Justin Bieber (12 page)

Everybody falls out laughing, and he switches to
Mike Tyson.

“I jutht want to thay... Juthtin Bieber hath made me one leth lonely guy.”

“Obama! Scooter, do Obama.” He tries to wave it off and walk away, but I get the crowd chanting, “Obama! Obama! Obama!”

“Well, as you know, it’s all about change. My lovely daughters, Sasha and Malia, are big fans of this guy right here. And I gotta tell ya, I love the Bieb.”

We do some Q&A. It’s mostly the usual questions, but I don’t mind, because everyone is in such a great mood. The energy is already building.

Scooter waves his hand at the back of the group.

“Yes, you. Old guy back there. You had a question?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Do you have any special guests coming tonight?”

“Well, let’s see,” I reply. “I’ve got my mom here, of course, and my grandpa and grandma. And then there’s my good friend—”

Before I can say Usher’s name, the crowd catches sight of him coming out on stage behind me. The place goes bananas. Usher gives me a sideways bro hug. We do one of our famous secret handshakes. He waves before he goes backstage to crazy applause.

Dan and I wrap things up. The VIP fans head to a reception upstairs. The arena is quiet for the moment. Under the stage Usher and I sit on the edge of a ramp, talking quietly.

“The successful journey starts with the first step,” he tells me. “And obviously that first step is the hardest. It’s a lot to ask of someone so young to take on such an incredible feat. You’ve got to pace yourself. Enjoy yourself. Go out there and know that all this hard work has paid off, and this is the moment for you to enjoy it.”

“I will,” I reply. “Everybody’s been busting on me all week about voice rest, but we need to rehearse. I want everything to go right. I don’t want to let anybody down.”

“You know the energy of this entire family. Everything’s very loose, very organic, a lot of love. We’re trying to care for you. Obviously your voice is the most important part. They can’t listen to the music when they’re watching you dance, so we’ve got to protect that voice, and that’s really why I wanted to be here for the first run. I want to make sure you understand that you’ve got to pace yourself. It’s not gonna all happen over one show. Think about the eighty-five shows coming up.”

“That’s all I’ve been thinking about, man. Are you kidding? Eighty-five shows in six months. I get it.”

“Eighty-five seems very big. Intimidating. But the first step is the reality of it coming to an end someday. And when you get to number eighty-five you’ll be so seasoned, you’ll be recognized then as being a forever artist – not a flash in the pan – and the next step is a major world tour. This is the first step to forever, man. It’ll go as far as you want to. But you have to be smart. You’ll have to pace yourself onstage and in life.”

That was a tough lesson for me to learn when I was trying to break into this business. Patience. Pacing. But we made it happen. After that “With You” video with the bad hair and Bart Simpson’s crotch, the next video we posted to my YouTube channel was me singing for Usher in February of 2008.

The way this all happened kind of reminded me of
Horton Hears a Who!
Scooter is the elephant, trying to tell all the kangaroos and cockatoos in the music business that there are a zillion fans out there, but nobody would believe him for the longest time. He decided we needed some star power on our side. We needed to go into these record-label meetings with somebody who had some flash and could give that stamp. Scooter knew two guys who were perfect for this job: Justin Timberlake and Usher. They’d both made it big as teens, and then went on to make the successful transition to major stars as adults. They’re both nice
guys, who get big respect from label executives. We managed to get both of them to look at the videos on YouTube, which by now really demonstrated how much I was growing – physically and vocally – and how many fans were just waiting for me to put something out there.

Usher said to Scooter, “Where has this kid been? Why haven’t I seen him?”

“You did,” said Scooter. “That was him in the parking lot that day. Remember? He wanted to sing for you.”

“Man, everybody wants to sing. How was I supposed to know he’s the real thing?”

Timberlake had the same reaction. Both he and Usher
were interested in meeting me right away. There was no way Mom and I could keep our feet on the ground now. It was like, Usher and Timberlake want to meet me? Are you kidding? There was no point in trying to tell anyone at school about this. It would be like telling them I was going to meet CHUCK NORRIS, and we all know that guy is untouchable. I mean, c’mon. It’s CHUCK NORRIS. He doesn’t need Twitter, he’s already following you.

Two weeks before my fourteenth birthday, Mom and I flew to Atlanta to meet Usher. I stood there in my Toronto Maple Leafs hoody and sang “You Got It Bad” for him. He sat there in his leather jacket and listened. We sat around and talked for a while, and he was one of the coolest people I’d ever met. He gives off this great, calm, friendly vibe that just makes you feel glad to be there. Mom liked him a lot, and we were both over the moon when Scooter told us he wanted me to come back so we could talk about possible ways to work together, but Scooter told him, “We still have to have this conversation with Timberlake. I promised I’d bring the kid to meet him.”

We met up with Justin Timberlake at his place in Memphis. Jessica Biel was there. Scooter practically had to put his hands over my eyes to make me stop looking at her. Timberlake arrived, and I sang “Cry Me a River” for him.

“It takes a lot of balls to sing me my own song,” he said.
But I guess he liked me, because he wanted to move forward with a deal and we spent the rest of the afternoon just hanging out watching March Madness basketball together. Timberlake was and still is just an amazing talent, and someone to this day I look up to and study his career. It was so surreal that he wanted to do a deal with me, just a kid from a small town in Canada. And so did Usher.

I couldn’t believe things were finally coming together. I was almost afraid to believe it. The only thing I can compare it to is when I bungee-jumped off a bridge in New Zealand not long ago. It was a long journey to get there, but, at the last minute, there I was. Standing there. Ready. I had no idea what this was going to be like, but I knew it was going to be awesome.

Mom and I few down to Atlanta again, and Usher put us up in a super-fancy hotel that was like a different universe from anywhere I’d ever been. There were phones by the toilet and a safe in a drawer. The refrigerator was stocked with everything kids love to eat, and there was a huge basket of toys in my room. I got out a Rubik’s Cube and worked it out in about three minutes. (There’s a trick to it.) When I handed it to Usher, he looked at Scooter and said, “Who is this kid?”