fic: the hard way (4/5) - demi/selena
Title: The Hard Way (4/5)
Pairing: Selena Gomez/Demi Lovato
Rating: PG-13 (R/NC-17 for later parts)
Summary: With touring and shows and studio sessions, Selena and Demi have gone months without seeing each other. To make things complicated, Selena realizes she's in love.
Note: Boy, this one was a doozy. College and real life didn't help matters.
disclaimer: This story is lies, lies, lies. Complete fiction.
Time, fate, coincidence: none of it is really on their side. Selena makes a point of not thinking too much about it, though. Even still, it’s hard to keep the bitterness at bay as Demi’s suitcase is rolled to the car, grey skies and a slight morning chill completing the image.
There was a concert that’d been rescheduled so Demi could relax in L.A. for a few days: turns out, Sarah was going to attend said concert, and once Demi’s agent found out, the concert was inescapable. Despite everything, Selena knows this: it’s admirable to see her friend doing the right thing - Sarah is a sweet girl, a girl who doesn’t deserve the cards that have been dealt to her, and Demi is doing her part in making her day a little brighter. It seems futile to say it’s the little things, but that’s the truth of it.
This is just how things work for them.
There’s a cool breeze, a calm before the rain, but it’s Demi avoiding eye contact that leaves Selena cold. The thought creeps up on her, undeniable: this isn’t just leaving for obligations, for Sarah, for the fans, because she has to. This is Demi running away.
She hugs her, but it rings false almost - her fingers grasp limply onto the worn cotton of her shirt, and she still refuses to look her in the eye.
“Let us know when you land, okay?” Selena hears her mother say, and the hug ends, and all Demi does is nod and mumble a “goodbye” before turning and walking to the car. She pauses at the door, turns and looks back at Selena. No words. She gets into the car, and it drives away.
-
Like clockwork, there are pictures released of Demi, her concert, and Demi hugging Sarah. They’re sweet, and lack the stiffness posed shoots usually possess. Selena goes into work with the images resting easy in her mind, proud of her friend. It lasts all of a day, before more photos surface: Demi and her backup dancers, dressed up, fancy, having fun, out on the town. Like nothing is wrong when everything is. Selena has to bite down on her lip to keep from screaming.
“Honey?”
“Hmm?” Selena doesn’t look up, trying to will away the tears in her eyes. Her mom won’t let it pass, though, lifting her daughter’s chin. “What, mom?”
“Your lip.”
Selena touches a finger to her bottom lip; it stings, and when she pulls away, she finds a spot of red.
-
Taylor calls early on a Tuesday morning. “So. I heard that Demi came for a visit.”
Selena holds back a sigh - there’s a giddiness in her friend’s voice that makes everything hurt a little bit more. “You did, huh?”
“I just happened to see pictures of you two at the beach, and I waited a day before calling to, you know, remind you of how totally right I was.”
Selena doesn’t say anything. She can’t muster up the words.
“I was right, wasn’t I?” Taylor prods, less strength in her voice. “Selena?”
She sighs, and that seems to be answer enough.
“What happened?”
“I told her.”
“And?”
“Please.” Selena’s voice cracks. “Please don’t make me spell it out.”
“Sel...”
“I have to go, okay?”
“No, Sel, don’t hang - ”
Click.
The phone rings not even a second later, but Selena sends it straight to voicemail. For once, timing works in her favor, and her mom comes to get her to head to the studio for sessions.
-
She suffers, just as everybody does, from weakness. Sometimes bad choices come far too easily. She can taste the regret she’ll have in the morning as she types, yet it does little to sway her from sending a text to Demi at midnight anyways.
i’m scared.
She doesn’t sleep a wink through the night, and it’d be a lie if she said it was unexpected, remote resting in her lap, DVR stock full of unwatched shows, ready for a night of insomnia with nothing but fictional stories and her own pitying thoughts as company.
8 A.M. New York time, 5 for Selena, she finally gets a response: you know i love you no matter what, right?
I’ll love you no matter how weird and stalker-y and in love with me you get? It’s generous, but it’s not what Selena wants to hear. She’d prefer a straight rejection to this.
But that’s a lie, because with each time she rereads the text, the more it looks like a rejection.
She shuts off her phone entirely.
-
Nobody ever really told her about the crippling doubt, the fear, the constant distraction that would creep up and grab a hold of her professional life, suffocating it until it’s blue and stagnant. This is where Selena starts to lose control a little bit, and it’s what scares her the most: she feels like she’s sleepwalking through someone else’s life.
