Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
We're sitting on the couch in his living room, watching a random movie on Disney Channel. He's stroking my hair softly, while I stuff popcorn with too much butter into my mouth. It's been a quiet evening, since his family wasn't home and we didn't have too many words we needed to exchange.
"You belong to me." He whispers in my ear, but something's off. My heart isn't fluttering crazily and there are no butterflies flapping around in my stomach. I'm trying to remember what I should feel like in this situation. Should I be flattered or blushing or swaying on my feet? I can't even smile, because my mind is reeling as I try to put my finger on the problem.
And then quite suddenly, things came slamming into perspective.
I push his arm off of my shoulder, and turn to face his handsome face. He looks over at me innocently, moving to put his arm back around my shoulders.
"No," I tell him firmly, standing up from my place beside him on his parent's couch and crossing my arms. He just stares at me in confusion, as I grit my teeth, "What did you just say to me?"
He's not embarrassed as he rises from the couch. In fact, he's confident and composed as he approaches my angry figure, placing his hands on my shoulders, "Are you okay, babe?"
"My name's Miley." I hiss at him, angrily swiping his hands off of my arms. I stare at him straight in the eyes, almost willing him to lie to my face as I repeat my question, "What did you just say to me?"
"You know what I said, don't play games with me." Liam says, the corners of his lips dipping down into a frown. I desperately try and reanalyse everything that we've done together in the past few months, and I can't believe how naive I've been. I didn't see the signs, and now I feel flat out stupid.
I don't even realize I'm doing it, but my palm is suddenly colliding with his cheek as he leans down toward me. He stumbles a few steps back out of pure reflex, before composing himself and staring at me incredulously.
"What the –"
"You actually have the nerve to tell me that I'm playing games with you?" I screech, and suddenly the room seems too small. I can't be in the same room as him, because the air he's breathing is making my stomach clench. I turn on my heel and speed from the room, grabbing my purse from its place beside the couch on my way out. And as I pull open the front door, I realize exactly what is missing from this dramatic scene – Liam isn't calling for me or chasing after me.
Because he may say he loves me, but I know what he's feeling is not love.
I stumble out of the house, rejection and indecision pulsing through me. Where am I going to go? What am I going to do? I decide to call the only person I believe will understand my situation. I reach into my purse and pull out my cell phone, instantly pushing the numbers that are so familiar to me.
"Hello?"
"Demi, it's Miley." I'm filled with a sense of relief as I hear her voice, but it doesn't last long. The hurt and rejection sears through my heart as I realize Liam still hasn't even come outside to look for me.
"Hey girl," I can hear people chatting in the background and a light tempo from music drifting through the receiver, "How's it going?"
"Demi..." I pause, tears welling up in my eyes as I clutch the phone to my ear, "Dems, I don't know what to do."
"Hold on girl, tell me what's wrong. Where are you? I'm coming." I hear the sound of a chair scraping and someone ask Demi where she's going. I can't tell if it's a masculine or feminine voice, but it's not a priority of mine to decipher. I let out a watery laugh,
"I'm not even in the same country as you, Dems. But, God am I stupid. Liam played me." I say pathetically. She doesn't respond until a faint click tells me a door is closed, and the music is gone.
"Liam is not worth your tears, Miley." She says seriously, and I imagine her pursing her lips as she thinks of what to say.
"He's using me, Dem. And I just realized it maybe five minutes ago." I sigh, pacing up and down Liam's driveway. I haven't decided where I'm going yet, "I can't believe I fell for it."
"It's not your fault, girl." Demi tells me, and I can hear the hesitation in her voice.
"Say whatever you need to say, Demi."
"Miley, you like to feel loved," She doesn't hesitate to tell me the truth, which is exactly what I need to hear at the moment, "You jump at any boy who is willing to love you, but you don't stop to consider what they will take from the relationship."
"I'm listening."
"From Justin, it was fame. He needed to be introduced into the business and you were a heartbroken young beauty that was vulnerable at the time. And Liam is just the same, Mi. He wants the publicity that you get when you breathe."
"I hate it when you're right." I chuckle, even though nothing is remotely funny. It's just nice to have full and entire sincerity in the middle of a tangle of lies. "Have I told you that you're amazing lately?"
"It wouldn't hurt to hear it again."
"Eh, moment's passed."
"Miley!" Demi gasps and I let out another watery giggle. I look back at the house, where Liam is now peering out the curtains of the front window. He catches me looking at him and offers me a small smile. He thinks I'm going to forget about this whole thing, I'm sure of it. Ha!
And I don't miss the fact that he doesn't even come out to ask if I'm okay, even though I'm a complete mess.
Or that he doesn't try to wipe away my tears, even though I could drown a small village with the amount that's falling.
And that he doesn't sweep me into his arms and tell me that he loves me, because that would just be a silly charade.
"It's time for me to go home." I tell Demi, and my mind can't be changed. Because I've finally realized that he doesn't enjoy going places with me, he enjoys the attention it brings him. And he doesn't kiss me or hug me or hold me because he wants to be with me, but because he wants to show off.
But most importantly, he doesn't love me for who I am inside – he loves who I am in Hollywood.
My status, not my heart.
And that four letter sentence, the one he had whispered in my ear as a fictional act of romance, it changed everything. If he had just said 'you belong with me' instead of using that possessive sentence, than my vision wouldn't have been shifted into reality. I would be living in a bubble that couldn't be popped, where bright rainbows and happy music filled each beautiful day. But it was a dream that could not be lived out, and I was willing to scrape my heart back together long enough to find myself again.
And back in LA, sitting in a small restaurant with Demi and his older brothers, sat a curly-haired boy who was unknowingly going to help me do just that.
HI(:
Uhh, I'm not really sure where this came from. Very random & spur-of-the-moment type thing. It didn't come out quite like I imagined it would, but I think I got my point across --
Me no likey Liam. I mean he seems nice & all, but I dunno. Something about him just doesn't sit right with me. I mean he's gorgeous & all, but ehh.
So, I'll admit the reason I'm not stopping this not-very-exciting author's note - I have exam review to do & I really don't feel like doing it (;
Plus, with all the Nelena rumors going around lately.. I felt I should get something out. Even if this doesn't really relate to that topic... blah.
Tell me what you think of the Nelena / Niley / Miam situation. I like when people give me things to consider when I think about their relationship(s).
Okay, I'm done - I swear.