If I Was Your Boyfriend

Justin’s Point of View

It took me at least twenty minutes to realize what was happening and that she was gone. I run out to the street to see no sign of her. We’re over. We’re over. The words hit me like a bulldozer and stuck. I speed the entire way to the apartment and run upstairs. Rocky hasn’t greeted me yet so he was gone. A box sat in the middle of the bedroom. I drop to my knees in front of it taking the charm bracelet from the top. Inside of the box was every gift I have ever given her. Shirts, hoodies, and beanies that she claimed to be hers were now in the box. On the bed was a crumbled piece of paper. Was this supposed to be a goodbye note? This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be over. It could not be over. My knees were wobbling uncontrollably just as my hands shook. I could literally feel my entire body trembling as I get in my car. I call Chrissy’s phone only to be ignored. For the twentieth time in an hour. All I’m probably doing is pissing her off big time. I just wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to hear her tell me everything is okay. That we’re okay. The lump in my throat swells so drastically I couldn’t breathe properly.

‘Chrissy.’ I hit the steering wheel, hard. Hurting my own hand in the process. Obviously not one of my brighter ideas.

That’s all it took. Just her name. I lost it. I break down in a full on sob like some kind of baby. I didn’t care. The tears wouldn’t stop falling and I hated it. My vision blurred horribly from the salty tears. I can’t cope with the thought of never seeing her again. Never touching her again. Never holding her in my arms again. Never kissing her lips again. She was gone and never coming back. The look in her eyes. She meant it. I’ve tried my absolute hardest not to screw up this relationship or let anything taint it. I didn’t try hard enough. I didn’t fight long enough. I should’ve kept her there. I should’ve begged her to stay with me and to fight for what we have with me. A loud trunk honks at me bringing me back into attention. I slipped into the opposite lane with on coming traffic. I slam on the brake throwing my hands on the steering wheel. I skid into an empty field crashing into a fence. The sound of splitting wood feels my ears and I was going through it before I knew it causing the airbag to burst out. The airbag smacks me right in the face sending me back into the seat. The back of my head harshly meets the headrest. I hold my head as I roll out of my Range Rover to inspect the damages. It was scratched up pretty bad and dinted in but far from totaled. I think the fence took it worse than the car. Thank God I wasn’t in the Fisker it would’ve been so much worse. People from the highway were already pulling off the road and hurrying over including the guy in the truck.

‘Are you alright?’ some woman asks with her phone in her hand, ‘I’ve called for an ambulance.’

‘Thanks.’ I reply wiping my face getting my license from my wallet.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you to run off the road, you were just in the wrong lane. I don’t know if you fell asleep or you had been drinking or what…’ the man from the trunk rambles on and on.

‘No.’ I cut him off and my aching head thanks me, ‘it was completely my fault. I take full responsibility.’

By now the owner of the house inside the fence made their way across the field. A tall slender man dressed in a plaid shirt was followed by a small girl with pigtails. She lets out a small gasp, from the fence or me. I really don’t know. I could hear the ambulance in the far distance getting closer and closer.

‘I’m really sorry about the fence. It was my fault and I’ll pay for the damages.’ I say before he could open his mouth.

His facial expression softens as he shakes my hand firmly.

‘Are you alright?’ he wonders.

‘I’m fine.’

The little girl is staring past the fence at me. I ended up signing her tee shirt waiting for the ambulance. Three paramedics jump from the car and rush over to me. The police were right behind them. Immediately I was bombarded with questions asking if I had been drinking.

‘What had you so distracted?’ the police officer asks eyeing me.

‘I was upset because my girlfriend dumped me.’ I blurt squeezing the bridge of my nose. ‘Okay? I’m not drunk. I’m not high. I wasn’t texting. I wasn’t on my phone period. I wasn’t under the influence. I was full on sobbing when I swerved onto the other lane. Completely reckless and I could’ve hurt someone or myself. I know.’

Paps had made their way out to the scene with their large cameras perfect for zooming in.

‘Sell it! To the Internet, to a magazine, to a gossip show. I don’t care. My girlfriend and I aren’t together anymore. You heard it here first folks. Chrissy Thorton dumps Justin Bieber – there’s your headline.’