One day, she breaks down in tears, and her mom’s there, and this is one of those times where she doesn’t want some Gilmore Girls-esque conversation, to be related to, even to be comforted. She wants to be alone.
She is alone.
-
Eventually, a new week comes, and along with it, a new picture. Selena certainly likes to think that the lack of a genuine smile on Demi’s face says something, but she doesn’t hold much hope.
Later that night, before bed, she gets a text.
please don’t hate me.
-
There’s a new concert date on her schedule, she finds. A charity event that will gather all of the Disney singers together in one night to raise funds for various charities. Her agent starts talking about details, and eventually the words duet and you and Demi filter in, and Selena starts to feel a little dizzy.
The event itself is constructed by managers and agents and PR but the idea of a duet between most of the singers - Taylor and Miley, and Selena and Demi - was suggested by one of the singers herself: a Miss Taylor Swift.
The second she picks up her phone, Selena doesn’t wait for her to even say hello. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I don’t - ”
“The cat’s out of the bag, don’t even try to act like you weren’t behind this.” Selena gnaws at her bottom lip, wincing at the rawness there. “Why?”
“You know why. This was the only way to force you guys in the same room, to work things out.”
“Work things out?” Her voice is rough in her mouth, scraping along her tongue like a blade. She doesn’t like feeling like this. “We talked. I told her, Taylor, I told her everything. She just...she didn’t do anything. She left.”
“Yeah, but the one thing you haven’t mentioned is how you told her. Did you - ?”
“Look, if you’re trying to say that how I told her is why she ran off, then just come out and say it. It doesn’t matter how I told her - what matters is that I did, and this is how she responds.”
“How freaked and stressed out have you been these past few months, Sel? The truth of the matter is you’ve had time to sort through your feelings, while all Demi got was everything thrown in her face, and then having to leave you again. You know why she had to leave. She didn’t choose to, Selena. Come on...”
Her anger finally hits its brick wall, collapses into sadness. “Ugh, I know. I know. I’m...I guess I’m being a little unfair. It’s just - she hasn’t called me at all, you know. Not once.”
“Have you tried calling her?”
“I shouldn’t have to - ”
“Selena.” Taylor stops her, sighs, and bless her for having enough patience to even deal with this entire thing. “Listen to yourself.”
She doesn’t want to.
-
The day of rehearsals is inevitable, and it comes too quickly for Selena’s tastes. For once, the ache of missing Demi is replaced by the ache of seeing her - this isn’t something she wants, not now. It isn’t fear of rejection - at this point, she’s pretty clear the point of rejection has come and gone - but the wake, the aftermath. The earthquake shatters foundations, but the aftershocks are the ones that finally send the building crumbling down.
Demi’s running late. Selena isn’t surprised. Miley’s there early, and Taylor arrives at the same time as Selena, offering a literal hand for support as they walk through the back hall to get ready.
Demi shows up dressed far nicer than anyone else, and it seems incredibly deliberate on her part. Selena is suddenly very aware of how crappy she must look in her sweats. Following a month, weeks, even days, of not seeing each other, a reunion between the two usually entails screaming and flailing, but the way the situation is approached is decidedly lackluster in comparison.
“Hey, Sel...”
“Hey.” Selena isn’t one to act unprofessional, and it’s impossible to ignore that they aren’t alone when Demi approaches her, so she does her best impression of a happy smile. “How was your flight?”
“Long.” Demi’s hands fidget with one another. “How...how are you?” There’s a noticeable lack of strength to Demi’s voice, but Selena sets herself steady, refusing to waver.
“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “You?”
“Exhausted. And...well, I was actually thinking of getting something to eat after, did you...?”
“I can’t. I have Wizards after this.” It isn’t a lie, but it’s still difficult to say. She can’t really bring herself to look Demi in the eye. “Maybe some other time?”
“Yeah!” Demi says immediately, too enthusiastically. For a brief moment, she looks like she wants to hug her, but rethinks it. Selena considers it a delusional thought. “Can we talk?”
Selena looks around. Everyone is busy doing their own thing, and they’ve fallen into their own little private bubble. She knows Demi realizes this, and is grasping at the opportunity. Still, Selena bites out: “Now? You couldn’t have called earlier or-?”
“I didn’t want to talk over the phone. It felt...bigger than that. It is bigger than that.”
