demi/selena - i hear a word you're not saying (oneshot)
Title: I Hear a Word You're Not Saying
Character/Pairing: Demi/Selena (femslash)
Word Count: ~1,950
Rating: PG, I guess
Summary: They’re both so quiet, not knowing what to say or if they even have anything to talk about at all. The Princess Protection Program premiere and prom
Disclaimer: This is entirely fictitious and I don't own anything. Title from Demi Lovato's Quiet
Selena hates how different it is when she meets up with Demi in Toronto for the Princess Protection Program premiere. They’re both so quiet, not knowing what to say or if they even have anything to talk about at all. It’s uncanny because they’ve gone weeks without talking before, but when they’d see each other again they’d always ease back into friendship quickly, able to tell each other anything and everything, laughing loudly and not at all conscious of needing a mask, not worrying about playing a role or keeping up an image. They were just themselves, like they always were together.
Except Demi’s opening up her suitcase, back stiff, breathing slowly and steadily and not bothering to say anything. It would make Selena really upset that Demi’s not really even making any sort of effort, but she isn’t really either as she unzips the bag housing her dress.
She wonders whose fault this is, who started this silence. Selena thinks it may be her fault, after all, Demi didn’t respond all that well to her getting closer to David in Puerto Rico, especially after he broke her heart and Demi just sighed into the phone, saying that she told Selena so. Which Selena hated because in those stupid interviews Demi always said she’s set up David and Selena, so wasn’t he supposed to be the guy for her?
Or maybe it was hanging out with Taylor in Canada during the filming of Ramona and Beezus. But she told everyone they were just friends, because they were. So what if Selena is a touchy-feely person, Demi knows that better than anyone. Or she should. But she still asked over the phone, sounding really quiet and vulnerable and sleepy and like she was a little sick. It was strange, being able to sense that Demi didn’t believe her, didn’t trust her to be telling the truth.
Then again, she often ponders the idea that it’s all Demi’s fault. Selena didn’t know she was so easily replaced, is all. Demi tweeting Miley like they were best friends, like they had known each other for forever. It was unnerving, knowing they talked all the time, having it all aired out in public, when Demi didn’t even bother returning the messages Selena left on her phone.
It takes her a long time to think the situation isn’t black and white, her fault or Demi’s, that maybe it wasn’t one thing, that it was a combination of everything. And that makes it even worse, for some reason.
It made Selena’s stomach twist together and she felt like she couldn’t breathe, like the world was crumbling around her and no one seemed to notice. As Demi stands up and takes her dress into the bathroom to change- into the bathroom? Really? Since when can’t they get dressed in front of each other? - Selena wonders if her best friend is even aware of the difference, if the distance between them is just as palpable to her.
But when they’re both ready, Demi drags Selena into the bathroom, mumbling something about the lighting being better and smiles at her, holding a camera and telling her they need to take a picture. And it’s the false tone in Demi’s voice and the slight rigidity in her posture that clues Selena into knowing Demi’s acting, putting on that mask that they’ve never used with each other before.
It’s worse than not talking at all.
When they get to the carpet Demi keeps up the façade, and Selena really has no choice but to be a willing participant in this game, not that she’s never stretched the truth for the media before, she’s just never had to do so with Demi. They smile, strike poses, hug, and Selena is a little surprised by how good of an actress Demi can be when she wants to fool people bad enough.
They’re about halfway down the carpet when Selena realizes that they’ve stopped acting like the best friends they used to be, that they actually are, if only for a moment, if only for a night. It must be that thing about if you smile enough and pretend you’re happy, you actually wind up that way.
After the premiere the cast is able to go to a prom, a real one. And Selena’s so excited that she practically runs over to Demi, Marissa and Sammie. But Demi doesn’t even seem to notice her approaching, the younger girl throws her head back and laughs loudly and seems content without her, happy without her. So Selena slows down, straightens her back and walks past the small group, blinking back a few tears.
*
Demi immediately sees Selena walk past her, perfect posture, not even bothering to make eye contact. The smile on Demi’s face falters. She thought they were okay now, that the carpet had fixed everything; they never needed to talk over little disputes or waves in their friendship before, only the larger ones. But there Selena went, hair moving back and forth slightly, hypnotizing her, and Marissa was lacing her arm through Demi’s, so she turned to her friends and grinned a little wider, more forcefully.
When they get to the prom Demi dances with everyone, with kids she doesn’t know from the school, they’re all really nice and accepting and the entire affair seems much better than she expected. She’s slowly dancing over to Selena, inch by inch, minute by minute, trying to make it look like a natural progression across the smooth wooden floor.
