You got a hole in you the size of the moon 5
AU Demi/Selena fic that seems to be easiest to write at this point. Demi is a rich famous celeb, Selena is a foster kid that is related to Demi's step father. I own nothing but the plot and none of this is real.
So everything is going to be a rough draft until I post it elsewhere or unfriend lock it
Demi's pov
Sitting within the confines of her room Demi stared up intently at the ceiling. There was a strange bump in the far left corner right above what used to be a desk, but had found a new purpose as her official holder of shit she didn’t really need and yet was unable to part with for some reason.
It wasn’t really all that large, like the size of a quarter or something. During the almost two hours she had spent staring at it Demi had come up with a theory as to its origin.
The previous owners of her house, some well to do celeb family that had moved on to a bigger and better gated mansion, had obviously kept their deformed unwanted and unloved child in the attic space above Demi’s room. Like all deformed unwanted and unloved children locked away in attics, because Demi had concluded this was a silent epidemic that was gripping the nation, this one had grown rather angry and in a fit of rage managed to stomp so loudly it’s foot had penetrated the dusty wooden floor in the attic. It hadn’t been able to completely bust through the material that constituted her ceiling, after all one of the big selling points of this house was the thick walls that helped to sound proof each room. This deformed unwanted and unloved child maybe hadn’t been able to break through her ceiling, but when it smashed through the attic floor its big toe had stretched through the open space between and made a small dent in her ceiling.
All of this made perfect sense.
This child was probably now in the new bigger and better gated mansion’s attic, creating new quarter sized dents in the ceiling and someday when this well to do celeb family moved yet again, another teen would spot the dents and figure it out just as she had.
The child, the poor deformed child though, by then probably a teen, would still remain in an attic somewhere though. Still unwanted and still unloved.
If Miley were beside her she would have rolled her eyes and laughed. She’d offer up a much simpler explanation like an imperfection in the drywall or the house settling. Demi would disagree, but the conversation would have moved on. Miley wasn’t beside her though and most likely never would be again so Demi had no desire to move her thoughts from the ceiling.
Especially not when the only other thing her mind would let her wander to was the tour and how fucked up everything had become.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to have played out. She wasn’t supposed to become this girl.
Her mother wouldn’t even look at her. The woman that gave birth to her, that fed and clothed her, that read her bedtime stories and bought her a piano and thought she was talented enough to take her to auditions refused to look at her.
Demi can’t blame her. Recently she’d been finding it very hard to meet her own gaze in the mirror.
It was Demi’s fault of course. Every single part of this, her downfall if you will, was her own damn fault.
This is why she was staring up at the ceiling contemplating imperfections marring its surface. This is why she was concocting stories about weird mutant children whose lives were so much worse than her own.
Because she couldn’t think about how she had royally fucked everything up. She couldn’t.
If she did…
Swallowing the weird thick lump inside her throat Demi willed her eyes back to the quarter sized bump on her ceiling. Blinking back tears she concentrated on what the unloved and unwanted child looked like. He probably had brown hair.
Her mind drew up an image that she thought looked a little like a boy version of Eddie’s niece. Maybe this child was a bit thinner around the cheeks, but still somewhat similar to the lanky teen that lived in the room beside her own.
Her bruises had faded. All the cuts and angry marks were nowhere to be seen. Demi wishes that that had been enough. That when they had disappeared so to had everything else that had happened to the girl. The white wrap around her left wrist, the nervous trembling and the girl’s inability to look anyone in the eye for more than a second remained as though no time had passed at all.
Like every other member of her family, Selena was avoiding her. Unlike every other member of her family, Selena probably wasn’t doing it because she was disappointed in her or ashamed or just angry. Truthfully the girl seemed just as confused as she had been by the family’s sudden decision to ostracize their middle child. Well maybe not, but Demi liked to imagine the girl was. That there was someone still on her side.
When Madison had run up to her all excited and happy, Demi had tricked herself into thinking maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. She had wrapped her arms as tightly as possible around the child and smiled. She hadn’t seen Eddie’s face harden or her mother’s eyes drift to the carpet. Letting out a deep breath, Demi was only concerned with holding on to her younger sister, not what was about to happen.
In fairness they were acting in Madison’s best interest. Demi found herself repeating that a lot. It made things hurt a little less.
Eddie and her mother sat her down after they had sent Madison off to go check on Selena and Demi was told not to spend any time alone with Madison. She had scoffed at first, they lived in the same house and she was her sister after all, but the two adults looking down at her did not waver in their resolve. The amused grin slid easily from her face.
The repercussions of her tour and of her actions were only just beginning.
Grinding her teeth together, Demi tried to think back to the boy in the attic. Except now it wasn’t a boy, it was a girl. It was her step cousin, still as bruised and broken as she was when she stepped out from behind the social worker.
Did she live in an attic at one point? She had certainly been unwanted and unloved. Her hand was probably a bit deformed or else the wrap would be off by now.
Madison had really taken to her or at least that’s what Demi guessed. During family dinners, which she was now forced to attend if she wanted to talk with her sister at all, the two girls seemed rather close. Of course maybe Madison only sat next to Selena and pestered her with things because she was angry with Demi. Apparently no one had told the little girl that Demi wasn’t avoiding her on purpose, that she hadn’t all but locked herself within her room because she wanted to.
Should she be angry the new girl had taken her spot? It would be so easy to blame her relationship or lack there of with her sister on Selena. If she really tried she could even make up some elaborate way that everything that was wrong in her life was some how related to the orphan living in her house.
Maybe she would.
Not right now though.
Because as of right now, Selena was the only one in her house that looked at her with something besides disappointment or anger. Demi smiled a little at the dent in the ceiling, an idea forming in her head. The other girl was probably the only one she could convince to tell Madison that she was sorry and all she wanted to do was hide away in her little sister’s room until everything was okay again.