Her jaw is set, and yet what she says comes out garbled and uneven, and inwardly she curses herself for letting Demi get to her. “Of course it is. Let me tell you something, though: it wouldn’t have bothered me to talk on the phone. In fact, it might’ve been nice to know that you even wanted to talk to me at all.”
Demi looks like she’s been expecting her to say just that. She searches for words for a long moment before finally saying, for lack of anything else: “I’m just not very good at this, Sel”
This, this makes Selena snap. She turns to Demi sharply and continues on in a bitingly quiet whisper: “Oh, don’t even.”
Demi looks nothing short of frightened. “What - ?”
“I’m not the kind of girl who would let go of a friendship because of...whatever this is. I’m just the kind of girl who doesn’t appreciate it when her friend is acting really shitty. Every time I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, you make me regret it. You can stand here and act like you’re having a horrible time away from me, and trying to figure whatever this is out, but when there are pictures of you out there having fun and having sleepovers and acting like I don’t even exist, it’s hard for me to believe you. So, please, stop acting like you’re having trouble with this beyond it being inconvenient.”
She turns away, eyes burning with unshed tears, and is almost devastatingly thankful when Taylor swoops in to intercept before Demi can reach out to stop her.
-
The next week of rehearsals are awkward, to say the least. Selena holds onto the slightest bit of maturity she can muster and forces herself to not give Demi complete silent treatment, but ultimately the awkwardness of the situation forces them apart anyways. Only on stage do they directly interact, and even then, both are so distracted that their performances are less than subpar, and they’re forced to repeat practice-runs more than they normally would. Everything piles up and Selena can feel that moment coming, that moment where she’s just going to snap - really snap - and there will be no recovery from it.
Things are effectively different between the two of them, and people on set notice, even if these observations go unsaid. Selena prays that it doesn’t reach the public, because as much turmoil as this is causing her now, she feels a breakdown coming at the thought of their fans finding out. This is just one of those times she wishes her personal life wasn’t so easily subjected to tabloid rumors.
The day before the show, she gets frustrated and starts to leave the stage early. She can feel a rush of air along her arm and looks back to see Demi reaching out to her, concerned, but she pushes ahead anyways and goes to her dressing room.
She comes back out a half an hour later to find Demi nowhere to be seen, Taylor and Miley now occupying the stage. Selena stays and watches them, pretending to not look for Demi’s reentrance into the room the entire time. Eventually, when the two girls successfully perfect their duet, and the crew starts shifting around the equipment on stage, adjusting the lighting, and the various activity that goes on between sets starts in, Selena wanders over to Taylor’s makeshift area against the far wall, as it leads a a line across the room that lets her see down the exiting hallway. When she does, she finally sees Demi, exiting the bathroom, makeup freshly applied but eyes giving way to the redness that follows tears.
Selena would be damned if she didn’t admit her first thought was to go to her, and hug her and...
-
“So are you nervous?” Taylor asks her over frozen yogurt that night. The paparazzi linger outside, camera flashes nearly blinding them through the window, but eventually it fades into the background with the street traffic.
“About?”
Taylor nudges her like, don’t even. “Tomorrow.”
“It’ll be fine. Demi’s a natural and I’m sure I can muster up some acting skills and act like I’m totally excited about performing on stage with her.”
“Well, that too.”
“Huh?”
“I actually meant, you know, the performance in general. On stage, in front of people.” Taylor winces. “It was my poor attempt at distracting you from, you know, the other stuff.”
Selena laughs. “The other stuff. I tell you, if and when I get a biography written about me, I’m totally going to have it called Selena Gomez: The Other Stuff.”
Taylor playfully pushes her. “That was going to be the title of my biography!”
“Too slow, sadly.”
“Whatever,” Taylor smirks. She eats another spoonful of yogurt. “I’m really impressed, though, that you’re not freaking out tomorrow. It’s your first big performance, isn’t it?”
“Uh...” Selena thinks about it, and her mouth suddenly goes dry. “Yeah, yeah it is.”
In the past few weeks, her concern lied solely on interacting with Demi and what it meant and how it would look and if she was going to be able to do it, that it hadn’t occurred to her until this moment that she was going to perform. On stage. In front of people. A lot of people.
Oh, man.
