A conversation I had with Justin Bieber

This was three years ago. The story I wrote wasn’t so great, but this part might help explain him turning up two hours late last night.

“Does all the travel make you feel lost?” I ask.

"You’re so far away," he nods, "and you start feeling like you’re a robot. When I’m overseas the schedule is always crazy and then there’s the time change and you’re not even yourself. It’s weird."

"Do you ever feel wistful for the days before you were famous?" I ask.

At this Justin looks as if it’s all getting too introspective. “I’m a regular person,” he says hurriedly. “I’m living my dream and I’m just enjoying every minute of it.”

He shrugs as if to apologise for the downbeat, pensive tenor of the interview. He says I should be glad I’ve not got him on a bad day.

"Mike knows my bad days," he says.

"Act out what you’re like on a bad day," I say.

"OK. Ask me a question," he says.

"What do you think of that sofa?" I say.

Justin gives me a look of boredom tinged with withering hatred: “I like it,” he mutters. “Next question.” He gazes off into the distance.

A chill runs through me. “Thank God you’re not having a bad day today,” I say.

"I’ll be zoning off," he says. "I’ll be over there. I’ll not be focused on you. Good days I’ll be…" Justin leans over until he’s an inch from my face. He gives me a vast and petrifying smile.