Heeeey! Ready for more? Thank you so much for all your support and reviews, you guys rock! I love the feedback! Sorry this took so long, I've been really busy. This chapter is really short, so again, I apologize, but at least it's something!

Selena

Well, I'm not fired, and my boss now considers me a genius for getting that shot of Demi shredding The Now. I couldn't help but wonder how the latest information would affect her fan rates, and I hoped this wouldn't drive her to do anything irrational, like cutting.

I still feel completely humiliated about singing, especially in front of a big celebrity like her. Her skills are way out of my league, and I know it. For some reason, though I want to be good enough to impress her.

My keyboard is in the closet, and I get it out and play the song she had sung, except for I don't sing. I simply play the melody, and a calm washes over me, letting me know everything's going to be okay.

When the song ends, though, I feel like throwing something. This is my real dream, but my brother had stolen it. Then, as if to make it worse, he had succeeded. I had always thought his music was stupid and meaningless, but apparently that stuff sells.

Unfortunately, he lived in a different city. If he lived here, I would be putting articles about him in The Now every day, each one more vicious then the last. I just hate the fact that I had a dream, he learned about it, then stole it.

I've always blamed him for getting me into this whole paparazzi mess. Now that Demi heard me sing and was horrified, I guess I should thank him. Her facial expression obviously meant I was terrible, and coming from a celebrity, it must be true.

Just thinking about it all made me flashback to the last time I had tried to sing. It had happened right after Justin became famous, and I was completely hyped up about performing in front of my family. If they thought Justin had potential, wait until they heard me!

My grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins were all there. I had my keyboard set up, my water bottle, and my voice. I was ready.

"I call this song, Who Says," I said.

I start singing, and I'm pretty confident. I have my eyes closed at first, so I can fully concentrate on my music.

When I do open my eyes, I wished I hadn't.

No one is smiling or looking even somewhat supportive. Most of my family is scowling.

Now more hesitantly, I start the chorus,

Who says, who says your not perfect!

"I do!" My uncle shouted from the front. "In fact, you're far from it!"

Everyone started laughing and booing at me. I ran off in tears, promising myself to never sing again.

Now I had sang, and in front of Demi, one of the most famous girl singers I know of.

Demi

I woke up with the morning sun shining down brightly. At once, I checked the online version of The Now.

The picture she had picked was the one I had hoped she would. The caption below read, 'Life Saver or Crazy Popstar?'

This made me laugh. The whole article was talking about me being angry at The Now for making my life miserable, and I have to admit, they didn't even make me look that bad. I was impressed, and I couldn't help but wonder if Selena had anything to do with it.

Now, I had to figure out how to get her to help me with my song. I knew it would be a long shot, but I figured I would try the phone book. Maybe she had a home phone.

I grinned when there was only one 'Russo.' Instead of calling her like I had originally planned, I grabbed my keys and wrote down the address.

Selena Russo was in for a big surprise!

Selena

I frowned at the ceiling. My boss hadn't given me an assignment today, and I got the feeling it had something to do with the photo I had scored yesterday. Well, technically, all the credit goes to Demi.

The sunlight pouring through the cracks in my blinds tell me that it's not exactly morning any more. When I hear someone ring the bell. I groan. Jen must be out of the house, so I drag myself, still in my pajamas, down to see who's there.

I open the door.

Demi Torres is on my threshold.

The only thing left to do is slam the door shut, so I do just that. Right in her face.

Well, that was stupid. Automatically, I open the door back up, blushing.

"Sorry," I say, forgetting we aren't supposed to be talking.

"It's fine," Demi says.

I don't know exactly what I'm expected to do. There wasn't anything else I could manage besides moving aside silently and gesturing for her to come in.

Suddenly aware of my state of dress, I blush. My hair is sticking up in all places, I'm wearing a tank top and sweats, and I don't have any makeup on.

Oh well.

I take her to my room, since Jen and I have a mess in the living room. She sits on the unmade bed and looks up at me.

"I need your help," she starts, "I need you to tell me how you played that song before."

A pink blush heats up my cheeks, and I wince at the recollection. Why was she bringing that up?

She noticed my hesitation, and said, "why are you being so nervous?"

"Because I totally screwed up," I blurt. Now I just want to slap myself, but I managed to keep a straight face.

"You did not!" Demi sounds shocked. "Selena, you're really talented!"

I shake my head. Great, one of those people who just lie to boost confidence. The whole situation makes me want to throw something, but I manage to keep my hands in my lap.

"Look, I don't care what you think. That song was perfection, and I need the melody so I can use it, if that's okay."

Demi Torres wants to use a song that I made? A famous popstar likes my music? It's like a dream come true.

"I really don't think it's a good idea," I start, watching her face fall. There is no way I'm letting myself fall for that pouty face...even if it is extremely cute...

"It's a brilliant idea!" she protests.

I shake my head violently to the side. "Um, no, it's not. It's a terrible idea, and there's no way you want that song on an album. Everything you did was amazing, but you should come up with new background music. You can have the lyrics I sang."

"But..."

The door slammed. I realized Jen must've come home.

Demi ran to my closet and shut herself in it. Just in time, Jen opened my door and looked around. "Did I hear talking?"

"Um, yeah, I was, um, talking to myself."

She raised an eyebrow. "Talking to...yourself."

"Yeah, it's good for relieving stress you know," I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping she'd buy it.

"You've been acting really weird lately..." she shot me a suspicious look, then left. I breathed a sigh, then I remembered Demi was stuffed in my closet. I went and opened the door to find her rummaging through my clothes.

"This is cute," she was mumbling to herself. It was a band-tee with a cute sologan on the front, and it would look really good on her...

Focus Russo, you have a celebrity to kick out of your house.

"Demi, I think it's time you leave," I manage to put on a stern face and look her in the eye.

"Fine," she huffed, "but I'm coming back every day until you decide to show me how that melody went. And I'm kind of in a jam where I might lose a bunch of money if I don't have a song in a couple of days...so, that might help you make up your mind."

She walks out the door, and I watch her disappear.

"Oh, hey," Demi says to someone out in the entrance hall.

"Hey Demi," Jen says back listlessly. By the time she realizes who she just said hello to, the popstar is out the door. Two seconds later, my best friend is glaring at me from my doorway.

"You find a new celebrity best friend and don't tell me?"

"Jen, she's not my best friend, she was just over to...um...ask me a favor."

"What favor?"

"Nothing," I reply quickly. The less she knows, the less she'll bug me about it. Besides, I had a lot to think about. Demi had really helped me out of my work issues, wouldn't it only be fair if she did the same to me?

But at the same time, I just really didn't want to get involved with her. If my boss new...

Let's just say she would be in our magazine a lot.