Some of the things happening may not exactly coresspond with what happened in real life, but just go with it ok? If anything offends you, I'm sorry. And without any further ado...
Demi and I have known each other for a long time, but you probably already know that cause of Wikipedia or whatever. I remember in one of my interviews I was asked what it was like to have a sort of epic history of going through fame with your best friend and meeting her at the start where both of our dreams took off into reality. My answer was simple; she's my best friend and I love her.
I'll always love Demi, no doubt about it. No matter how far our distance, whether I'm back in Texas and she's touring in France we always have a special place in both of our hearts for each other. The rift between us may grow large; fame drives a deep wedge into close relationships, that's why a friend of mine, Taylor Swift, for the first time ever in her life span of around 22 years, broke up with a boy first. Well, that boy was Taylor Launter and he always shows up to Taylor's concerts if he can. He was invited to the CMA's and the first picture he took was with Taylor. His first major movie, as you all know was "Twilight". He was the best friend that tried to turn boyfriend and lost.
I guess both Demi and I have a little bit of Jacob in the both of us. We both went our seperate ways for awhile, then wondered where the other was, but thought "She's probably better off without me". We both thought we were dead weight to the other. Demi was always a better singer than me and I told her that and how I wished I could sing like her, hit the high and long notes with ease, and shake it while I'm at it. And she would tell me that I was the better actress(I usually blushed when she said this). After all, she said I had my own TV show first. Demi doesn't know it still to this day, but I gave the director of Sonny With A Chance a few convincing words to push my bestie to the lead role. I knew she'd probably already got it anyway, but I just wanted to be sure. After all I was Selena Gomez, star on the rise, what could the director say when I recommended Demi? I remember when they first started shooting, at first I was there 24/7. Every rehersal, every take.
Then my hands started to get full. Wizards of Waverly Place was taking off like a skyrocket and I had little time to visit my Sonny on set. I apologized for my continous absences, but Demi said everything was cool. Then the "jelly bracelet" pictures. Demi was wearing a dress I'd picked at the mall a while back. Her hand was holding her dress out in a pose, and then I saw her wrist. I'll never forget the dark color of the hideous cresents that layed upon my Demi's skin. Mortified, I called her in desperation. Just bracelets, she told me. Really? Could she not see how many people were freaking out about it? Could she not see how I was freaking out? I managed to calm myself and Demi reassured me everything was fine, just a bad misunderstanding and hung up.
But my fear and anxieties were not to be smoothed over and be so easily set aside. I did my best to keep an eye on her. I even called her sister Dallas, and she texted me with updates on her younger sister. Supposedly, nothing happened and my worries were finally sated. Then, another pipe bomb.
Demi rung my doorbell in California, in the middle of a storm, the pouring rain and flickering tongues of lightening. I pratically dragged her in; afraid of her catching a cold which was stupid now that I think about it; it was the least of my worries. My mother fetched her a towel that Demi dried her hair briefly with. She asked me if we could go upstairs, I presumed because of one of my rather excited dogs. She asked me to lock the room door and then peeled back her soaked jacket. Blood and rain were both slick on her pale skin, I almost cried out in grief. And she told me that she had done it herself, that she'd been doing it for years. I'd already known about her odd eating habits, but kept it to myself, the oddity of going to the bathroom after every meal. I begged her to get help and she thought I thought she was a freak.
She ignored my calls and texts, barely mentioned me in her interviews. She started hanging out with Miley, the soon-to-be controversital former teen pop star. Miley had been Disney's golden girls for years now, her "Best of Both Worlds" gimmick worked wonders for her, as did her fake blonde wig. She got tours, taped preformances, interviews, album after album. I was runner up, Miss Soon-To-Be Disney and Demi was next in line. My Texas buddy hadn't shown any of her singing talent, which I knew was her strongest suit, her ace in the hole. But her show "comedy within a comedy" was hilarious, but didn't exactly "bust the charts" as some said. Neither Demi or I cared. We both worked for and in the same company, we both had our own TV shows. The wild card was Miley and her friend that was slowly breaking away and reaching the high peak in the country music business like no other, Taylor Swift.
