Beauty and the Beast

I slowly climbed the stairs that lead to my bedroom, knocking my foot on each step as I went. It had been a long day at school, and I was desperate to just lie down and go to sleep. I sighed at the thought of what lay ahead, more rumours were to come, and I knew they would only get worse.

Today had only been the start. I should be used to it by now, logically, I know that. The problem with rumours is that they spread like wildfire, sometimes they are false, and sometimes they are true.

Today, they were true. Everyone had been asking me if it was true and as much as I would have loved to deny it, I couldn’t. Justin Bieber was going to be living with me for a year. A year, a whole year. Maybe more if he didn’t clean up his act. My dad is president of Island Def Jam records, so when things with Justin began to get bad my dad offered up his home to the little teenage wannabe rebel.

Before I go any further I should really introduce myself. My name is Lyric Amber Pacific and I am 17 years old; I live in England with my dad and I hate Justin Bieber.

I’d nearly made it up the stairs when my dad called up to me, to try and reason with me, “Please Lyric, it’ll only be for a little while!”

I stopped dead on the stairs. I could feel the anger rising in me, he really didn’t understand at all, “Dad, you don’t understand! I hate him, I hate everything about him! He’s just some cocky brat, who thinks he deserves the world to be handed to him on a silver platter! He thinks he’s God’s gift to women, and he’s just a stuck up little prick!” I shouted. This was going to ruin my life, and my dad just couldn’t see it!

“Lyric, you’ve never met the boy and you know nothing about him. You are no better than the people you claim to hate. You are no better than the people that judge you for the way you look or the music you listen to.”

I ignored his reasoning, and continued with my argument, “Dad you don’t have a clue what you are talking about! I’ve met plenty of people that do know him, and they all say the same thing!” I wanted to scream, why was it so impossible for him to understand? I wasn’t the only person to think this. I wasn’t basing my judgement off of nothing.

“Lyric you cannot make a judgement on someone you do not know. No matter what you may have heard from someone else.” My father scolded.

“I really do not care. If it wasn’t true then he wouldn’t be coming here, would he? His own mother is sending him here; does that not tell you something is wrong? Can I also ask, when you offered to let him live here did you even think about what it would do to me? How it would affect me? Or were you just thinking about how to make more money? No wonder the boy is fucked up if he has people like you in charge of him.” I spat. I was angry; my dad was putting his career ahead of me, again.

My dad looked away ashamed and hurt by what I had said. When he spoke again his voice was softer, “Lyric, sweetie, you know you are my number one priority. I’m not trying to make more money out of him, he’s just having problems adapting to this lifestyle. I thought maybe you could understand that. I don’t really understand how his moving in affects you though?” I love my dad, I really do, but sometimes he can be so oblivious.

“Do you remember when you first got this job? I was so excited and I told everyone at school, then the next day I came home and I told you about all these new ‘friends’ I had made. Well, with Justin it will be worse because not only with I have fake bitches trying to be my friend, I’ll also lose friends. Not only that, but there will be rumours about me being spread. Did you not think about having a 17 year old boy living in the same house as your daughter when you are hardly ever here?” I could see my dad analysing what I had said.

He paused for a moment before replying, “If they leave you over something like this then they aren’t really your friends are they? They’re just more ‘fake bitches’ as you say. Ignore the posers, they don’t matter. I thought very hard about having Justin live here, yes. I trust you though, I trust you not to do anything you don’t want to.” Sometimes my dad could be the reasonable one. Sadly today was one of those days.

I knew my argument had been lost, but I was unwilling to let my dad know he was right, “Whatever dad, I’m going to bed.” I sighed and continued my walk up the stairs, leaving my dad staring after me as I went. It was going to be a long week.