-
Selena spends the better part of an hour pacing backstage. If this were a cartoon, there would be a three foot deep circle dug into the floor. Eventually, she wanders to just behind the stage, watching as everything is set up. Between the chords snaking around the floor and the lights and the mic stands, and the abundance of crew members scrambling to get everything set up so the show can go off without a hitch, there is little room left to breath. The heat of electrical units and the claustrophobic nature creates a musty heat that leaves Selena’s head spinning.
Demi proves herself to have a knack for bad timing, and chooses this moment to enter the room, tripping over the chords and nearly knocking Selena over. She apologizes profusely while they straighten, Selena being the one to deliberately take a step back, to put space between them. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Demi.
“Selena, will you please talk to me? I miss you, and these past few - ”
The bundle of nerves gathering in the pit of Selena’s stomach burst, and her patience is destroyed in the wake. “Okay, I don’t need this right now, Demi. I? I am going on stage in a few minutes and singing. In front of people. All those people. And you’re gonna be up there being great at it and I’m...” Selena runs a nervous hand through her hair, while her hair stylist weeps from across the room.
Demi makes the transition easily, a determined look in her eyes as she places both of her hands on either side of Selena and steadies her. “Hey, look at me. You’re going to be fine. You’re great at this, you’re an amazing singer, Selena.”
“Not helping.”
Demi rolls her eyes, “Learn to take a compliment, you dork! Your new stuff is amazing and this song? You’re going to rock it, okay? You’re going to go out there and you’re gonna just own me.”
“You haven’t heard my new stuff, so stop - ”
“Of course I have.”
“What...wait, really?”
“Duh. Your mom’s been sending me the cuts and everything. You think I actually have the patience to wait for it to hit stores? Yeah right.”
“I...she never told me.” Selena’s stomach does a flip, and it’s somewhere in between surprise at this discovery, and dread at the thought of Demi hearing the unpolished versions of her songs.
Demi’s hands still rest on Selena’s arms, and they start to stroke up and down, comforting. “Any time I got bummed out missing you, I’d play one of your songs. Dorky, I know, but...”
Selena feels tears gathering in her eyes, and when she speaks, her voice is quiet, on the verge of breaking. “Why didn’t you call, Demi? You left and didn’t call and - ”
“I was scared.”
“And I was what, slightly nervous?”
“You were right, you know, about me being a crappy friend.”
“You’re not - ”
“I was, I am. It’s no excuse, and you have every right to not want to talk to me. I just wish I could be better at this, at letting you know how much I miss you when we’re not together.” Demi’s grip tightens on her arms, like she’s frightened she’ll slip away if she doesn’t hold on. “When you told me those things, I...I can’t explain it.”
“Try,” Selena breathes.
“I’ve never been that scared in my entire life, Selena. And I’ve never felt better in my entire life, either. All at once, and I - it felt crazy. It didn’t feel like it was actually happening. I - ”
A production assistant chooses this moment to walk up to them. “Ladies?”
“What?!” Both Demi and Selena snap at him. He steps back, clearly frightened.
He backs away slowly. “You’re on. Five minutes.”
Selena looks at Demi, and isn’t sure which one of them is shaking the most. “Dem - ”
“You’re gonna be amazing out there, Sel.” She leans forward and kisses the apple of her cheek and lingers just long enough for all those silly hormones to wash away every last bit of anger she held towards her. Demi takes her hand. “Let’s go rock out, babe.”
-
There is a frantic energy in Demi’s performance, unpracticed and raw. Selena envies it. There is a delicious subset to the way she smiles and breathes out the words, the way her eyes wink back neon lights and her skin gleams exhausted perfection. Selena wants it. Selena wants her.
She’s on autopilot now: lyrics and words are sung and stomps her foot to the rousing beat, but her eyes are on no one in the crowd. When Demi meets her gaze, it’s electric, and Selena feels as if she’s been shocked back to life. Her pulse reverberates into her bones. She grips the mic stand tighter. Demi reaches out and wraps her hand around Selena’s, and together they sing into the microphone. Maybe the crowd goes wild, maybe the music gets louder, but in this moment, it’s only Selena and Demi, together, hand on hand.
It’s just them now.
Somewhere in time the time following the song’s climax and the explosion of cheers from the audience, they stumble backstage, drunk off the energy surrounding them.
“That was...amazing.”
Selena can barely breathe, clutching onto Demi as they make their way to the dressing room. They push the door open and everything gets a little fuzzy at this point. Selena finds herself pressed against a wall, Demi’s hands cupping either side of her face as she leans in and kisses her, kisses her hard.
