Justin Bieber (11 page)

People seem to think I met Usher totally by chance in a parking lot in Atlanta, and twenty minutes later I had a record deal. In fact, it was almost a year before I saw Usher again. He totally blew me off, said hello to Scooter and walked into the building to see whoever he was there to see. To this day I still tease Usher about it. He told somebody later he thought I was Scooter’s little cousin or something. Ha ha.

As Usher went inside, Scooter looked at me like... Dude!

But he said not to sing for Jermaine Dupri. He never said
anything about Usher. We went in and met up with JD and played some video games. Every once in a while, I had this great vision of myself telling Chaz and Ryan, “So there I was chillin’ with m’boyz at the studio...” Mom was still on high alert, not ready to believe any of this was actually going to go anywhere. We were just goofing around, and I went off on Nelly’s rap from “Grillz,” a big song he did with Dupri.

At first, they laughed. It was probably weird to see this little white kid doing Nelly, but then Jermaine said, “Hold on, hold on. I gotta go get my camera.”

He came back and made me do the whole thing again so he could video it.

“That was extraordinary,” he said when I finished. “That was crazy. What is this kid – a baby Scooter?”

He laughed in pure amusement – I could tell he and Scooter had a close relationship and that he was enjoying this encounter, but not as much as I was. I mean c’mon, I’m just a kid from Stratford, Ontario, and here I am meeting Jermaine Dupri!

“What he really does is sing,” said Scooter.

Jermaine said, “This I gotta hear.”

“No, man, not today,” said Scooter. “He just flew in, and I really haven’t had a chance to—”

I let loose a little bit of Boyz II Men. Once again, Scooter just looked at me. Dude!

Jermaine gave Scooter a look.

“It’s not going to happen yet, buddy,” Scooter said, laughing and smiling.

I could tell from Scooter’s face that it was time to go, that this wasn’t part of his plan. Over the years Scooter and me have learned to work in synergy, but we were just starting out together at this point. We went back to the car.

“We’re not taking any shortcuts,” Scooter said. “We’re going to plan this carefully and do it right.”

“I don’t know about all this,” said Mom. “I just... I wish I knew more about this business. I wish I knew more about you as a person. I mean, you’re asking to become a major part of my son’s life, a consistent role model. I can’t allow that without some kind of... I don’t know.”

“Would it help if you met my family?” asked Scooter.

“Yeah. Actually it would. I’d feel a lot more comfortable.”

“My dad is actually passing through Atlanta tomorrow on his way home from this kite-boarding thing. You’ll like him a lot. My dad made me a man. He’s my best friend, but I respect him. You’ll see. If I’m half the man my dad is, I’m okay.”

The next day, we went to an airport restaurant and met Scooter’s dad: Dr. Ervin Braun, a dentist with a flair for extreme sports. Scooter’s mom is an orthodontist with a flair for the creative arts. Mom decided this Scooter guy in the purple pimpmobile was okay after all. He had a strong Jewish faith. His family were loving, rock solid and successful. Sure he was young, but he was polite and super-motivated. He knew a lot about the business. And he believed in me.

We were in Atlanta for only a few days, but before we left we formed a plan: we’d continue putting videos up on YouTube, racking up stats and refining what I was doing. Scooter had a lot of ideas about songs I could be singing as well as a strategy on how to present them and involve the growing fan base. They were all songs I loved, so I was completely on board with that. Over the next few months, we’d record new videos and load them up, and Mom and Scooter would stay up all night, watching the numbers climb, counting the honors.

We spent Christmas 2007 at Grandpa and Grandma’s like always. New Year’s Eve, we sat there wondering what 2008 would bring.

“I think you should do ‘With You,’” Scooter told me. “That thing is on fire right now, and I know you can murder it.”

I thought that was a great idea. I loved that song, so it didn’t take me long to learn it, and I couldn’t wait for Mom to video it. Unfortunately, I’d just gotten the ugliest haircut of my life the day before. My trademark swoosh was hacked off into this squarish situation that kind of reminded me of Bart Simpson. Which was appropriate, because Mom shot the video in my room at Grandpa and Grandma’s with the poster of Bart Simpson on the wall behind me. Except the shot is framed so you’re just looking at Bart Simpson’s crotch. And some little hockey guys. A few minutes into it, I get up and you can see a Tupac poster too, and I guess that sums up my personality – Bart Simpson and Tupac. Ha ha. I don’t mind saying, Scooter was right – I really did murder that thing. That was all I cared about. I thought I’d nailed the song and couldn’t wait for him to see it.

He was at the Grammys when Mom sent it to him, and he loved the song. But the look – well, not so much. He sent Mom a text message: “This is really good, but let’s shoot again
when his hair grows back.”

But the text got cut off. All Mom got was “This is really good,” so she loaded it up onto YouTube. By the time Scooter called to tell her to take it down, it had gotten more than 25,000 hits.

“Wow!” he said. “Well, let’s see what happens.”

In less than a month, that great song with the bad hair hit a million.

Now they all hit a million almost immediately, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am, but that first one – that was incredibly thrilling.

Mom and Scooter were putting in long nights and hardworking days. Scooter and Carin were going out by then, so poor Carin was sucked into the vortex too. Scooter was flying us down now and then to meet with one person or another, but nobody had the slightest interest in me. We were all getting frustrated. We’d put so much work into this and the YouTube hits were going through the roof, but no one in the “real-world” music industry cared about that. We kept hearing over and over, “You can’t launch a kid without a TV show. If he’s not on Nickelodeon or Disney, forget it.”

Scooter kept trying to tell people, “This kid already has
a huge fanbase. They’re out there. If we give them the records, they’ll do the rest.” But that had never been done in the music business. Everyone understood the concept of a viral video, but no one had ever used that to successfully launch a major act. With every person that said “no,” it just seemed to excite Scooter. He said that it would just make it sweeter when it happened.

“Nothing great ever came that easy,” he told me.

Talking to Scooter on the phone late at night, I told him, “We gotta make this happen. The more I think about it, the more I want it. And, if I say anything about it at school, people think I’m being a jerk.”

“They’re just jealous,” said Scooter.

“Of what? They think I’m making the whole thing up. They’re like, ‘If you’re all that, when are you gonna be on MTV, Bieber?’; ‘Hey, Bieb, aren’t you supposed to be at Neverland having lunch with Michael Jackson?’”

“Maybe they’re jealous because you have something to believe in.”

I hadn’t thought of that.

“This is going to happen, Justin,” he told me. “The only thing that can stop you is you. People who fail in this business – the really talented people, I mean – it’s never about the music. It’s about their personal lives. Stay focused and never mind any of the crap anybody says. That’s not you, that’s them. That’s the negative place they want to live in. You choose to live in a positive place.”

T
he pre-show VIP meet’n’greet is an opportunity for me to hang out with a few fans before the rest of the crowd moves in. Opening night of the tour, about two hundred beautiful girls gather right in front of the stage. My DJ, Tay James, joins me onstage and gets things going. He really knows how to light the fire. Dan comes out and we jam on a little “Crazy Train,” and then I call for Scooter.

“Give it up for my manager, Scooter Braun!”

Fans love it when I drag Scooter out. As a manager, he can solve any problem that comes up – untie any knot, fix any mistake – but he’s also one of the most creative people I’ve ever met. He does impersonations that are dead-on hilarious. The girls down front go crazy. They all know who he is.

“Scooter, come on out here. Do Schwarzenegger. Please? C’mon. Do it.”

He takes a mike and says, “Buy da ahlbum of Jostin Beebah or I break your arm off and beat you with it.”