"Don't try that, Bieber."

                                    

                                          
Brooklyn
                          
I switched the light of the bathroom off after I had taken a shower and changed into a pair of green sweat shorts and a white t-shirt with ¾ green sleeves. I carried my dirty clothes to the washing machine and said my goodnight’s to everyone in the house before coming back to my room.
                          
“Don’t go to sleep too late!” My mom called from the living room, where she was working on her designs.
                          
“I won’t!” I shouted from my door, closing it afterwards.
                          
I took a glance at my bedside table clock to see it was still 9 pm so I might as well do something until I get sleepy. I searched through my DVD’s, looking for something I felt like watching. The Last Song appeared before my eyes and I smirked stupidly to myself. Why not watch it for the 20th time? I’m always in the mood for some Liam Hemsworth.
                          
I turned the TV on and introduced the DVD in the slot, making the screen go blue. I pressed the ‘play’ button and lay down on my bed, relaxing on top of the soft mattress and adjusting the cushions and pillows behind my back.
                          
Tap. Tap. Tap.
                          
I pressed ‘stop’ on the remote control upon hearing a distracting noise. I frowned when it stopped and I thought it must have been my imagination so I put the movie on ‘play’ again.
                          
Tap. Tap. Tap.
                          
Sighing frustrated, I paused the movie for the second time, cursing whatever had interrupted my tranquil night. I glanced around the room for any signs of something that could have fallen or be out of place. Nada. Maybe in the bathroom?
                          
I stood up annoyed and aimed to walk inside when the tapping started once more. It didn’t come from the bathroom, but from my right. I cautiously turned my head and my heart nearly leaped from my mouth when I saw a figure standing outside my window. Scooting closer, I recognized Justin leaning against the glass, holding a hand to his forehead. I quickly lifted the window.
                          
“What the hell are you doing here, Justin?” I whispered/yelled so my family wouldn’t hear.
                          
“It’s nice to see you too, Brooke. Can I come in?” He raised his brows slightly and winced when doing so. That’s when I noticed a red substance pouring from somewhere in his forehead and falling down his hand and onto his white t-shirt. Blood.
                          
I gasped. “Oh my gosh!” Quickly, I stepped aside to let him climb inside my room and closed the window to prevent any more cold air from slipping in.
                          
“What the hell happened to you?” I breathed out, horrified. He didn’t reply. “Sit down.” I ordered and locked my door. He sat on the edge of my bed, dropping his black jacket casually next to him. I started smelling a salty, oxide, metallic substance. I almost gagged. I can’t tolerate blood but I can’t throw up now. Not when there’s someone in my room bleeding to death.
                          
“Wait a second.” I put my index finger up and rushed into the bathroom, nearly shaking. I got some cotton balls, a towel wet with water and alcohol and got out.
                          
Justin hadn’t moved an inch. I tentatively pulled his hand from his forehead only to be met with a gash, at least a couple of inches long that was gushing with blood. “Holy cow.” I mumbled astonished.
                          
Justin chuckled but stopped when I glared at him. How can he be so calm when he’s in this state? How can he turn up at my window, bleeding and not giving me an explanation as to why?
                          
I cleaned the injury with the wet towel, taking away the blood only to have it coming out again seconds later. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Meanwhile, he cleaned his bloody hand in his t-shirt. I rolled my eyes. Once his forehead and face were clear of the red, sticky liquid, I proceeded to dab a cotton ball damp in alcohol across it in order to disinfect it.