And all Selena can think in this moment is: what took so long?
TBC...
Pairing: Selena Gomez/Demi Lovato
Rating: PG-13 (R/NC-17 for later parts)
Summary: With touring and shows and studio sessions, Selena and Demi have gone months without seeing each other. To make things complicated, Selena realizes she's in love.
Note: Boy, this one was a doozy. College and real life didn't help matters.
disclaimer: This story is lies, lies, lies. Complete fiction.
Time, fate, coincidence: none of it is really on their side. Selena makes a point of not thinking too much about it, though. Even still, it’s hard to keep the bitterness at bay as Demi’s suitcase is rolled to the car, grey skies and a slight morning chill completing the image.
There was a concert that’d been rescheduled so Demi could relax in L.A. for a few days: turns out, Sarah was going to attend said concert, and once Demi’s agent found out, the concert was inescapable. Despite everything, Selena knows this: it’s admirable to see her friend doing the right thing - Sarah is a sweet girl, a girl who doesn’t deserve the cards that have been dealt to her, and Demi is doing her part in making her day a little brighter. It seems futile to say it’s the little things, but that’s the truth of it.
This is just how things work for them.
There’s a cool breeze, a calm before the rain, but it’s Demi avoiding eye contact that leaves Selena cold. The thought creeps up on her, undeniable: this isn’t just leaving for obligations, for Sarah, for the fans, because she has to. This is Demi running away.
She hugs her, but it rings false almost - her fingers grasp limply onto the worn cotton of her shirt, and she still refuses to look her in the eye.
“Let us know when you land, okay?” Selena hears her mother say, and the hug ends, and all Demi does is nod and mumble a “goodbye” before turning and walking to the car. She pauses at the door, turns and looks back at Selena. No words. She gets into the car, and it drives away.
-
Like clockwork, there are pictures released of Demi, her concert, and Demi hugging Sarah. They’re sweet, and lack the stiffness posed shoots usually possess. Selena goes into work with the images resting easy in her mind, proud of her friend. It lasts all of a day, before more photos surface: Demi and her backup dancers, dressed up, fancy, having fun, out on the town. Like nothing is wrong when everything is. Selena has to bite down on her lip to keep from screaming.
“Honey?”
“Hmm?” Selena doesn’t look up, trying to will away the tears in her eyes. Her mom won’t let it pass, though, lifting her daughter’s chin. “What, mom?”
“Your lip.”
Selena touches a finger to her bottom lip; it stings, and when she pulls away, she finds a spot of red.
-
Taylor calls early on a Tuesday morning. “So. I heard that Demi came for a visit.”
Selena holds back a sigh - there’s a giddiness in her friend’s voice that makes everything hurt a little bit more. “You did, huh?”
“I just happened to see pictures of you two at the beach, and I waited a day before calling to, you know, remind you of how totally right I was.”
Selena doesn’t say anything. She can’t muster up the words.
“I was right, wasn’t I?” Taylor prods, less strength in her voice. “Selena?”
She sighs, and that seems to be answer enough.
“What happened?”
“I told her.”
“And?”
“Please.” Selena’s voice cracks. “Please don’t make me spell it out.”
“Sel...”
“I have to go, okay?”
“No, Sel, don’t hang - ”
Click.
The phone rings not even a second later, but Selena sends it straight to voicemail. For once, timing works in her favor, and her mom comes to get her to head to the studio for sessions.
-
She suffers, just as everybody does, from weakness. Sometimes bad choices come far too easily. She can taste the regret she’ll have in the morning as she types, yet it does little to sway her from sending a text to Demi at midnight anyways.
i’m scared.
She doesn’t sleep a wink through the night, and it’d be a lie if she said it was unexpected, remote resting in her lap, DVR stock full of unwatched shows, ready for a night of insomnia with nothing but fictional stories and her own pitying thoughts as company.
8 A.M. New York time, 5 for Selena, she finally gets a response: you know i love you no matter what, right?
I’ll love you no matter how weird and stalker-y and in love with me you get? It’s generous, but it’s not what Selena wants to hear. She’d prefer a straight rejection to this.
But that’s a lie, because with each time she rereads the text, the more it looks like a rejection.
She shuts off her phone entirely.
-
Nobody ever really told her about the crippling doubt, the fear, the constant distraction that would creep up and grab a hold of her professional life, suffocating it until it’s blue and stagnant. This is where Selena starts to lose control a little bit, and it’s what scares her the most: she feels like she’s sleepwalking through someone else’s life.