She’s almost there, she could practically reach out and splay her fingers over the small of Selena’s back when it feels like all the noise stops, the music isn’t playing anymore and people’s feet aren’t pounding the ground, the only thing Demi hears is some girl, not bothering to whisper- which is probably unfair, since it’s not like anyone could hear anyone speak at a normal volume in here- her name, saying, “Demi Lovato’s so ugly, I don’t know why anyone likes her.” Her friends adds, “And it’s not like she can act, and she over-sings everything. Such a show-off.”
And Demi feels like she may vomit, its junior high all over again, only worse somehow. She clutches her stomach with one hand and murmurs “excuse me” over and over again, trying to make her way out of there as fast as her slightly sore feet and the overcrowded floor will allow her. She’s not sure where she’s going, the whole room seems like it is spinning and she thinks that she may be dehydrated. She sees a light from the hallway and heads toward it, breathing deeply when she pushes open the heavy wooden door and the music becomes muffled.
Looking left and right, she thinks she sees a bathroom and heads towards it, walking in and resting her hips on the counter. Her hair is mussed and her make-up looks a little smudged, but it’s probably only noticeable if anyone’s looking for it. Her face is pale white, even though the heat radiating in waves off her body would suggest that it should be bright red. Demi’s throat feels dry and scratchy, and she can’t remember who has her shoes.
A group of giggling girls walk in, see her standing there and grow quiet, leaving quickly almost as if they accidentally entered, embarrassed. Then Demi looks at the stalls, all open and empty and she breathes deeply a few times, trying to feel normal again.
She looks down at the white porcelain of the sink, trying to center herself, inhaling deeply, clutching the counter top so hard that her fingers are going a little numb. A minute later there’s a small hand on her shoulder and she looks up, finding a familiar pair of brown eyes looking at her reflection in the mirror.
“Are you okay?” Selena asks, concern printed on her face, and Demi can’t help but notice how her hair seems to have fallen back into place perfectly.
“Y-yeah.” But her voice is breathy and the energy it requires to talk makes her feel like she might faint. Her palms are starting to sweat, causing her grip to slip a little on the edge of the smooth counter.
“Come here,” Selena says softly, wrapping an arm around Demi’s waist and walking her to the corner of the bathroom, sitting her down, back firmly against the wall, and taking a spot next to her. The bathroom floor tiles are an ugly bluish green color and cool against Demi’s thighs and legs as she straightens them out in front of her, it feels nice.
“Thanks,” Demi whispers, rubbing her eyes with her hands, and nothing’s revolving anymore, her heartbeat seems less erratic.
“Those girls were just jealous.”
“You, you heard them?”
“Yeah.” Selena looks down and smoothes out the thin fabric of her dress a little. When she looks up her eyes meet Demi’s and there’s a question in them that Demi doesn’t want her to verbalize.
“Thanks,” Demi murmurs, hoping to distract Selena from her thoughts. She’s not ready for this conversation, still reeling from words that cut her deeper than any razor could. She’s not sure she’s emotionally stable enough, even physically ready for Selena to ask her what’s wrong.
“What happened to us?” Selena inquires, running thin fingers over Demi’s bare shoulder, down her arm, lacing their digits together. “It never used to be so hard.”
“I don’t know.”
“I never lied to you, you know?” Selena looks Demi in the eyes, her chocolate orbs flooded with misery. She squeezes her best friend’s hand.
“Yeah, I know.” Demi looks down at their intertwined fingers. The contact with Selena has her heart racing again, but for entirely different reasons. And all she wants to do is kiss her best friend. But this isn’t truth or dare when they were fourteen years old, this is different, this is real. “I love you.”
*
“I love you, too,” Selena murmurs back, not minding the sweat on Demi’s hands mixing with her own. She hates seeing her best friend look so distraught, it kills her and all she wants to do is take all her pain away. She wants it to travel through Demi, into their locked hands and exit into her. “We can’t just fix this now.”
“I know.” Demi nods sadly, looking down and tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Hey,” Selena whispers, allowing her other hand to touch Demi’s chin lightly, turning her so she has to look at her again. “I know what you mean.”
“What?”
“I love you.” Selena leans over slightly and looks at Demi’s lips, most of the lipstick having faded and worn away, and she thinks her best friend is probably the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. She breaks the small amount of distance left between them, planting a soft kiss on her best friend’s perfectly shaped mouth. “You’re beautiful.” Selena kisses Demi again, slower this time, longer. “You are so talented.” She rubs some tears into her best friend’s skin, willing them to disappear as though they never fell. “You are not a show-off.” Selena leans their foreheads together and tucks the hair on the other side of Demi’s head behind her ears. “And people don’t just like you, they love you.”
Demi sniffles a little and squeezes Selena’s hand lightly. “Thank you.”
“So if Taylor’s my beard, who’s yours?”