So everything is going to be a rough draft until I post it elsewhere or unfriend lock it
Demi's pov
Sitting within the confines of her room Demi stared up intently at the ceiling. There was a strange bump in the far left corner right above what used to be a desk, but had found a new purpose as her official holder of shit she didn’t really need and yet was unable to part with for some reason.
It wasn’t really all that large, like the size of a quarter or something. During the almost two hours she had spent staring at it Demi had come up with a theory as to its origin.
The previous owners of her house, some well to do celeb family that had moved on to a bigger and better gated mansion, had obviously kept their deformed unwanted and unloved child in the attic space above Demi’s room. Like all deformed unwanted and unloved children locked away in attics, because Demi had concluded this was a silent epidemic that was gripping the nation, this one had grown rather angry and in a fit of rage managed to stomp so loudly it’s foot had penetrated the dusty wooden floor in the attic. It hadn’t been able to completely bust through the material that constituted her ceiling, after all one of the big selling points of this house was the thick walls that helped to sound proof each room. This deformed unwanted and unloved child maybe hadn’t been able to break through her ceiling, but when it smashed through the attic floor its big toe had stretched through the open space between and made a small dent in her ceiling.
All of this made perfect sense.
This child was probably now in the new bigger and better gated mansion’s attic, creating new quarter sized dents in the ceiling and someday when this well to do celeb family moved yet again, another teen would spot the dents and figure it out just as she had.
The child, the poor deformed child though, by then probably a teen, would still remain in an attic somewhere though. Still unwanted and still unloved.
If Miley were beside her she would have rolled her eyes and laughed. She’d offer up a much simpler explanation like an imperfection in the drywall or the house settling. Demi would disagree, but the conversation would have moved on. Miley wasn’t beside her though and most likely never would be again so Demi had no desire to move her thoughts from the ceiling.
Especially not when the only other thing her mind would let her wander to was the tour and how fucked up everything had become.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to have played out. She wasn’t supposed to become this girl.
Her mother wouldn’t even look at her. The woman that gave birth to her, that fed and clothed her, that read her bedtime stories and bought her a piano and thought she was talented enough to take her to auditions refused to look at her.
Demi can’t blame her. Recently she’d been finding it very hard to meet her own gaze in the mirror.
It was Demi’s fault of course. Every single part of this, her downfall if you will, was her own damn fault.
This is why she was staring up at the ceiling contemplating imperfections marring its surface. This is why she was concocting stories about weird mutant children whose lives were so much worse than her own.
Because she couldn’t think about how she had royally fucked everything up. She couldn’t.
If she did…
Swallowing the weird thick lump inside her throat Demi willed her eyes back to the quarter sized bump on her ceiling. Blinking back tears she concentrated on what the unloved and unwanted child looked like. He probably had brown hair.
Her mind drew up an image that she thought looked a little like a boy version of Eddie’s niece. Maybe this child was a bit thinner around the cheeks, but still somewhat similar to the lanky teen that lived in the room beside her own.
Her bruises had faded. All the cuts and angry marks were nowhere to be seen. Demi wishes that that had been enough. That when they had disappeared so to had everything else that had happened to the girl. The white wrap around her left wrist, the nervous trembling and the girl’s inability to look anyone in the eye for more than a second remained as though no time had passed at all.
Like every other member of her family, Selena was avoiding her. Unlike every other member of her family, Selena probably wasn’t doing it because she was disappointed in her or ashamed or just angry. Truthfully the girl seemed just as confused as she had been by the family’s sudden decision to ostracize their middle child. Well maybe not, but Demi liked to imagine the girl was. That there was someone still on her side.
When Madison had run up to her all excited and happy, Demi had tricked herself into thinking maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. She had wrapped her arms as tightly as possible around the child and smiled. She hadn’t seen Eddie’s face harden or her mother’s eyes drift to the carpet. Letting out a deep breath, Demi was only concerned with holding on to her younger sister, not what was about to happen.
In fairness they were acting in Madison’s best interest. Demi found herself repeating that a lot. It made things hurt a little less.
Eddie and her mother sat her down after they had sent Madison off to go check on Selena and Demi was told not to spend any time alone with Madison. She had scoffed at first, they lived in the same house and she was her sister after all, but the two adults looking down at her did not waver in their resolve. The amused grin slid easily from her face.
The repercussions of her tour and of her actions were only just beginning.
Grinding her teeth together, Demi tried to think back to the boy in the attic. Except now it wasn’t a boy, it was a girl. It was her step cousin, still as bruised and broken as she was when she stepped out from behind the social worker.
Did she live in an attic at one point? She had certainly been unwanted and unloved. Her hand was probably a bit deformed or else the wrap would be off by now.
Madison had really taken to her or at least that’s what Demi guessed. During family dinners, which she was now forced to attend if she wanted to talk with her sister at all, the two girls seemed rather close. Of course maybe Madison only sat next to Selena and pestered her with things because she was angry with Demi. Apparently no one had told the little girl that Demi wasn’t avoiding her on purpose, that she hadn’t all but locked herself within her room because she wanted to.
Should she be angry the new girl had taken her spot? It would be so easy to blame her relationship or lack there of with her sister on Selena. If she really tried she could even make up some elaborate way that everything that was wrong in her life was some how related to the orphan living in her house.
Maybe she would.
Not right now though.
Because as of right now, Selena was the only one in her house that looked at her with something besides disappointment or anger. Demi smiled a little at the dent in the ceiling, an idea forming in her head. The other girl was probably the only one she could convince to tell Madison that she was sorry and all she wanted to do was hide away in her little sister’s room until everything was okay again.