Now, don't get me wrong, Taylor's a good person, anyone can see that. Her songs are heartfelt, a sing-aloud diary for many hearbroken girls, young and old alike(maybe a few gay guys here and there). But it was almost like the blonde and brunette duo had planned it. Taylor took an interest in me, how could I not be thrilled; she was a huge star and I was beyond flattered. And our Disney queen, Miley Ray Cyrus, took a very strong liking to my Demi. At first, for the both of Demi and I it was just on set talking about our work and such with the megastars. Then it turned to lunch and lunch turned to movies and movies turned to shopping. Then we were turning each other down for the sake of our excitement with the big dogs in the company, so to speak.
It boiled over one night when Demi called and I shot her down for the fourth time in a row in favor of Taylor. I'm going to say it again and no blame is to be placed, but it was like Miley and Taylor had planned it. Demi and I seemed to heading down the unhappy side of friendship and I didn't know how to turn us back around. Demi and I actually yelled at each other during that dreadful phone call and it ended with my saying of "Ask Miley where my best friend is, because I can't find her anywhere". The next thing I know I'm hearing "Ask Taylor" everywhere and getting insistent microphones shoved into my face for prying answers. I knew it was all my fault. Demi was emotionally sensitive for a good reason and I had thrown that caution to the wind in anger. Demi and I lacked the time to get in touch no matter how hard I tried, which fueled the fire of the press, saying that we were ignoring each other, our friendship was over and we had found new best friends in Taylor and Miley. I was angry at Taylor for a long time, even though she nowhere near deserved it; she barely knew what was going on, but she was a comfort to me anyway. I swallowed my pride and kept it to myself though
The next year or so flew by. Sonny With A Chance was in full swing and I now wore the crown of Disney, but I heard Demi was almost dangerous on set. I heard she was irritatiable and cranky and had been that way for a long time. I had already guest starred on her show a long time ago, but I made an arrangement with the director without any tricks. Demi was still seeing Miley, just not as often. Taylor and I, on the other hand were laughing together almost every night. I used to go bowling with Demi, instead I went with Taylor. Taylor's peak in fame had passed, but not completely; she was nowhere near the brink of obsurcity and never would be, her accomplishments were too great for her not to go down in history. Every time she won an award I was one of the first to congratulate. First Female Entertainer of the Year, god I was so happy for her. Maybe if I'd payed more attention I would have seen the hurtful look on Demi's face from her spot beside Miley. Speaking of Miley, she was finding her own "ways" to remain revelant in the scenes of acting, etc. I thought the whole "Can't Be Tamed" thing was too big a jump so soon and I was right. Taylor was squeaky clean and Miley was more and more tainted around every corner.
Demi was on her plane to her next tour. I got a text some time after the tour had started. She told me that Miley and her were going on tour together, even though Miley wouldn't be performing. She was bringing her as a friend. It cut me deep and made me feel like she had only called me to mock me. I knew I was busy and all, but she could of at least offered, right? I told her I was happy for her even though there were tears in my eyes when I texted it.
Then my manager told me shocking news soon after we finished taping. He told me he hadn't wanted to interupt and I was furious at him when I heard it had something to do with my far away best friend.
Demi was going to rehab. My anger was gone faster than Alex Russo could wave her wand.
Demi. My Demi. My Demi that I had met on the gateway to our dreams, my Demi that I had comforted when she was bullied, my Demi that'd I once stopped from commiting suicide which only her and I knew about, my Demi that I'd even kissed a few times on dares and youthful curiousity. My Demi with her beautiful brown eyes and silky hair and wonderful, heartstopping smile...gone. Her tour along with the rest of her life was in abrupt stop and now they've thrown my Demi in rehab. My first thoughts on people to blame came in this order: Miley (trouble from the start), Disney (they probably told her if she didn't 'get help' they'd fire her, cancel the show, etc, etc), Joe (Yes, yes the Jonas one. Idiot. No, not you, Joe), Ashley Greene (only suspected because of her dating Joe), possibly a background singer or dancer.
