Stranger // [Justin Bieber]

Chapter 17

First Edit: 02/01/2017

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Were it not for the flawless airbrush foundation I'm wearing, my face would be red, sweaty and everything but camera ready.

A big gulp comes over me when I look out the window of the limousine. The famous and dreaded red carpet of the MTV Awards is right outside our door when the car pulls up for us to climb out. I don't know what is happening to me, but I can feel my heart pounding against my chest and my insides are churned in my stomach.

A warm hand touches mine and his fingers brush over mine for comfort, "Just breathe," Justin's angelic voice penetrates my ears.

I look to him with eyes that are the size of golf balls and force myself to breathe in a long inhale of air. It doesn't really help, because as soon as I exhale my heart starts to race again, "How are you not nervous?"

He smirks, "Once you realise behind all the fancy clothes, makeup and signature poses they're just human, it gets less scary."

"Tell that to the thousands of fans and paparazzi capturing your every move," I mumble and glimpse outside the window again. Bright flashes are literally going off second after second. It looks like a high-couture runway out there.

I jump a little when his warm breathe reaches my ear in a whisper, "You look beautiful by the way."

I force a smile and look down at my outfit.

The stylist Justin hooked me up with said that the MTV Music Awards is less formal and that I didn't need to wear a ballgown. Although I'm pretty sure I've seen dozens of girls step out in just that from the vehicles before us.

I readjust the long silver sleeves on my Balmain mini dress and fix the sequins on top. The dress is way out of my comfort zone - a sheer back and corset tight around my waist. It stops miles above my knees, well that's how it feels anyway.

I had to get a fake tan for this shit. My poor milk legs wouldn't have done the dress justice.

And of course Justin is so much taller than me, that the stylist didn't have an issue with picking out the tallest black gladiator heels for me to wear with this outfit.

Please Lord, don't let me fall.

"You're up mr. Bieber," the chauvier announces..

There it goes again. My heart kicks into overdrive and I start to panic, "What if I trip and embarrass you? Or worse! What if I stumble and fall and my behind is exposed to all those cameras!"

Justin smirks and rubs my back, "You have a cute butt babe." He sees my glare and clears his throat in attempt to hide that cheeky smile, "Don't worry. Jennifer Lawrence fell at the Oscars and she turned out okay," he gently pulls me closer to him, "Besides, you can never embarrass me, you're too stunning for that."

I can't help but giggle and feel a blush creep over my cheeks. Luckily with this foundation, no one will ever see it. Hah!

Within seconds the door opens and Justin practically leaps out the car. He turns back and holds out his hand for me to take.

I take one last deep breath and climb out.

Almost immediately a choir of cries and screams erupt from the bystanders. Thousands of fans and news reporters chant Justin's name in excitement. I'm certain that I hear a few gasps as well.

When I've adjusted to the flashes and we stand ready for the first round of pictures, he whispers in my ear, "Don't smile, it's too exhausting and it makes them more curious. Just look at the cameras with a poker face."