The Fighter

Candrah wasn't expecting any of the series of events that happened after that night.
That night when she met, Justin 'One Shot' Bieber.
She wasn't expecting love, but it's exactly what she got.


3. Chapter 3

I woke up at 6:30 am, exactly.

I noticed a suitcase in the corner of the room

I quickly changed into my workout gear.

Nike black spandex, a neon pink sports bra, and a matching jacket.

I stumbled around, trying to get socks and my Free Runs on.

I grabbed my phone, and hurried to the kitchen.

"Ah, Ms.Daisy had decided to join us." Justin said, not looking up from his heaping plate.

"Daisy?" I asked, turning around to grab something to eat from the fridge.

"I'll explain later. You ready to go?" He asked.

"What does it look like?" I asked playfully, rummaging through the fridge.

"I swear to God, if you keep those pants on, I will not be able to contain myself." He mumbled.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said, playing with him.

He hopped off his seat, and dragged me over to a mirror.

"Stand sideways." He directed.

I followed his orders, so you could see the side of my body in the mirror.

"Now, if you're saying you don't see ass, you're delusional. I mean, just look at it! How do I not!? It's driving me crazyyy." He whined.

My face heated up, and I walked back to the fridge to get water for the two of us.

"I'm your trainer, not your girlfriend." I said, passing him the water.

"You could be both." He mumbled, as I grabbed my phone.

"Let's go." I said, walking out the door.


I put my iPhone on the iHome speaker, and shuffled my playlist. 

"Ain't It Fun." by Paramore started to play, and I started to stretch.

Justin was jogging in place.

We were in the gym at the amazingly expensive hotel, in the back, they conveniently have a track.

I began to run, and I felt a tap on my butt.

I turned my head, and Justin winked.

"Couldn't help myself, I warned you." He called out.


Justin eventually caught up to me.

"Jesus, you run fast." He said.

"High school track star." I answered.

"Interesting." He replied.

We ran a few more laps in silence, and then "We Can't Stop." by Miley Cyrus came on, and Justin started singing along.

His voice cracking every now and then. 

"You suck." I said, laughing.

He continued to sing, but louder, causing passers to stare.


He was currently using the punching bag.

I was standing next to him, holding his water.

"Why'd you call me 'Daisy'?" I asked when he stopped punching.

"You smell like one." He said, flashing his infamous smirk.

"You're so weird, you know that?" I asked.

"I know, but don't forget, you sniffed my shirt last night." He added.


We currently were at the match.

I met Justin's "Mother Figure", his personal chef, Mary.

She was in her mid thirties, and she had dark brown hair.

I was dressed in a black high-wasited pencil skirt, and a red crop top, and black short heels.

Mary picked out my outfit for me, she said its how most girls usually dressed for the fights, and she was right.

Mary and I became really close, really fast.


I watched as he trotted out of the hallway, and into the arena.

"You know, I think he really likes you. This morning, you were all he was talking about." She said, making me turn my head to face her.

"Really?" I asked.

"Really. Look at him, he can't take his eyes off you." She said, pointing towards the ring.

I turned my attention to the ring, and there he was.

His eyes locked on mine.

I motioned for him to do his usual turn around, and he shook his head 'no'. 


The fight ended quickly, nailing the kid with 2 punches.

The ref raised Justin's hand in victory, and the yells filled the room.

Justin climbed under the rope, and made his way over to us.

He pointed his finger at me.

"What are you do-" I started, but he cut me off.

He grabbed my waist with his hands and pulled me closer, and kissed me.

I was so glad he was holding onto me, or I would've sank to the floor.

Whistles were heard from all around the room.

My heart was beating so fast, and butterflies swarmed my stomach.

When he pulled away, he just walked away.

Not even a smile, wink, or smirk, nothing.

He just walked away.








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