Justin Bieber

by Justin Bieber

  “Some people fail the test because they didn’t look at the rule book.”

  “Dude. I won’t fail the test.”

  So I went and failed the friggin’ test.

  I walked in the door, fully expecting to walk out with a driver’s permit, hop in the driver’s seat and begin my life as a free man. Instead, I stood there staring at the woman behind the counter, trying not to hear what she was saying.

  “Oopsy,” she smiled. “Close but no cigar. You missed it by one question.”

  “What? No... no way.”

  She handed me a piece of paper that was not a driver’s permit.

  “Take a little time to review these correct answers and come back in thirty days.”

  “Thirty days?”

  Was she kidding me? I didn’t even know what country I’d be in thirty days from then. All I knew was I’d be thirty days older. With no driver’s permit.

  I mumbled some kind of thank you, shoved my shades on my face, and pulled my hood as low as I could. Mom was waiting out in the lobby area, and she didn’t have to ask me what happened on the way out.

  “Oh, Justin... it’s okay. It’ll be fine. You can take it again—”

  “Let’s just go,” I hissed.

  Outside in the parking lot, it was pouring down rain, and Mom dove into the car. In the driver’s seat. Screw this, man. C’mon. This was so freaking unfair. I couldn’t stand it. I started walking. Walking ten miles in the rain seemed easier than getting in the passenger seat when my whole heart was set on driving home.

  “It felt like every car that drove by was taunting me”

  Mom opened her window a crack and yelled, “Justin! You’re getting drenched. Get in the car.”

  But I felt like I was going to cry, and there was no way I was getting in that friggin’ passenger seat, bawling like a ten-year-old. She kept calling out for me as I walked to the corner of the parking lot and stood by the street. It felt like every car that drove by was taunting me.

  Nee-nur, nee-nur. We can drive, and you can’t!

  Some girl drove by, yakking on her cellphone and putting on mascara as she weaved down the boulevard, but she sure as heck had a driver’s license, didn’t she? A little old lady passed by doing twelve miles per hour. She could barely see over the steering wheel of her Cadillac, but she obviously had no problem passing the stinking test. Some big dude cruised by in a pickup truck, smoking a cigarette, which he tossed out onto the street as if the world was his friggin’ ashtray. He gets to drive, and I don’t?

  “Aaugh! I hate you!” I bellowed after him. It felt so good, I bellowed at the next guy. “I hate you, too! And I hate you! And I hate you! I hate you!”

  Mom sat in the car while I vented my frustration on the traffic. Every once in a while, she’d crack the window and call, ‘“Justin, that’s enough. Justin? Seriously. Get in the car – now.”

  I finally got in, soaking wet. Justin Bieber, world’s newest pop star without a driver’s permit. Later that day, Scooter and Kenny came to take me somewhere, and I told him, “This blows.”

  “Yeah, it does,” he said. “Thirty days goes fast, though. You’ll get it next time.”

  “I failed it by one question, and when I looked at the answers – this one right here – I know I had this one right.” I pulled the crumpled paper from my hoody. “When permitted to turn right at a red light, you should (a) proceed to turn right, (b) slow down before making the right turn, or (c) come to a complete stop, then proceed with the right turn.”

  “Dude, you come to a complete stop and then turn,” said Scooter.

  “What? That’s bull! Nobody ever comes to a complete stop.”

  “Well, they’re supposed to.”

  “You never stop.”

  “Yes, I do. I always stop.”

  “Dude, I’ve been in the car with you ten million times, and never once did you come to a complete stop before turning right.”

  “That’s true, man,” Kenny said helpfully. “You never stop, Scooter.”

  “Well, that’s – I’m just – okay, but it doesn’t matter what I do,” said Scooter. “What matters is the law, and the law is that you come to a complete stop, and now you know that. You’ll take the test again, and maybe take a look at the book next time.”

  “There’s always so much laughter at the end of the road”

  I shoved the paper back in my pocket, thinking, Dang! Why didn’t I study for the freakin’ test? But out loud, I said, “This is bull, man. This blows.”

  “I know,” said Scooter. “I failed it my first time, too.”

  “I failed it three times,” said Kenny. “Fourth time was the charm.”

  Scooter and I looked at him for a minute, and then we all fell out laughing our heads off.

  “Four times,” said Scooter. “I admire your tenacity, Kenny. If that was me I’d still be riding a bicycle.”