Demi giggles a little at this, and Selena takes that as a good sign. She untangles her fingers from her best friend’s and stands up, reaches down again, helping Demi stand on her own two feet once more. Selena locks their arms together and smiles.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
*
Character/Pairing: Demi/Selena (femslash)
Word Count: ~1,950
Rating: PG, I guess
Summary: They’re both so quiet, not knowing what to say or if they even have anything to talk about at all. The Princess Protection Program premiere and prom
Disclaimer: This is entirely fictitious and I don't own anything. Title from Demi Lovato's Quiet
Selena hates how different it is when she meets up with Demi in Toronto for the Princess Protection Program premiere. They’re both so quiet, not knowing what to say or if they even have anything to talk about at all. It’s uncanny because they’ve gone weeks without talking before, but when they’d see each other again they’d always ease back into friendship quickly, able to tell each other anything and everything, laughing loudly and not at all conscious of needing a mask, not worrying about playing a role or keeping up an image. They were just themselves, like they always were together.
Except Demi’s opening up her suitcase, back stiff, breathing slowly and steadily and not bothering to say anything. It would make Selena really upset that Demi’s not really even making any sort of effort, but she isn’t really either as she unzips the bag housing her dress.
She wonders whose fault this is, who started this silence. Selena thinks it may be her fault, after all, Demi didn’t respond all that well to her getting closer to David in Puerto Rico, especially after he broke her heart and Demi just sighed into the phone, saying that she told Selena so. Which Selena hated because in those stupid interviews Demi always said she’s set up David and Selena, so wasn’t he supposed to be the guy for her?
Or maybe it was hanging out with Taylor in Canada during the filming of Ramona and Beezus. But she told everyone they were just friends, because they were. So what if Selena is a touchy-feely person, Demi knows that better than anyone. Or she should. But she still asked over the phone, sounding really quiet and vulnerable and sleepy and like she was a little sick. It was strange, being able to sense that Demi didn’t believe her, didn’t trust her to be telling the truth.
Then again, she often ponders the idea that it’s all Demi’s fault. Selena didn’t know she was so easily replaced, is all. Demi tweeting Miley like they were best friends, like they had known each other for forever. It was unnerving, knowing they talked all the time, having it all aired out in public, when Demi didn’t even bother returning the messages Selena left on her phone.
It takes her a long time to think the situation isn’t black and white, her fault or Demi’s, that maybe it wasn’t one thing, that it was a combination of everything. And that makes it even worse, for some reason.
It made Selena’s stomach twist together and she felt like she couldn’t breathe, like the world was crumbling around her and no one seemed to notice. As Demi stands up and takes her dress into the bathroom to change- into the bathroom? Really? Since when can’t they get dressed in front of each other? - Selena wonders if her best friend is even aware of the difference, if the distance between them is just as palpable to her.
But when they’re both ready, Demi drags Selena into the bathroom, mumbling something about the lighting being better and smiles at her, holding a camera and telling her they need to take a picture. And it’s the false tone in Demi’s voice and the slight rigidity in her posture that clues Selena into knowing Demi’s acting, putting on that mask that they’ve never used with each other before.
It’s worse than not talking at all.
When they get to the carpet Demi keeps up the façade, and Selena really has no choice but to be a willing participant in this game, not that she’s never stretched the truth for the media before, she’s just never had to do so with Demi. They smile, strike poses, hug, and Selena is a little surprised by how good of an actress Demi can be when she wants to fool people bad enough.
They’re about halfway down the carpet when Selena realizes that they’ve stopped acting like the best friends they used to be, that they actually are, if only for a moment, if only for a night. It must be that thing about if you smile enough and pretend you’re happy, you actually wind up that way.
After the premiere the cast is able to go to a prom, a real one. And Selena’s so excited that she practically runs over to Demi, Marissa and Sammie. But Demi doesn’t even seem to notice her approaching, the younger girl throws her head back and laughs loudly and seems content without her, happy without her. So Selena slows down, straightens her back and walks past the small group, blinking back a few tears.
*
Demi immediately sees Selena walk past her, perfect posture, not even bothering to make eye contact. The smile on Demi’s face falters. She thought they were okay now, that the carpet had fixed everything; they never needed to talk over little disputes or waves in their friendship before, only the larger ones. But there Selena went, hair moving back and forth slightly, hypnotizing her, and Marissa was lacing her arm through Demi’s, so she turned to her friends and grinned a little wider, more forcefully.
When they get to the prom Demi dances with everyone, with kids she doesn’t know from the school, they’re all really nice and accepting and the entire affair seems much better than she expected. She’s slowly dancing over to Selena, inch by inch, minute by minute, trying to make it look like a natural progression across the smooth wooden floor.