It turns out my assumptions were pretty much right. Apparently Miley threw a party and there was cocaine (which I later found out that Demi did NOT take in anyway). The party was supposed to be secret and I guess Miley was just being stupid like always and for some dumbass reason told Demi that one of the dancers had squealed on them. Alex Welsh, I remember her...bright orange hair. She was passionate, but very needy attention-wise and loved her paycheck like her mother. Demi got pissed aobut it (She's always had a temper) and she puched orange head in the eye. Her manager told her she couldn't go on tour that way and Demi agreed. Disney of course, tried to make it sound sweet and simple and I'd almost smacked them across the face when they told me I couldn't say anything without their say-so. 'Emotional and physical promblems'? The nerve of those mouse-eared airheads!
Every time that something happend to a Disney star (like trying to grow up or take off the princess mask. No I'm not talking about anyone specific) Disney always covered just their ass (Apologies for all the cussing, but I'm upset right now). So let's see...Disney, Miley, the dancer...ah yes...Joe.
Where do I begin with him. If case you haven't noticed, the Jonas Brothers seemed to have dated half the celebrity world. Mostly Disney tried to put them with rising stars to boost their popularity and just so you know that included me, Demi, Taylor, and Miley. I saw a interview a while back about Joe talking about finding his special lady (after his breakup with Ashley). Bullshit, Joe. Remember how the story of Taylor ended. Under a half-minute phone call? Does that ring any bells, Mr. Cool? And for those of you that don't know this, his relationship with Demi was fake. I didn't believe when I heard it, but Demi told me in person. I mean when they started 'dating' they were kissing and holding hands, hell, I even went to dinner with them once! While I was still single! And they were all over each other! Well, now that I think about it Demi was all over him. I never really remember Joe kissing her back unless she started it. Joe only laced their hands together in public when the press was around. Joe's a f****** player. He faked dated my best friend and dated a movie star, showered her with gifts and then shrugged her off like dirty coat. I already mentioned Taylor and you do not want to get me started again.
I called Demi as soon as I could when she went into rehab. I was sobbing uncontrollably (not very dignified). I felt horrible. Maybe if I'd insisted on going none of this would have happened. Maybe if I hadn't been too busy with my own show to check on my best friend I would have seen somthign was wrong. Maybe if I hadn't been so caught up with Taylor...the list keeps going on for miles. I felt like because of me Demi was in rehab. I didn't even know if they were treating her alright! I didn't know if they had comfortable beds, windows, if the patients were allowed visitors (which they were, thank God). Hell, I didn't even know if she was allowed outside! Demi reassured me that she was alright and being treated just fine, but I told her I was going to see for myself. I practically heard her roll her eyes over the phone and I told her if she or anyone else tried to stop me, or if she was being mistreated I was going to kick some f****** a**. I got a 'Yes m'am' and the phone call ended with a giggle that set my heart aflutter like it always had.
I had to cancel a couple of things to clear my schedule to visit Demi, but I canceled them so fast I don't even remember what they were. I'm pretty sure there was an 'E' somewhere...I was in Illinois faster than you could blink, almost giving the receptionist a heart attack when I hurled myself at the front desk and blurted Demi's name. I was escorted to Demi's room and I almost broke the door down in my worried desperation.
"Demi!" I cried, shooting forward faster than a laser beam. The man that escorted me said he'd be back in 30 minutes to check on us and then excused himself from the room that was bathed in painful plainess.
"Selena!" She threw herself at me and we collided with a somewhat painful thump. Her arms wrapped around me in a loving embrace, I gladly returned the favor with an enthusiam I had been lacking for a long time. I wanted to ask her if she was ok, but the building we were in answered that question so I just nuzzled my face against her neck, the same emotion that I had felt when I told her we were going to be home schooled together rose from my heart. Love. The feeling swelled from my chest, making it harder for me to speak.
It came out in a strangled, "I love you.", and we squeezed each other tighter, our ribs starting to groan in protest. I hadn't left her to be alone then, and I wasn't going to now. I'd abandoned her for so long...
