Even Heroes Have Scars (Revised)

[2] Somebody New

Note: I am attempting to keep this as similar and realistic to Demi's life at the time as possible. Demi has come out as non-binary in real life, but up until the chronological point in the story where Demi discovers this about themselves, Demi's pronouns will remain as she/her unless one of you readers asks me to change that.

"Somebody New" - Chapter Title based on Demi Lovato's unreleased song with that same name.

Demi's P.O.V.

Jacob was a really cute kid. He was shy, very obviously so. I noticed him being extremely closed off when around my little sister and her friends, and something just seemed very... anxiously depressed about his mannerisms, like he wasn't used to being allowed to be himself. Perhaps he didn't even know himself?

I was used to people acting strange around me. Being a famous popstar had its perks, of course, but it also had its downfalls – one of which being that people always act abnormal around me. Something was different about him, though.

As soon as I opened the door and met his sister, Ansley, I realized exactly where he got it from. Well, aside from the traumatic past he informed me about: the loss of his parents.

Ansley was a beautiful girl, with brownish-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a raspy voice. She was so thin, though. Don't get me wrong – she was still absolutely breathtaking, but she was so frail and tiny for her age. I was small from extreme workouts and dieting, but she was even smaller than me. She was taller than I was by about three inches, but she probably weighed twenty pounds less than me. I recognized the thinness all too well; it wasn't a healthy one. I wanted to help her the moment I laid eyes on her.

About halfway through me dragging Ansley through the foyer of my house, I realized I hadn't introduced myself. "Oh, I'm Demi. Sorry, I forgot to tell you that. Your brother is friends with my little sister, Madison."

In a very exhausted breath, Ansley mumbled, "I know who you are."

Yep, she was definitely starstruck. She was hardly breathing, and her feet could hardly keep up with me, so once we reached the living room, I invited her to sit on the couch with me, about two feet of space between us as to not overwhelm her even more.

"So, you know who I am? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I asked as I faced her, pulling my feet onto the couch and crossing my legs in front of me; I wanted her to know she had my full, undivided attention.

She smiled, her hands tightly clasping each other in her lap. "It's a good thing. I'm a big fan."

"Oh, you are?" I grinned back at her, hoping she could relax some and engage in a coherent conversation with me. "For how long?"

She blushed. "Since the release of Skyscraper, mostly. I was a fan of you on Disney, but you singing Skyscraper saved my life."

My chest grew tight at that. "Aww. You're so sweet for saying that, but honey, you saved your own life. Don't credit other people for your bravery and strength." I smiled at her again, tilting my head to the side a little like a puppy.

She looked down at her legs and hands now, her hands moving to cover her scars and keeping her wrists facing down.

"What's that about?" I probed, following her gaze. Shit, I shouldn't have said that.

Her head shook in response to my question. "Nothing, really. I'm just awkward and nervous. You're so pretty."

I giggled softly but reached out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "You have no reason to be nervous. You're beautiful, too. You don't have to cover any part of yourself, not even your scars. They show you've been through something and came out on the other side. That's why I don't hide mine anymore. They're part of me and my story."