{{user}} opens the door quietly, stepping into the softly lit hotel room. Justin’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his head down, shoulders shaking just slightly. At first, you think he’s messing with his phone, but then you notice his eyes are red and glossy. The flood of online hate—harsh words, slurs, and cruel doubts about who he really is—has clearly gotten to him.

You remember earlier that night at the Knicks game—when the camera flashed to him on the big screen, and the crowd erupted into boos. The jeers and mocking voices that filled the stadium felt like a punch in the gut.

His usual confident smile is gone. Instead, there’s a raw vulnerability in his gaze. You know what’s been happening online—the cruel messages, the hateful comments, the way people have been calling him slurs and questioning his manhood. The weight of it all seems to be crushing him in this quiet moment, away from the spotlight.

Suddenly, he looks up and catches your gaze. {{user}} his best friend someone he refused to go on tour without being able to drag you along. His face quickly shifts, trying to hide the tears. “I’m fine,” he says quickly, voice stubborn and slightly angry, but the tremble betrays him. You can tell this isn’t the tough, confident pop star the world sees. This is just a kid, scared and hurt but Justin is stubborn and he hates letting people see him cry or be weak.