordinary.

Char
If I ask you something, will you promise not to get mad at me or hate me?

I don't know why I was doing this. If I ask him about my suspicions, I could lose these conversations forever. If I don't ask him and my suspicions are correct, the curiosity might just kill me. If I ask him and I'm incorrect, it could just ruin any future friendship we might've successfully had. But what if I ask him, I'm correct, and he doesn't hate me? What then?

Justin
I'll try

I mentally cursed him for being so difficult. It was too early on a Sunday morning for me to engage in conversations as difficult as pulling teeth.

Char
Okay here goes...

Char
Are you Justin?

I held my breath.

Justin
Wdym? I've already told you my name...

Those damn ellipsis are back.

Char
No man!

Justin
Wdym?

I know why I didn't ask the full question. I'm scared.

Terrified.

Nervous.

What if this isn't even real?

Do it.

Char
Are you Justin Bieber?

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Then I stopped waiting.

Char
Because you have too many coincidental similarities with him and when you told me you were sad coz fans at your concert mobbed you for selfies and you're in Australia and he is and you're studying the same online stuff as him. I just... I have to know or I'll go insane tryna figure out the truth

I let it out in a ramble of a text and I could hear my heart in my ears. I was anxious. I was stressed. I needed an answer.

Read.

Read.

Please answer. Please don't leave me on read. If he leaves me on read he either is Justin Bieber and is scared to admit it to me or he's so fed up with me bringing up Justin Bieber that he's ditching me. Right?

Please answer.

Please.

Ping!

Justin
Yes....

Justin
But you can't say anything... please...

Oh. My. God. I was right.

___________________________
Author's Note: AHHH so Charlotte knows for sure now that it's Justin and Justin admitted it. What do you guys think?? Please share your thoughts with me, you have no idea how much it motivates me 😊😊😊
Also, if you have any suggestions, please comment them as well 🙌🏼😊

I hope you enjoyed it & keep reading .

Lots of  ‪♡ ‬,
K