One day, she breaks down in tears, and her mom’s there, and this is one of those times where she doesn’t want some Gilmore Girls-esque conversation, to be related to, even to be comforted. She wants to be alone.
She is alone.
-
Eventually, a new week comes, and along with it, a new picture. Selena certainly likes to think that the lack of a genuine smile on Demi’s face says something, but she doesn’t hold much hope.
Later that night, before bed, she gets a text.
please don’t hate me.
-
There’s a new concert date on her schedule, she finds. A charity event that will gather all of the Disney singers together in one night to raise funds for various charities. Her agent starts talking about details, and eventually the words duet and you and Demi filter in, and Selena starts to feel a little dizzy.
The event itself is constructed by managers and agents and PR but the idea of a duet between most of the singers - Taylor and Miley, and Selena and Demi - was suggested by one of the singers herself: a Miss Taylor Swift.
The second she picks up her phone, Selena doesn’t wait for her to even say hello. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I don’t - ”
“The cat’s out of the bag, don’t even try to act like you weren’t behind this.” Selena gnaws at her bottom lip, wincing at the rawness there. “Why?”
“You know why. This was the only way to force you guys in the same room, to work things out.”
“Work things out?” Her voice is rough in her mouth, scraping along her tongue like a blade. She doesn’t like feeling like this. “We talked. I told her, Taylor, I told her everything. She just...she didn’t do anything. She left.”
“Yeah, but the one thing you haven’t mentioned is how you told her. Did you - ?”
“Look, if you’re trying to say that how I told her is why she ran off, then just come out and say it. It doesn’t matter how I told her - what matters is that I did, and this is how she responds.”
“How freaked and stressed out have you been these past few months, Sel? The truth of the matter is you’ve had time to sort through your feelings, while all Demi got was everything thrown in her face, and then having to leave you again. You know why she had to leave. She didn’t choose to, Selena. Come on...”
Her anger finally hits its brick wall, collapses into sadness. “Ugh, I know. I know. I’m...I guess I’m being a little unfair. It’s just - she hasn’t called me at all, you know. Not once.”
“Have you tried calling her?”
“I shouldn’t have to - ”
“Selena.” Taylor stops her, sighs, and bless her for having enough patience to even deal with this entire thing. “Listen to yourself.”
She doesn’t want to.
-
The day of rehearsals is inevitable, and it comes too quickly for Selena’s tastes. For once, the ache of missing Demi is replaced by the ache of seeing her - this isn’t something she wants, not now. It isn’t fear of rejection - at this point, she’s pretty clear the point of rejection has come and gone - but the wake, the aftermath. The earthquake shatters foundations, but the aftershocks are the ones that finally send the building crumbling down.
Demi’s running late. Selena isn’t surprised. Miley’s there early, and Taylor arrives at the same time as Selena, offering a literal hand for support as they walk through the back hall to get ready.
Demi shows up dressed far nicer than anyone else, and it seems incredibly deliberate on her part. Selena is suddenly very aware of how crappy she must look in her sweats. Following a month, weeks, even days, of not seeing each other, a reunion between the two usually entails screaming and flailing, but the way the situation is approached is decidedly lackluster in comparison.
“Hey, Sel...”
“Hey.” Selena isn’t one to act unprofessional, and it’s impossible to ignore that they aren’t alone when Demi approaches her, so she does her best impression of a happy smile. “How was your flight?”
“Long.” Demi’s hands fidget with one another. “How...how are you?” There’s a noticeable lack of strength to Demi’s voice, but Selena sets herself steady, refusing to waver.
“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “You?”
“Exhausted. And...well, I was actually thinking of getting something to eat after, did you...?”
“I can’t. I have Wizards after this.” It isn’t a lie, but it’s still difficult to say. She can’t really bring herself to look Demi in the eye. “Maybe some other time?”
“Yeah!” Demi says immediately, too enthusiastically. For a brief moment, she looks like she wants to hug her, but rethinks it. Selena considers it a delusional thought. “Can we talk?”
Selena looks around. Everyone is busy doing their own thing, and they’ve fallen into their own little private bubble. She knows Demi realizes this, and is grasping at the opportunity. Still, Selena bites out: “Now? You couldn’t have called earlier or-?”
“I didn’t want to talk over the phone. It felt...bigger than that. It is bigger than that.”