‘Sir, we really need to check and see if everything’s okay.’ One of the paramedics chimes in cutting off the police officer.

‘Okay.’ The officers finally backed off before talking with one another.

I was taken to the back of the ambulance where they made me sit down. It was cold inside of it for some reason. They had all kinds of things neatly hanging on the small inside walls. I stare past the woman and through the glass square of the ambulance. My black Range Rover sat there empty and abandoned. Kind of like me I guess. I’ll need to call a tow truck to come back for it soon. I could hear Tony, my cars’ mechanic now.

If you take care of your car, your car will take care of you.

‘We’re going to take you to the hospital so we can run some tests.’ One paramedic says. I’m not sure who but I didn’t really care either.

‘Whatever.’ I shrug laying back in the chair.

I didn’t have an ounce of energy to protest so I just went with it. My head was pounding like never before. All of their voices sounded like they were bouncing around my head.

‘Is there anyone you want us to call?’

‘Nope.’

I wanted to say Chrissy but she wouldn’t show. She could honestly care less about what happens to me right now. I don’t feel like answering anyone’s questions at the moment either. I know Scooter and my mom would ask a thousand and one questions about what happened.

‘Alright. Hang tight, we’re on our way to the hospital.’

As if I had anywhere else to go or be.

The apartment?

I’m pretty sure she’s not back and that she took Rocky with her. Just the thought of being in the apartment alone without her hurts. That place is supposed to be ours and now any evidence of her being there is gone. Being in the hospital definitely sounds better right now. Before I knew they were helping me back out of the ambulance. The walk to a back room seemed to take forever and it was painfully silent.

‘The doctor will be in soon.’

‘Thanks.’ I hear myself reply.

I touch my pockets to only feel fabric. Great, I left my phone back in the Range Rover. Just great. I assume the word’s got out by now. The doctor comes in with a few nurses behind him.

‘How’s your head feeling?’ he asks curiously sitting down on one of those small stools with the wheels.

‘I have the worst headache.’

‘I’m just going to see something.’ He says before raising a bright light right in my face.

I wince at the glimpse of it.

‘Paramedics said that you might have hit your head.’

‘I did. When the airbag deployed.’

‘Justin what’s today?’

‘Saturday.’

‘When’s your birthday.’

‘March 1st.’

‘What’s your last name?’

‘Bieber.’

‘Where were you born?’

‘Canada.’

‘What was the first question I asked you?’

‘What’s my last name?’

‘And have you been feeling slow or sluggish within the last hour?’

‘Yeah I guess now that you mention it.’

‘Just as I thought, I’m afraid you have a concussion.’

‘A concussion? How is that even possible?’

‘When you had such a hard impact with the headrest.’

‘How long does this last?’

‘A few hours or maybe a couple of days. Don’t worry about it too much, relax, take it easy, and you should be fine.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Call the office if you have any problems.’

‘Will do.’

I make my way back to the front of the lobby where I face another dilemma. I had no car and I was at this hospital. On top of all that I left my phone in the car that needed to be towed. Just fantastic. I didn’t know much numbers by heart on account that I always had my phone.

‘Ma’am.’ I say dragging myself to the front desk, ‘could you call me a cab?’

‘Right away.’

I thank her before finding a seat in the waiting room. I couldn’t help but think of how I was in the waiting room a week or so ago with Chrissy. I remember being so scared that she couldn’t breathe or something. Ironic. I feel like I can’t breathe now. The knot in my throat has yet to go away. I waited for about twenty minutes before a bright yellow taxi stops right in front of the doors.

‘Thanks again.’ I wave standing to my feet.

I trudge my way out of the hospital and into the back of the taxi. It was late here in Los Angeles. Bright lights everywhere. Not good for someone with a concussion. The back of the taxi was cool and surprisingly relaxing. The man had a colorful pair of dice hanging on his rear view mirror, cliché. I close the squeaky door and fasten my seat belt. The seats were slightly tattered but comfortable.

‘Where to sir?’

‘Anywhere but home.’