  We couldn’t stop laughing. I guess the lesson I learned from that day is that no matter how bad I think things might be, there’s always some laughter at the end of the road. You’ve just got to look for it.

  PUNKED

  I took the test thirty days later and got the permit, so it was cool in the end, but what was not cool was my voice when I woke up the morning after yelling at traffic in the rain. I could hardly talk, let alone sing. I could barely croak. Any time I get sick or my voice gets wrecked from horsing around at a party or screaming my lungs out at a basketball or hockey game, everybody acts like it’s the end of the world. Mama Jan comes in and takes over.

  “Voice rest. Not a word.”

  She lays down the law, and she’s not kidding. I’m not allowed to talk or sing at all until she says it’s okay. Then she works with me like a drill sergeant until everything’s back to normal. Meanwhile, Scooter and his team have to scramble around and reschedule everything I was supposed to be doing as far as interviews or recording or anything like that is concerned.

  This particular time, I was supposed to have done this celebrity playlist thing for YouTube, and the person we’d promised to do it for was kind of bent out of shape when Scooter called to tell her it wasn’t happening. We were coming up on the release date for My World 2.0, and we needed everyone in our corner, so Scooter told her, “It’s cool. We’ll work something out.”

  Later that day, he came over and said, “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You know how kung fu movies are dubbed over in English? Like the skinny little guy’s mouth is moving and this big, growling voice is coming out, but it doesn’t match up. You just sit there in the chair and move your lips, and I’ll do the voice.”

  “I could hardly talk let alone sing”

  “Yeah, man, that’s—”

  “Shut up! No talking.”

  “But what are you going to say?”

  “I’ve got the list you made. I’ll just come up with something.”

  I nodded. A rep from Def Jam set up the camera, and I parked myself in a chair across the room from Scooter, who had my playlist of favorite videos in hand. On cue, I made a kung foo face and moved my mouth, and Scooter did his growling voiceover.

  “Thank you for watching the premiere of my new video ‘Never Let You Go.’ Now we will go to my celebrity playlist. Number one, you’ve already seen it. ‘Never Let You Go.’ The next video... ah, the great CHUCK NORRIS, roundhouse kicking champion. He’s fighting a bear. Who fights a bear? Only CHUCK NORRIS. The bear ran away. I love this video. Next video. Cody crying. Ah, young Padawan Cody. She cried because she could not see me the entire day. I met her later on. You can find that on YouTube, too, but, for now, watch her cry. Crying is music to my ears. The next video... hold on. Let me remember what it is.”

  Scooter looked at the list but couldn’t read my sloppy handwriting. He showed it to the rep and said, “What is it?”

  “We love to punk each other”

  She managed to squeak, “Legaci.” On camera, I was dying, trying not to laugh.

  “Ah. The next video is my new backgr
ound singers, Legaci. They were discovered by me, Justin Bieber, by singing my song ‘Baby.’ Check them out. It’s actually pretty good. I like them. I will not slay them.”

  The rep and I cracked up laughing, so we had to stop for a minute.

  “Dude, no laughing,” Scooter said. “Knock it off.”

  “Okay. I’m good.”

  “No talking!”

  “Fine!”

  “Shut up!”

  I rolled my eyes, and the rep started recording again.

  “Hi. I am Justin Bieber, and I am back. I was just working out.”

  I started to lose it again, but Scooter was looking at me like Do. Not. Laugh.

  “I’m going to give you one more great video for my celebrity playlist. This one is of the biggest snakes in the world. It is a great video. Watch it till the end. It will slay you. Now. Make sure you buy my new album, My World part 2.0. It is... the ish. Get out of my face. I am Justin Bieber. The master. Vlaaaugh!”

  Cut. Cut. Cut. We were laughing so hard.

  Sorry, Mama Jan, I couldn’t help it. That was awesome.

  As much as we love to punk each other, we laugh a lot about the crazy stuff that gets spread around (sometimes in fun, sometimes not) to punk me and my fans. Usually, we laugh it off, but every once in a while I’ve just gotta say something...

  LET THE MUSIC BEGIN

  HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT

  TUESDAY, JUNE 22, 2010

  8:30 PM

  The XL Center is rockin’ with noise and energy. The Stunners light it up, and Sean Kingston burns it down. Backstage in my dressing room, I’m drumming my hands on my lap. The words to my latest single keep playing in my head.

  * * *

  I never thought that I could walk through fire

  Never thought that I could take a burn

  Never had the strength to take it higher

  Until I reached the point of no return...

