Under the Mistletoe - A Justin Bieber Story

Inspired by the new Justin Bieber Christmas Album - Under the Mistletoe


1. I don't want to go

I didn’t want to go. Since when are you obliged to go to your neighbors christmas drinks after the age of 13. May I also mention, that we had been neighbors my whole life and never once have we gone to their house for a ‘Christmas drinks’, why was it all changing now? I was suspicious. Yes, it was a given, there were be endless Christmas treats and Christmas apple cider, and I know I can’t resist delicious food. But what. was. this.

“No,” I told my mum, “You must be joking, because there is no way I am putting on that ridiculous outfit that you are holding up at me and then putting on a fake smile to celebrate Christmas with people we don’t even know.”

“Adriana come on , you know your father, brother and I are going and you do know them, you played with the kids when you were younger.”

“Fine, I’ll give you that. I once played in their garden when I was younger, but doesn’t that make it worse?! We won’t recognise each other and there will be this big elephant in the room that we are ‘meant’ to be these great friends.”

“Theres no way you’re not coming, or, or,” I could see my mum looking up, trying to think of the worst possible punishment she could give me, “or, you won’t get any Christmas presents because you quite clearly are lacking the Christmas cheer.” There was one hundred percent no way that she wouldn’t give me my Christmas presents. This was one of the weakest, least credible threats I had received in a long time. What she really should have said was, “I will give you grief about it for the rest of Christmas if you don’t.” I would have got my act right in to shape had she said that. But that was a given, even though she might not know it yet, I sure knew that this would be the consequence of not going to this ridiculous Christmas drinks. I looked at her, almost to try and pretend that her threat had really got to me, “As long as I don’t have to wear that disgusting wooly number.”

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