"Demi, I'm so sorry." Tears pricked at my eyes, blurring my vision. I blinked and two small rivers ran down my cheeks. Three words always seem so pitful to offer someone who's been through the journey of depression and all its horrors, no matter how much emotion laced them. But the three words were all I had to offer in apology for now.
"It's ok, Sel...and I know."
I pulled back reluctantly. "That I'm sorry?" Her face and eyes softened, her hands put themselves on my cheeks, the thumbs wiping away the shameful tears. "Yes, but that's not what I meant. I know that you're sorry," I couldn't help it - I flinched. "But I also know that you love me...and I love you too." Joy, surprise, and unbelievable happiness coursed through my veins like water breaking through a dam, I felt as if the swirling waves would never stop and carry me to the end of time. We'd both told each other we loved the other, taking the words as part of the bond of friendship that had grown into something else. The weight of this moment left no room for misinterpretation. "I've loved you since the day we met Sel, since we weren't even seven years old, and you've showed me just how much you love me over all these years."
Love at first sight...I can say I know what that's like now.
Without another thought, I took her face in my hands - the way she was holding mine - and kissed her. Her soft palms molded against my cheeks as she kissed me back. It was an explosion of fireworks and the gentle like the summer breeze, it was rough like waves before a storm and soothing like the feeling of silk under my lips, it was hot with desire and lust and sweet with love and caring. God, oh God...I was kissing Demi Lovato.
I was kissing Demi Lovato, another girl, another celebrity, another actress, my first best friend, my non blood-related sister, my new lover. She would be my first and last. I would watch over and care for her until the day I died. I would do to the best of my ability - even if it killed me - to be sure that she was always smiling or content. I would give her everything she wanted without a second thought, make sure she got what she needed, even cancel all my tours and movies and photoshoots to be with her. I promised to myself to do all those things as long as I still had a moving breath in my body.
Her lips had a frantic energy to them, as did mine. I wanted to take everything and wanted to savor it at the same time. Our tongues brushed against each other and jntertwined repeatedly, our hands started to grope at each other. With my hands at her hips, I propelled Demi backwards, onto the bed. She was on her back with her knees up and spread apart with me between. I stopped for the need of air and took in my angel's face.
Her thick hair spread around her head like a black halo, her face was flushed and her chest rose and fell as she panted. "God, you're so beautiful." I said breathlessly. She managed a small smile before she lunged forward at me, catching me by surprise, and flipping our positions so fast that air left my lungs. Her delicate, but strong hands slid tantilizingly up my legs and to my thighs. I'd never been happier at my choice of day to wear a skirt...Demi's hands paused at my heat, making me groan with frustration.
"Sel..." I met her eyes with my clouded ones. "Are you sure?"
"I haven't been more sure in my life." I croaked. She smiled lovingly at me; my heart swelled again and my heart skipped a beat. Just as her hands touched my core, I squeezed her sides with knees. She looked up with the gaze of a starved wolf. "Jeans off."
She complied readily, throwing the rest of her clothes off along with the dark denim.
So...um, yeah...Demi and I - you know - we did it way past our thirty minutes. I'm not sure why my escort didn't show up until like three hours later, when Demi and I were finally clothed and breathing properly. Oh my God...what if he knew what we had been doing? Holy - that thought makes me so embarressed! So - ahem - I visited Demi as many times as I could, canceling what I was able. My visits went mostly undetected by the sharks of the press, always eagerly circling, their serrated teeth in the form of microphones and cameras. Demi missed holidays with her family, including Thanksgiving. I brought Demi both the gifts of her family and gifts of my own. I held her hand and kissed her through her loneliness.
But she was out now, healthier than ever, and raring to go. We 'celebrated' at my house while my parents were away. She may be on tour now, but our distance doesn't lessen our love any less. I'm Selena and she's Demi, and together we are unbroken.
Btw the thing about Joe fake dating Demi is true. Demi loved him but Joe only dated her to promote Camp Rock 2. If you don't believe me, look it up. People close to Joe and Demi tell the press that it was fake. Stupid Jemis *growl*
I love how easily I can imagine Selena doing the whole throwing herself against the desk thing...lol