Her jaw is set, and yet what she says comes out garbled and uneven, and inwardly she curses herself for letting Demi get to her. “Of course it is. Let me tell you something, though: it wouldn’t have bothered me to talk on the phone. In fact, it might’ve been nice to know that you even wanted to talk to me at all.”
Demi looks like she’s been expecting her to say just that. She searches for words for a long moment before finally saying, for lack of anything else: “I’m just not very good at this, Sel”
This, this makes Selena snap. She turns to Demi sharply and continues on in a bitingly quiet whisper: “Oh, don’t even.”
Demi looks nothing short of frightened. “What - ?”
“I’m not the kind of girl who would let go of a friendship because of...whatever this is. I’m just the kind of girl who doesn’t appreciate it when her friend is acting really shitty. Every time I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, you make me regret it. You can stand here and act like you’re having a horrible time away from me, and trying to figure whatever this is out, but when there are pictures of you out there having fun and having sleepovers and acting like I don’t even exist, it’s hard for me to believe you. So, please, stop acting like you’re having trouble with this beyond it being inconvenient.”
She turns away, eyes burning with unshed tears, and is almost devastatingly thankful when Taylor swoops in to intercept before Demi can reach out to stop her.
-
The next week of rehearsals are awkward, to say the least. Selena holds onto the slightest bit of maturity she can muster and forces herself to not give Demi complete silent treatment, but ultimately the awkwardness of the situation forces them apart anyways. Only on stage do they directly interact, and even then, both are so distracted that their performances are less than subpar, and they’re forced to repeat practice-runs more than they normally would. Everything piles up and Selena can feel that moment coming, that moment where she’s just going to snap - really snap - and there will be no recovery from it.
Things are effectively different between the two of them, and people on set notice, even if these observations go unsaid. Selena prays that it doesn’t reach the public, because as much turmoil as this is causing her now, she feels a breakdown coming at the thought of their fans finding out. This is just one of those times she wishes her personal life wasn’t so easily subjected to tabloid rumors.
The day before the show, she gets frustrated and starts to leave the stage early. She can feel a rush of air along her arm and looks back to see Demi reaching out to her, concerned, but she pushes ahead anyways and goes to her dressing room.
She comes back out a half an hour later to find Demi nowhere to be seen, Taylor and Miley now occupying the stage. Selena stays and watches them, pretending to not look for Demi’s reentrance into the room the entire time. Eventually, when the two girls successfully perfect their duet, and the crew starts shifting around the equipment on stage, adjusting the lighting, and the various activity that goes on between sets starts in, Selena wanders over to Taylor’s makeshift area against the far wall, as it leads a a line across the room that lets her see down the exiting hallway. When she does, she finally sees Demi, exiting the bathroom, makeup freshly applied but eyes giving way to the redness that follows tears.
Selena would be damned if she didn’t admit her first thought was to go to her, and hug her and...
-
“So are you nervous?” Taylor asks her over frozen yogurt that night. The paparazzi linger outside, camera flashes nearly blinding them through the window, but eventually it fades into the background with the street traffic.
“About?”
Taylor nudges her like, don’t even. “Tomorrow.”
“It’ll be fine. Demi’s a natural and I’m sure I can muster up some acting skills and act like I’m totally excited about performing on stage with her.”
“Well, that too.”
“Huh?”
“I actually meant, you know, the performance in general. On stage, in front of people.” Taylor winces. “It was my poor attempt at distracting you from, you know, the other stuff.”
Selena laughs. “The other stuff. I tell you, if and when I get a biography written about me, I’m totally going to have it called Selena Gomez: The Other Stuff.”
Taylor playfully pushes her. “That was going to be the title of my biography!”
“Too slow, sadly.”
“Whatever,” Taylor smirks. She eats another spoonful of yogurt. “I’m really impressed, though, that you’re not freaking out tomorrow. It’s your first big performance, isn’t it?”
“Uh...” Selena thinks about it, and her mouth suddenly goes dry. “Yeah, yeah it is.”
In the past few weeks, her concern lied solely on interacting with Demi and what it meant and how it would look and if she was going to be able to do it, that it hadn’t occurred to her until this moment that she was going to perform. On stage. In front of people. A lot of people.
Oh, man.
-
Selena spends the better part of an hour pacing backstage. If this were a cartoon, there would be a three foot deep circle dug into the floor. Eventually, she wanders to just behind the stage, watching as everything is set up. Between the chords snaking around the floor and the lights and the mic stands, and the abundance of crew members scrambling to get everything set up so the show can go off without a hitch, there is little room left to breath. The heat of electrical units and the claustrophobic nature creates a musty heat that leaves Selena’s head spinning.