  * * *

  Ryan says, “It’s time.”

  My team gather in a tight huddle. Mom thanks God for all the blessings that have poured out on us. Mama Jan prays that my voice will be empowered with love. I pray for the safety of me and my dance crew and everyone above and below the stage. Dan leads us in ancient Hebrew prayer Scooter taught us.

  “Sh’ma Yis’ra’eil Adonai Eloheinu Adonai echad.” (Hear, oh Israel, that the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.)

  We head for the stage entrance, Kenny and Scooter blazing the trail. Mom is two steps behind us. Even when I can’t see her, I know she’s there. Usher walks beside me, one strong hand on my shoulder. He leans in close to my ear so I can hear him over the jet-engine scream of twenty thousand fans.

  “First step to forever, man.”

  And then my music begins.

  THANK YOU

  This is just the beginning. Thanks for making a small town kid’s dreams come true. Never Say Never. Love you.

  About the Author

  Born in Stratford, Ontario, Justin Bieber is a multi-talented pop/soul singer and a self-taught musician. After spotting his performances on YouTube, music manager Scooter Braun introduced Justin to the music industry and later joined forces with superstar Usher to sign thirteen-year-old Justin to a record deal with Island Def Jam Music Group.

  His first album, My World, was certified platinum within three months of its release and went on to be the first debut album ever to have seven songs chart on the Billboard Top 100. His latest album, My World 2.0, debuted at #1 on the charts and has gone on to sell more than five million copies worldwide and still counting. This #1 debut made Justin the youngest male solo artist to top the Billboard chart since Stevie Wonder in 1963.

  Visit Justin Bieber online at

  www.bieberfever.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

  Copyright

  Justin Bieber: First Step 2 Forever: My Story

  Text copyright © 2010 by Bieber Time Books LLC

  Photography copyright © 2010 by Robert Caplin

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  www.harpercollinschildrens.com

  EPub Edition © September 2010 ISBN 978-0-06-203975-0

  * * *

  Library of Congress catalog card number: 2010936048

  * * *

  First U.S. edition, 2010

  COMMON DENOMINATOR Written by Justin Bieber & Lashaunda Carr. Published by Bieber Time Music/Universal Music Corporation (BMI) and G2G/Script Squad Music Publishing/Bughouse Music Inc. (BMI). All rights reserved. Used by permission.

  UP Written by Justin Bieber, Nasri Atweh & Adam Messinger. Published by Bieber Time Music/Universal Music Corporation (BMI), Trey Ball Music / Sony/ATV Songs LLC (BMI). All rights reserved. Used by permission.

  U SMILE Written by Arden Altino, Justin Bieber, Jerry Duplessis & Dan Rigo. Published by Bieber Time Music/Universal Music Corp. (BMI); Big R Music/EMI April Music (ASCAP); Te Bass Music/EMI Blackwood Music Inc. (BMI) and Sony/ATV Songs LLC (BMI). All rights reserved. Used by permission.

  DOWN TO EARTH Written by Carlos Battey, Steven Battey, Justin Bieber, Mason Levy, Waynne Nugent & Kevin Risto. Published by Apartment Four Publishing/ Bieber Time Publishing/Universal Music Corporation (ASCAP); Artist Publishing Group West/Mason Levy Productions/WB Music Corp. (ASCAP); Break North Music/ Waynne Writers/Sony ATV Tunes LLC (ASCAP). All rights reserved. Used by permission.

  LOVE ME Written by Nina Persson & Peter Svensson. Published by Universal Songs of Polygram International, Inc (BMI). All rights reserved. Used by permission.

  ONE LESS LONELY GIRL Written by Sean Hamilton, Shin Hyuk, Ezekiel Lewis, Bale Wa M Muhammad & Usher Raymond. Published by EMI Blackwood Music Inc., Ezekial Lewis Music/Songs of Universal Inc. (BMI); Adrawn Music Publishing/LA Reid Songs/EMI April Music Inc. (ASCAP). All rights reserved. Used by permission.

  NEVER SAY NEVER Written by Nasri Atweh, Justin Bieber, Thaddis Harrell, Adam Messinger, Omarr Rambert & Jaden Smith. Published by Colpix Music Inc./O Banga Music/Tre Ball Music/Sony ATV Songs LLC (BMI); Bieber Time Music/Universal Music Corporation (BMI) and New Columbia Pictures Music Inc./ Sony/ATV Tunes (ASCAP). All rights reserved. Used by permission.

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