Title: The Sinner & The Saint
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Selena/Demi (AU?)
Rating: PG
Summary: Maybe they both just needed a little saving...
A/N:This is my first ever real fanfic, with the exception of a drabble I wrote months ago. I'm much more of a reader than a writer, so it will likely be my only. It's more of a scene than a story. **leaving the names unless I get reported
Disclaimer: work of fiction, blah blah, I don't own Demi, Selena, or the Bible.
THE SINNER AND THE SAINT
She slowed her car to a stop next to a little tree on an island of grass, one of the handful dotted across the expanse of asphalt. While reaching down to move the gearshift into park, a glare of mid-morning sunlight caught on the metal wrapped around her finger. She pushed out her ring-clad hand, stretching her arm and wrist to contemplate its origin. She twisted the promise ring back and forth a few times before flipping down the visor mirror. She reapplied lip-gloss, ruffled her fingers through her hair, and flattened her cross necklace over her shirt collar.
Her eyes glazed over in the direction of the building entrance, where unfocused versions of the people she was here for were milling and greeting and embracing.
The building before her loomed large and lackluster, bearing no signs of difference from any other Megaplex theater she'd ever seen. But this was not your average movie theater today. Today, it was home to the Faith Youth Church. Of course, there was nothing all that average about FYC, either. Progressive, modern, and stacked and packed with guitar amps and stage lights, it was sometimes hard to believe it was a church at all. Every Sunday since as long as she could remember, the Megaplex surrendered a whole wing's worth of theaters to FYC's teens and tweens. This was the place. Between child stardom and teen stardom, this was the place where she first found a little of herself, among girls who played by rules and boys who wouldn't hesitate to hold a door. This was Texas. This was home.
A sigh puffed her cheeks and escaped through her lips as she turned the key, finally cutting the engine, cutting the urge to flee. Selena flashed a toothy, exaggerated smile at her reflection. The satisfaction at how convincing it looks shows a flash of the smile she has never had to practice, and she flipped up the visor mirror and swung the door open to climb out.
It had been months since the last time she had set foot in a church, and maybe a couple years since she'd been able to come back here. It felt even longer. It was a different life, one her old self had been absorbed in. Now, between riding waves of fame and drowning in the loss of the only true love in her life, she wasn't sure what she should believe, what she should put hope in. The years of acting left her accustomed to playing roles, and that of believer was no different.
Selena meandered through the crowd of old friends and new faces, smiling sweetly, embracing those she knew, and mostly checking her phone. As the music started, everyone filed into seats. Selena hovered just outside the doors, stealing a few final glances down the deserted hallway.
"Come on, Demi, I don't want to be late again!" Selena stomps her foot and knocks on the bathroom door a little harder than necessary. Though no answer comes through, she can hear the other girl lightly singing and humming her way through her morning routine and slumps her back against the wall, still impatient but resigning herself to wait nonetheless.
"What's the big deal, anyway? It's just a bunch of kids jumping around waving their arms, might as well just go to a concert," Demi teasingly responded.
As Selena slipped into one of the back rows, she heard the pastor shout a friendly command over the band, "Alright, now everybody hug somebody!" The neat rows of churchgoers started moving in every direction like an irritated anthill, climbing obstacles and racing to get there first, get the most.
Demi's eyes dart around the dim room avoiding faces, avoiding words spilled from now smiling mouths, avoiding being avoided, "Sel, do we have to?"
A hand sneaks itself against her clammy palm, "How about you just start with me?" Demi doesn't hesitate to wrap her arms around her best friend, her sometimes only friend, it seemed, and also so much more than a friend. She lets herself relax against the body before hers, eyes drooping with the comfort of the feeling of impregnable safety, the feeling of each finger of each hand pressed into her back.
Selena pulled the cuff of her shirt sleeve and pulled a smile before turning to her left, arms flying open to embrace a boy she'd seen before, a girl she hadn't, and a few more that didn't matter any more than the others. The music kicked up, and everyone marched back into their spots. Hands and voices began to raise as the worshippers wove themselves into the songs. Selena mouthed along lyrics filled with words she voices every day: thankful, faith, ~blessed.
A girl to Selena's right stood in an old t-shirt hanging loosely on a bony frame, hair falling in and out of view of day-old eyeliner-stained eyes.
