Disclaimer: I own nothing – Peace, Love, Niley x3
Demi's POV:
"Are you sure about this, Milerz? I mean, we could lose our jobs or something." I wondered uncertainly, Miley rolled her eyes in a mixture of annoyance and boredom – it was easy for her to be relaxed, she was Miley-freakin'-Cyrus for crying out loud! Hell would freeze over before Disney even considered firing her. Me on the other hand, my Disney career was hanging by a thread – especially ever since I made the 'Ask Taylor' video and started hanging out less with Selena and more with Miley. It's not my fault, I was mad at Taylor for practically stealing my BFF and Selena was being a total bitch, (all offence intended). Of course I flipped out, I'm entitled to being able to express my emotions – that's what being an artist is all about. Besides, Taylor deserved it – considering that she's taken pretty much e v e r y t h i n g away from me: she's taken Selena, my singing career and now, she's taken my boyfriend. Oh yeah, didn't you hear? Joe decided to dump me for the blonde whore herself, apparently he couldn't even bring himself to lie and say the whole 'it's not you, it's me' speech, no, instead he decided to suggest that we stay as friends. Friends. What kind of planet does that guy live on!?!
Anyway, that pretty much brings me to where I am right now – sitting at some overrated, seedy nightclub with a vodka shot in my right hand, and my flashy, metallic purse in my left.
"Relax girl, Ash and I do it ALL the time, Vanessa actually came home drunk a couple of months ago." Miley slurred – I couldn't really tell if she was properly drunk yet, or just buzzed – either way, she was starting to make me feel uncomfortable.
"Didn't Vanessa get fired though?" I asked, gingerly circling the rim of my glass with my forefinger; no offence to Vanessa, but, I didn't particularly want to follow her example, for obvious reasons.
"Just drink the damn thing!" Miley stated exasperatedly, I could tell that I was being a kill joy and ruining her 'night,' as she liked to call it. "Do it for Joe girl," she screeched, sounding deadly serious – I stared at the cup before me, the way the clear liquid shimmered in the corners, and the sharp cut of the glass seemed to be teasing me. It was saying 'no way, she's never going to do it, she's too much of a wimp, no wonder Joe dumped her for Taylor.' Not giving the matter anymore thought, I chugged the shot straight down; the liquid was tasteless for a split second, then it began to burn – lighting up my throat, as it slipped gracefully to the pit of my stomach. I found myself reaching for another glass automatically, even though the liquid itself was relatively tasteless, the burning sensation it left made me hunger for more. I decided to give into it, not because I thought it was a wise decision, or because I randomly felt like it: it's just that I needed some sort of release. I was sick and tired of living by the rules, having to set an example for others – when do I get to cut loose and break the rules? When do I get to be a normal teenager? When do I get to have fun?
I kind of forgot how many shots I had after a while, though I'm guessing it was quite a few, since I couldn't even pronounce my own name by the end of the night, (yes, I've started to refer to it as 'night' as well). It was totally worth it though, the feeling of being able to let go and be reckless was, well, amazing. I danced with this gorgeous guy too, he had a breathtaking smile, nice hair and razor sharp abs – I'm pretty sure we made out for half an hour, (only stopping to get more vodka); he actually said I had a sexy ass, and, for once I didn't mind. I didn't mind that some random dude was touching me in places that even my boyfriend wasn't allowed to feel. I didn't care if I was behaving like a total slut, and would probably lose my job the next day. I didn't give a damn about the fact that I was drinking whilst under aged. I really didn't give a shit about anything. And it felt brilliant.
Though, the most incredible think about the night was the fact that Joe wasn't there, the fact that Miley and I didn't talk about him once, the fact that I was proving to him that I was fine without him. That I felt better than I ever had before. I was actually thinking of phoning him up and telling him all of this, because maybe, just maybe, he would realise that:
Every time his girlfriend forgot what Wiffleball was, there was a girl next door to him that knew all of the rules and was a pro at the game.
Every time his girlfriend brought around tea and cupcakes, there was a girl next door to him who knew that his favourite snacks were Dr. Pepper and Doritos.
Every time his girlfriend wanted to watch some random chick flick, there was a girl next door who knew that his favourite movie was 'Jeepers Creepers,' and had it on DVD.
Every time his girlfriend wanted to go out to some overpriced French restaurant, there was a girl next door who would happily stay with him, order pizza and wait until midnight for WWE to start.
Every time his girlfriend told him how much she liked him, there was a girl next door who loved him, and he missed out on everything they could have had together.
Screw You Joe Grey.