DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, but I'm pretty sure Demi Lovato and Selena Gomez are totally gay for each other. Oh, and Bieber is just Selena's beard.

Summary: Demi lives in the ghetto and is part of a notorious gang. What will happen when she meets Selena, a girl underexposed to her way of life?

A/N: What can I say, I was bored. So anyway, yes, this will be a Demi/Selena story but may stray a little. Just bare with me. Also, I don't know why I'm posting this because I am horrible at multitasking. But I thought hey, what the hell? So yeah, tell me if you like it and I may feed you more :). This is based off of a book I'm currently reading. It's just an influence, there isn't going to be anything that is distinctly the same.

Thug Life: Introduction/Prologue

DEMI POV

My eyelids fluttered open, combating against the harsh rays of sun that were streaming into the small space. It was about noon, as far as I could tell. (I had learned to sense the time of day quite quickly without the luxury of a watch). I sleepily observed the scorching, blurry sun peeking out through a transparent window that was draped in tacky white curtains. My body felt strangely heavier than usual and I lazily looked down at my torso that was wrapped in the bed's pliable sheets. There was a steadily breathing, sleeping form covering my own. The unfamiliar person's hair was lengthily cascading over my stomach, sporting a shade of light brown in result of the current lighting. I vainly tried shifting my legs, but the lower-half of my body was rendered useless, weighed down by the extra form entangled with mine. I moved to shove them off as per usual, but strong hands perversely prevented the action.

"Don't throw me off the bed."A pretty face appeared from under the partially pulled up covers. Said pretty face was currently glaring daggers in my direction. I distinctly tried to remember what had occurred the previous night, wondering how I'd scored such a beauty. Cerulean eyes stared back at me through long lashes. The girl was obviously beautiful; it didn't take much thought to figure that out. The diffusing light illuminated her soft, round facial features, expressive eyes, and full inviting lips.

"Don't lay on me." I matched her glare in a silent challenge. This was unusual; I was the one who normally initiated the bitch-fests. It was an adopted behavior, a defense mechanism of sorts. It keeps you from becoming emotionally attached to the person. Or at least, that's what I thought. Plus, being a bitch to people was just fun. The girl's expression turned sour, her jaw setting, pink lips pursing.

"You don't remember anything that happened last night, do you?" False hope shined in her eyes. She was now propped up on my stomach, causing me to become even more uncomfortable. A twinge of guilt affected my thought process, but I evasively pushed the feeling away.

"Nope, seeing as I was drunk off of my ass. Lemme guess, your gonna tell me some whack-ass story about how it was the best night of your life?" This happened a lot, girls getting clingy on me. Though every time, I brushed them off like dirt that had collected on my shoulder.

"Something like that." She gazed intensely into my eyes and I stealthily rolled out from under her body, escaping before I could get sucked up into her hypnotizing spell. I quickly scanned the room, searching for my clothes. She made a noise of discontent and I rolled my eyes. Bitches.

Finding the forgotten garments dispersed around the room; I gathered them into a pile and sloppily began to dress. I hastily picked up my black loose-fitting skinny jeans and tugged them on, hopping around on each leg to try and balance myself. I heard giggling emanating from behind me and craned my head to glare at the girl who was currently mocking me. She rolled her eyes and continued observing me battle with my clothes, all the while being leisurely spread out on the bed in a model-like pose. Once they were comfortably on, I plucked my white t-shirt off of the floor and turned back to question her.

"Hey, where's my bra?" I asked, holding the shirt at my waist. Click.

I found her holding a cell phone, fingers lingering above the camera button. Throwing my shirt on the floor, I stomped over to her.

"Not fucking cool." I seethed, reaching for the offending device that was grasped in her clutches.

"Cool for me. All of my friends have been trying to get you in bed and they won't believe that I fucked you unless they get picture proof." She said, as if I was some kind of contest. That just made me even more pissed off, I can't believe this bitch. My teeth clenched as I tried to swat away her free hand that was insistently trying to fight me off. She had the device at arm's-length, above my head. I pinned down her lower half, stretching out my arms and trying to meet hers that were impossibly out of reach. She fought back vehemently but I got her into a headlock, swiping it from her hand. I smirked, pocketing it victoriously. She pouted and I slid off of her form, returning back to my temporary pile of clothes.

"Maybe if I'm drunk enough I'll do them. Tell them I said that." I picked up my shirt off of the floor and turned to face her again. Whizzing through the air, my black lace bra hit me square in the face.

