Unknown Number (3)
Unknown Number is typing...
Unknown Number
Where are you?
What happens when Charlotte Windsor gets a text from an Unknown Number and it turns out to be Justin Bieber?
•Started 16/03/2017
I felt like I was dying. Tired. Exhausted. Every other word in the dictionary that describes being physically spent. After a five hour delay, waiting to get from Rio to São Paulo, then a 46 minute drive to our hotel, the Emiliano Hotel, I was so ready to crash. But I couldn't. I can't leave Justin hanging.
I lugged myself into my room and sighed happily at the sight of my bed for the next three nights. It exuded tempting comfort that I knew I should resist. I took a moment to document my current state and how difficult it was to refuse the bed's restful calmness.
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I scuffed my shoes, dragging myself to the shower. I needed to rejuvenate before meeting Justin for the first time. Jetlag isn't a good look on me. I stripped down, stepped into the shower and turned the faucet. I shuddered at the sudden heat of the rushing water. It rolled over my body, encasing every inch of my skin with awakening warmth. I shut my eyes for a few seconds. My mind raced with prospective scenarios for tonight. I don't want to disappoint Justin. What if I'm not as amazing as he may think right now? What if I ruin it?
After 15 minutes of embracing steam, soothing my muscles with the tantalizing rush of clean hot water, and my fingers and toes now resembling prunes, I shut off the faucet and stepped out the shower. Cool air wrapped around me and caused goose bumps across my skin. I snatched the first towel I could see and wrapped it securely around my body.
Our penthouse suite was chillingly quiet. The rest of the girls were out like lights, sleeping off the major jetlag. It was the most opportune time for me to sneak out to secretly meet up with none other than Justin Bieber.
I couldn't think of any outfit that would be perfect to impress Justin so after twenty minutes of pointless tussles with my clothes, I settled on a plain off-the-shoulder white tee, high-waist black jeans, slight heeled ankle boots and a fresh coat of light make-up. I didn't have time to style my hair so I accepted (not really though) my somewhat tousled chocolate brown locks. As I gave myself a once-over in the mirror, I felt the nerves quake in the pit of my stomach. Was this really going to happen after 8 years of dreaming about it? How?
I snapped a quick selfie and stared at it. Why do I look so plain? I wish I could stand out better with an undeniable beauty that turns heads. Especially tonight. I wanted Justin to look at me and be impressed. Or at least for him to think I'm... I don't know... beautiful, maybe? I sighed and---
New message from Boyfriend I go on in just under two--
