The Camera (Justin Bieber Competition)

Okay, I am not a fan, but because Fan Fiction is such a popular category on Movellas I decided to give it a go to see if I could write a successful Fan Fiction piece for the competition, As Long As You Love Me. Enjoy, and please comment on what you think as I am new to this. Thank you!

Molly is a teenage writer who hates nothing more than her own life. Her parents are pushy, her agent is pushy, and the pushiest person of all is the film producer who wants to turn her book into a blockbuster movie. It should seem like a dream, but when Max Champagne wants none other than Justin Bieber to star alongside Molly as the main characters, she can't imagine anything worse.

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7. The Sky's The Limit.

"I have nothing to wear!" I moaned hysterically, throwing about £5000 worth of designer clothes in the air in my madness. Maggie had worn the same smug little smile on her face for the past three days, and it was beginning to get annoying.

"You know, Molly," she said, "A week ago you never cared about what you wore."

"Thanks for pointing that out, Sherlock."

"So..." She grinned at me, elbowing me like we were two gossipy best friends. "What has changed?"

I rolled my eyes. So she was going down that street. I should have known.

"Nothing has changed, Maggie." I rolled my eyes at her. "I just thought that I should look nice, you know, in Hollywood."

"Uh huh." Maggie folded up another Hollister jumper, smirking at me all the while. I looked away and buried my head in my wardrobe.

"Do you think that Justin... That I would look good in this blazer?"

It was an embarrassing slip of the tongue. I was going to say, 'do you think Justin would think I looked good in this blazer?' but figured that this wasn't a good move. Maggie took the blazer from my hands. She appraised it quickly, and then folded it up and put it in my suitcase.

"I think Justin would love you in it, sweetie."

How did she do that?

"Knock knock," came a voice from outside my door. 

"Come in," said Maggie and I simultaneously. My mum stuck her head around the door.

"Packing going well?" She smiled at me.

"Yeah, I guess," I mumbled. Mum seemed to not catch on to my mood. She turned to Maggie. "Maggie have you managed to have a word about... About Justin?" She whispered the last word as if it was diseased. Maggie turned red, and I turned around and folded my arms.

"What about him, Mum?"

"Oh darling," Mum was embarrassed now, "Maggie and I were just a bit concerned, that's all."

Oh! So Maggie wasn't just hoping that Justin and I would get together, she was worried that we would. "Mum, I would not go there. Ever."

They didn't appear convinced.

"The thing is, darling," Maggie began, "Well, I've read your book and I noticed a bit of... Well... Kissing and the like in it and so..."

"We just want you to understand that there is such a thing as acting," Mum said, "That when he kisses you... He doesn't really mean it, Molly. It's what he's paid to do."

The bluntness of her words hurt me. 

But really, it's what I had known all along.

I didn't stand a chance with Justin. 

Trying to swallow my stupid tears, I turned and delved into a box of books I wouldn't have room for in my suitcase anymore, turning my back on my mum and Maggie.

"He's eighteen, Molly," Mum soothed.

"And you're fifteen," Maggie added. Like I didn't know.

"Sixteen next month," I muttered underneath my breath so they wouldn't hear me. "I think we're done here." I announced more loudly. They thought I meant the clothes. 

"Yes, nearly sweetie," Maggie agreed nicely, "Just a few more t-shirts and then we'll be done."

"I meant the stupid condescending talk," I told them, throwing an old GAP t-shirt into my suitcase. "And we're now done with the shirts, too."

                                                                  * * *

I suppose I would miss Mum. And Maggie for that matter. But maybe I wouldn't have time to. I had been given a hectic schedule of my time in Hollywood: complete with read-throughs, press conferences, photo shoots and media appearances. I guess I was looking forward to it. A bit.

But mostly, I was looking forward to spending time with Justin. 

The only thing that I was absolutely dreading was the new stylist I was getting appointed in America. As much as she infuriated me sometimes, I loved Maggie. Even though it didn't seem like it sometimes, Maggie got me, and the special relationship that Maggie and I shared could not be duplicated with some glitzy American. 

Although both Mum and Maggie were coming out to visit in two weeks, my heart was already aching for their reassuring presence. 

Now, sitting here on top of my suitcase next to the enormous private jet that I would be travelling in, I just wished I could turn back the clock to a less complicated time.

When I had a less complicated life.

That didn't involve Justin Bieber.

But funnily enough, that all changed when I saw him walking up to meet me with his three suitcases. I blushed, feeling slightly overdressed in my skinny jeans and baseball jacket next to his grey tracksuit bottoms, black t-shirt and snapback. He grinned, and held out his arms for a hug. "How are you?" he asked, "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

I laughed, all heartache for my mum and Maggie swept away in an instant. It upset me slightly to discover that I loved Justin more than the two people who had been there for a much longer time than he had. "I saw you yesterday. We went bowling."

Now Justin laughed, ruffling my hair. "I know. I beat you, remember?"

I sighed, remembering the embarrassing defeat. "How could I forget? But it wasn't fair, everyone knows that Americans are so much better at bowling than us British dudes."

Justin frowned. "I'm Canadian."

"And it still gets you. Jeez, I love winding you up."

Kenny laughed a deep growl next to me. I jumped, forgetting how silent he could be when he wanted to. Justin shook his head at me jokingly and grabbed my suitcase easily. His strong muscles flexed and he grimaced. "Babe, what have you got in here?"

"Stuff."

We were at the stairs now, leading up to the jet. I breathed deeply, taking in a last gulp of disgusting, polluted but nonetheless British air. "I'm going to miss this."

Justin stopped and looked into my eyes. "You're better than this, Molly," he said, "You're made for stardom." When I looked doubtful, he grabbed my hand. My heart froze, then spluttered at a million miles an hour. Justin smiled. "The sky's the limit."

And we walked up the stairs to the plane, to Hollywood, to a brighter place than this land of doubt and uncertainty. 

 

 

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