Her hands clutch at the fabric of her t-shirt, worried about what they might do if free to move on their own. Armoring elbows are tucked to her sides. Demi is containing herself. Her heart feels too big for her body, her voice too big for the room, her faith too big for rock music and overenthusiastic teen Jesus-freaks. She bowed her head in a vow to keep herself from becoming one of them.
As the the chorus crescendoed for the second time, the girl tilted her head up as if she had been lifted to this position, enraptured, her face caught flashes of the swirling blue and white stage lights. Selena felt herself staring but as her body jerked to look away her eyes didn't follow quite as quickly. The music had slowed to a gentle rhythm, guitar and bass moaning lowly with spatters of tss-tss-tss'ing cymbals on the drums. The girl's voice rang clear over all of the others, raspy but sturdy, as if solid and tangible enough to hold onto.
"Selena, I don't want to come to this church anymore."
The young actress's eyes glazed over as her thoughts overpowered the music surrounding her. The months since she'd seen her friend seemed like ages, years. So much had happened. So little had happened.
"Selena, I don't want to do this anymore."
The mirrored conversations flashed in her head, side by side, sacrifice by sacrifice. By the time she digs her fingertips into her forehead and attempts to shake her doubt away, the pastor has begun his sermon.
"This week we're taking a look at love. So many of us struggle with the idea of love. What is love? How do we love God? How do we love others? How do we love ourselves? We're going to go ahead and read through Romans 12..."
"I can't keep lying about us. You know I hate lying. Can't we just tell someone the truth?" Demi pleads in earnest. Selena has slowly begun shaking her head in disbelief.
"...offer your bodies as living sacrifices..."
Selena grabs Demi by the arms, "The truth, Demi? What truth? This isn't anything!" Her fingers dig in, "I told you we're not like that, okay?" Demi rags her body as Selena begins to shake her, "Me and you, we can't be like that," she's barely holding on.
"...Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought..."
Demi sees the tottering pedestal Selena has built for herself, constructed of rings and promises and perfection. She sees her ready to fall and wraps her arms around the slowly shriveling, terrified girl. This would be the last time. Demi might have always been faithful to Selena's needs, but right now, what Selena needs is a little faith in herself.
"...We have different gifts, according to the grace given us..."
Selena let her eyes drift back to the girl to her right, who was picking at nail polish and repeatedly bumping her shoe against the chair in front of her as one leg bounced while crossed over the other.
So many gifts. How could one person be blessed with so many gifts? Selena hated confessing to herself how envious she truly was.
"...if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously..."
"Whatever you need, Selena. I'll give you anything you need," Demi hushed the sobbing girl, attempting to smooth her fingers through knotted and gnarling hair.
"...Love must be sincere..."
Selena jolted to her feet from her chair, more than a few eyes darting in her direction. She took a deep breath, shuffled down the aisle to her right, and slid down into a seat.
"Hi there..."
"What are you doing here?" Selena cut her off, still not trusting her eyes, she took in the girl sitting next to her: the unfaltering smile, the familiar scent, the warmth radiating off of her body.
"You told me you didn't want to come here if I wasn't going to." It was true. Selena had thrown a fit after Demi's decision and dared out a promise that she'd never go to her church if Demi didn't. She hadn't planned on her friend actually never going again, and while Selena was disappointed, she often enjoyed the post-sleepover Sunday mornings home alone with Demi while her parents were in church.
Selena shook her head in disbelief, "Demi, that was four years ago!"
Her smile stretched even wider, "Got a phone call last night, little birdie told me how proud she was of you, how proud I should be of you."
Selena ducked her head, not able to find that pride for herself but was grateful it was present in others.
"I can't believe you actually came out to your mom," Demi's voice began to rise in elation and wonder, as the kids in the seats surrounding them began giving warning looks and a couple shushes.
Meanwhile the pastor enthusiastically powered on, "...Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn..."
"I can't believe I haven't seen you in a year... I was so... It was just..." Selena struggled through all the things she wanted and needed to say, "I'm sorry."
Demi lowered her eyes to the floor as they began to gloss over with tears. Her mind raced over all of the things she knew Selena should be saying.
She snuck her hand against Selena's clammy palm and drew the other girl's eyes to her own, "You're forgiven."