"Thanks." I told her sarcastically, lifting it up from the polished wood. I slid my arms through the straps and huffed, noticing I had forgotten to hook the back of it. I was about to remove it when I felt two soft hands helping me out. I looked behind me with my eyebrow raised and my eyes widened subsequently.

The girl had gotten out of the bed, her naked body exposed. She was taller than me by a little, but then again, most people are. Her legs were toned, her arms were toned, her stomach was toned…. Everything was toned. She had abs. I no longer thought that I was the only girl around here who cared about their physical shape.

My head quickly snapped back. I hoped she hadn't seen my expression. I don't get uncool around girls, I just don't. It doesn't happen. I hastily pulled my white shirt over my head and ran a warm hand through my sex-hair.

I glanced at the girl from the corner of my eye. She was wearing my blue bandanna on her head. I swear to god… if she doesn't stop fucking with my stuff, someone's gonna get hit. I'd never had this much trouble leaving a one-night stand before. Usually the girl was still knocked out and I would just shimmy out of the bed, get dressed and get the fuck out.

"Give me my bandanna." I instructed, placing my hand out in a peaceful manner. She strutted over to me, linking her arms around my neck. Her eyes had taken to lust and I tried to ignore the feel of her naked torso pressing into mine. What the fuck does she think she's doing?

"Kiss me and I'll give it back." She smirked cockily, softly caressing my neck. I looked at her with both of my eyebrows raised, unsuccessfully trying to keep myself from busting out laughing. I couldn't hold it. I started cracking up and her seductive expression morphed into a confused one.

"You're serious? You're fucking serious right now? Oh my god…" I gasped out through peals of laughter. I wiped the imaginary tears from my eyes and spoke.

"Nice try princess, but I don't kiss." The funniness of the situation dissipated and I snatched my bandanna off of her head, holding it in my hand. I expertly folded it and slid it into my pocket so people could see it sticking out when I was walking.

"Why did you kiss me last night then?" A pucker formed in-between her eyebrows and her nose cutely crinkled. Oh shit, I must've been really shitfaced last night. This is not good.

I quickly tugged on my socks and stepped into my slides, getting my feet comfortable. "Umm… gotta go…" I ignored her. I was trying to avoid an awkward situation, sue me. This has never happened to me before. I don't do kissing. Holy shit, what did I drink last night?

I went to the other side of the room and forcibly pushed open the window that was adjacent to the bed. I swung my legs out and supported myself with my arms grasping onto the windowsill. Just as I was about to transfer onto the big oak tree that sat outside, I heard her voice.

"Wait! ….Aren't you going to ask me what my name is?" She yelled after me, hope ringing in her voice.

"What's your name?" I sighed, looking back at her exasperatedly. I just wanted to go home. Or was I supposed to go to school today? I don't even know what day it is.

"Miley." My eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"Miley, Miley Stewart? As in….Billy Ray's daughter?" She nodded, confirming my suspicions.

"So…. you're not a hooker?" I asked confusedly, stopping my shimmying motion on the long branch growing from the huge tree.

"No…" She looked at me in bewilderment, leaning out of her window. I pondered this over in my head.

"Okay, I really need to get out of here then." I wasn't in the mood to get shot out of ten foot tree by Billy Ray for sleeping with his daughter. I waved bye to her, trying to be courteous, even though I probably wasn't being courteous last night. She returned the wave and had a sad smile on her face. I rolled my eyes, damn was she was clingy.

I hopped out of the tree, my shirt billowing behind me as I ran down the endless sidewalk. I would probably never see that bitch again in my life. I'm Demi-fucking-Lovato and I'm the baddest thug in west-side. I don't look back, and I don't regret. At least, that's what I used to think.

A/N: I will put this in caps so people will see it. THIS IS A DEMI/SELENA STORY. JUST BECAUSE THERE WAS MILEY/DEMI FOR ONE CHAPTER DOESN'T MEAN IT'S MILEY/DEMI. DON'T FREAK OUT, ITS JUST PART OF THE STORY PEOPLE. (Sorry I'm being bitchy.) Also, I know Demi isn't acting very gangsta, you'll see why next chapter.

DO YOU LIKE IT? SHOULD I WRITE MORE? SHOULD I KILL JUSTIN BIEBER? I MEAN, SHOULD I KILL MYSELF?