Demi proves herself to have a knack for bad timing, and chooses this moment to enter the room, tripping over the chords and nearly knocking Selena over. She apologizes profusely while they straighten, Selena being the one to deliberately take a step back, to put space between them. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Demi.
“Selena, will you please talk to me? I miss you, and these past few - ”
The bundle of nerves gathering in the pit of Selena’s stomach burst, and her patience is destroyed in the wake. “Okay, I don’t need this right now, Demi. I? I am going on stage in a few minutes and singing. In front of people. All those people. And you’re gonna be up there being great at it and I’m...” Selena runs a nervous hand through her hair, while her hair stylist weeps from across the room.
Demi makes the transition easily, a determined look in her eyes as she places both of her hands on either side of Selena and steadies her. “Hey, look at me. You’re going to be fine. You’re great at this, you’re an amazing singer, Selena.”
“Not helping.”
Demi rolls her eyes, “Learn to take a compliment, you dork! Your new stuff is amazing and this song? You’re going to rock it, okay? You’re going to go out there and you’re gonna just own me.”
“You haven’t heard my new stuff, so stop - ”
“Of course I have.”
“What...wait, really?”
“Duh. Your mom’s been sending me the cuts and everything. You think I actually have the patience to wait for it to hit stores? Yeah right.”
“I...she never told me.” Selena’s stomach does a flip, and it’s somewhere in between surprise at this discovery, and dread at the thought of Demi hearing the unpolished versions of her songs.
Demi’s hands still rest on Selena’s arms, and they start to stroke up and down, comforting. “Any time I got bummed out missing you, I’d play one of your songs. Dorky, I know, but...”
Selena feels tears gathering in her eyes, and when she speaks, her voice is quiet, on the verge of breaking. “Why didn’t you call, Demi? You left and didn’t call and - ”
“I was scared.”
“And I was what, slightly nervous?”
“You were right, you know, about me being a crappy friend.”
“You’re not - ”
“I was, I am. It’s no excuse, and you have every right to not want to talk to me. I just wish I could be better at this, at letting you know how much I miss you when we’re not together.” Demi’s grip tightens on her arms, like she’s frightened she’ll slip away if she doesn’t hold on. “When you told me those things, I...I can’t explain it.”
“Try,” Selena breathes.
“I’ve never been that scared in my entire life, Selena. And I’ve never felt better in my entire life, either. All at once, and I - it felt crazy. It didn’t feel like it was actually happening. I - ”
A production assistant chooses this moment to walk up to them. “Ladies?”
“What?!” Both Demi and Selena snap at him. He steps back, clearly frightened.
He backs away slowly. “You’re on. Five minutes.”
Selena looks at Demi, and isn’t sure which one of them is shaking the most. “Dem - ”
“You’re gonna be amazing out there, Sel.” She leans forward and kisses the apple of her cheek and lingers just long enough for all those silly hormones to wash away every last bit of anger she held towards her. Demi takes her hand. “Let’s go rock out, babe.”
-
There is a frantic energy in Demi’s performance, unpracticed and raw. Selena envies it. There is a delicious subset to the way she smiles and breathes out the words, the way her eyes wink back neon lights and her skin gleams exhausted perfection. Selena wants it. Selena wants her.
She’s on autopilot now: lyrics and words are sung and stomps her foot to the rousing beat, but her eyes are on no one in the crowd. When Demi meets her gaze, it’s electric, and Selena feels as if she’s been shocked back to life. Her pulse reverberates into her bones. She grips the mic stand tighter. Demi reaches out and wraps her hand around Selena’s, and together they sing into the microphone. Maybe the crowd goes wild, maybe the music gets louder, but in this moment, it’s only Selena and Demi, together, hand on hand.
It’s just them now.
Somewhere in time the time following the song’s climax and the explosion of cheers from the audience, they stumble backstage, drunk off the energy surrounding them.
“That was...amazing.”
Selena can barely breathe, clutching onto Demi as they make their way to the dressing room. They push the door open and everything gets a little fuzzy at this point. Selena finds herself pressed against a wall, Demi’s hands cupping either side of her face as she leans in and kisses her, kisses her hard.
And all Selena can think in this moment is: what took so long?
TBC...