She’s almost there, she could practically reach out and splay her fingers over the small of Selena’s back when it feels like all the noise stops, the music isn’t playing anymore and people’s feet aren’t pounding the ground, the only thing Demi hears is some girl, not bothering to whisper- which is probably unfair, since it’s not like anyone could hear anyone speak at a normal volume in here- her name, saying, “Demi Lovato’s so ugly, I don’t know why anyone likes her.” Her friends adds, “And it’s not like she can act, and she over-sings everything. Such a show-off.”
And Demi feels like she may vomit, its junior high all over again, only worse somehow. She clutches her stomach with one hand and murmurs “excuse me” over and over again, trying to make her way out of there as fast as her slightly sore feet and the overcrowded floor will allow her. She’s not sure where she’s going, the whole room seems like it is spinning and she thinks that she may be dehydrated. She sees a light from the hallway and heads toward it, breathing deeply when she pushes open the heavy wooden door and the music becomes muffled.
Looking left and right, she thinks she sees a bathroom and heads towards it, walking in and resting her hips on the counter. Her hair is mussed and her make-up looks a little smudged, but it’s probably only noticeable if anyone’s looking for it. Her face is pale white, even though the heat radiating in waves off her body would suggest that it should be bright red. Demi’s throat feels dry and scratchy, and she can’t remember who has her shoes.
A group of giggling girls walk in, see her standing there and grow quiet, leaving quickly almost as if they accidentally entered, embarrassed. Then Demi looks at the stalls, all open and empty and she breathes deeply a few times, trying to feel normal again.
She looks down at the white porcelain of the sink, trying to center herself, inhaling deeply, clutching the counter top so hard that her fingers are going a little numb. A minute later there’s a small hand on her shoulder and she looks up, finding a familiar pair of brown eyes looking at her reflection in the mirror.
“Are you okay?” Selena asks, concern printed on her face, and Demi can’t help but notice how her hair seems to have fallen back into place perfectly.
“Y-yeah.” But her voice is breathy and the energy it requires to talk makes her feel like she might faint. Her palms are starting to sweat, causing her grip to slip a little on the edge of the smooth counter.
“Come here,” Selena says softly, wrapping an arm around Demi’s waist and walking her to the corner of the bathroom, sitting her down, back firmly against the wall, and taking a spot next to her. The bathroom floor tiles are an ugly bluish green color and cool against Demi’s thighs and legs as she straightens them out in front of her, it feels nice.
“Thanks,” Demi whispers, rubbing her eyes with her hands, and nothing’s revolving anymore, her heartbeat seems less erratic.
“Those girls were just jealous.”
“You, you heard them?”
“Yeah.” Selena looks down and smoothes out the thin fabric of her dress a little. When she looks up her eyes meet Demi’s and there’s a question in them that Demi doesn’t want her to verbalize.
“Thanks,” Demi murmurs, hoping to distract Selena from her thoughts. She’s not ready for this conversation, still reeling from words that cut her deeper than any razor could. She’s not sure she’s emotionally stable enough, even physically ready for Selena to ask her what’s wrong.
“What happened to us?” Selena inquires, running thin fingers over Demi’s bare shoulder, down her arm, lacing their digits together. “It never used to be so hard.”
“I don’t know.”
“I never lied to you, you know?” Selena looks Demi in the eyes, her chocolate orbs flooded with misery. She squeezes her best friend’s hand.
“Yeah, I know.” Demi looks down at their intertwined fingers. The contact with Selena has her heart racing again, but for entirely different reasons. And all she wants to do is kiss her best friend. But this isn’t truth or dare when they were fourteen years old, this is different, this is real. “I love you.”
*
“I love you, too,” Selena murmurs back, not minding the sweat on Demi’s hands mixing with her own. She hates seeing her best friend look so distraught, it kills her and all she wants to do is take all her pain away. She wants it to travel through Demi, into their locked hands and exit into her. “We can’t just fix this now.”
“I know.” Demi nods sadly, looking down and tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Hey,” Selena whispers, allowing her other hand to touch Demi’s chin lightly, turning her so she has to look at her again. “I know what you mean.”
“What?”
“I love you.” Selena leans over slightly and looks at Demi’s lips, most of the lipstick having faded and worn away, and she thinks her best friend is probably the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. She breaks the small amount of distance left between them, planting a soft kiss on her best friend’s perfectly shaped mouth. “You’re beautiful.” Selena kisses Demi again, slower this time, longer. “You are so talented.” She rubs some tears into her best friend’s skin, willing them to disappear as though they never fell. “You are not a show-off.” Selena leans their foreheads together and tucks the hair on the other side of Demi’s head behind her ears. “And people don’t just like you, they love you.”
Demi sniffles a little and squeezes Selena’s hand lightly. “Thank you.”
“So if Taylor’s my beard, who’s yours?”
Demi giggles a little at this, and Selena takes that as a good sign. She untangles her fingers from her best friend’s and stands up, reaches down again, helping Demi stand on her own two feet once more. Selena locks their arms together and smiles.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
*