Punishment by Pop Star The Joint Effort CHAPTER 16

I'm finally starting to not feel like my abdomen got run over by a truck. My stomach's been acting up the past couple days. I don't know what happened. I've tried to be so careful, but I got sick anyway. I don't remember much of yesterday or the day before on account of the medication I've taken, but I must've been really bad because Bieber's been really quiet and nice. He even offered to pack my suitcases for me, like I'm an invalid. I told him no. Today's our last day at his house, so we're getting our stuff together.

I thought Bieber was packing on the other side of the room. He startles me a bit when I realize he's suddenly right next to me. "Do you think maybe we could call a truce?" he asks uncomfortably.

"No," I say flatly. I wonder why the heck he would ask such a silly question. I give him a confused look. "What's up with you?"

"I..." Bieber takes a deep breath and straightens. "I want you to help me."

"Help you?" I raise my eyebrow.

"Yeah," he replies, both hesitant and decided. "I want you to help me get my sh—stuff together. My SELF together. I want to change, I can do so much better."

He's not talking about his suitcases. This is a new one on me, and I wonder where it's coming from. "Did Scooter put you up to this?"

"No, it's all me."

I cross my arms. "You want this?"

"Yes!"

I shrug it off and turn away, "It'll never work."

I can practically feel Bieber tense up through the air. "What? Why not?!"

"Because you're you. You don't really mean it." I sigh, "And even if you do, you'll just screw up."

"That's not true!" Bieber defies. "I do mean it! And I won't—okay I might screw up. But if I do Imma make up for it! Imma try even harder the next time! Hey, you're the one who said—"

"It doesn't matter what I said," I go back at him.

Bieber blows up. "You're right, it doesn't! Because I'M ready to do this. You know what I say? I say I can do this! I don't need you or anyone else to believe me because I believe in me!"

I smile. He took the bait and fell into my trap, but he came out victorious. "Listen to yourself."

Bieber is confused at first but then smirks a little. "I see what you did there."

"You've passed the first test of many, young grasshopper." I cross my arms again and stare him down. "I'll help you, but you have to want it. It'll be all in vain if you're not committed. And fair warning, I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Challenge accepted," Bieber grins. I've never seen him like this before. "Don't you doubt for a second that I want this!"

For a second all I can focus on are his eyes. They're practically sparkling with determination. Something feels different. (Well, we'll see, Bieber. Be prepared. I'm going to work you hard, because I know you have it in you.)

The moment passes, and Bieber and I resume gathering our stuff. After a bit, Bieber notices something hanging over my luggage and holds it up.

"OH and what's THIS?" he laughs.

I suddenly realize what he's holding and panic arises in my abdomen.

"NOTHING," I shout, completely having lost my cool, and I even jump on him to get it back. But Bieber's in hysterics and in no way ready to stop taunting me now.

"YOU'VE BEEN A BELIEBER ALL THIS TIME!" He's laughing so hard he's nearly crying.

"No I haven't!" The feminine black t-shirt with Bieber's young face on it is now back in my possession. I hold it close to me without realizing that my action is fueling the fire. Now Bieber's doubled over howling like a hyena. I've had enough. "Shut up!" I kick him.

Well that knocked all the hot air out of him. "OWW," Bieber moans, doubling over in tears for a different reason now. I start folding the shirt and Bieber tries to catch his breath. "Whyyyy did you do that," he cringes.

"Because you're a moron!" I snap. "Oh please, stand up, it's not like anything's really there."

His body and ego bruised, Bieber goes to protest, but stops and limps over after seeing the look on my face. "Hey..." he says confusedly, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I mumble quietly.

"No, seriously."

It must be my bad mood messing with me. He actually seems concerned.

"I said—"

Bieber cuts me off. "You're lying."

I must be hallucinating right now. He's staring at me so intensely. I get lost in his gaze again and end up responding quietly, "I don't have this shirt because I'm a closet Bieber-fan."

"Is that really what just upset you so much?"

He knows it's something else. How is he reading into me? He can see right through me. I'm beyond uncomfortable but words keep coming out of my mouth and it's as if I'm in a trance.

"...My aunt bought it for me as a joke...because she loved you and I always hated you." And before I know it I'm telling him. It's like an out-of-body experience. "She passed away...a few Decembers ago."

Something suddenly changes in Bieber. "Oh," he says softly, taken back. "I'm sorry..."

I snap back to myself and realize that I just opened up about something I don't like to talk about with anyone. And the person I just opened up to is Justin Bieber.

I think he sees that I'm stunned and perplexed, and he cautiously moves towards me. "Hey, she's laughing at you right now," he smiles. "She's getting a real kick out of you having to work for me."

I can't help smiling, and I have to agree. "She sure is."

Justin folds my shirt with care, and I let him. My mind is elsewhere while we finish packing.