Even Heroes Have Scars

[24] Mistaken

Demi's P.O.V.

I had been in my room on my computer most of the day, figuring out things for my tour. Rehearsal started tomorrow and I wasn't quite ready. My manager had sent me a list of outfits to pick from for her to order for me, and I had just finished picking those. I had also been watching videos of people dancing to figure out who would be my backup dancers. Then I had to figure out the set list, all of which were done. Now, all that was left was things I couldn't do until rehearsal actually started tomorrow.

The guard at the gate had called through the house to say that Ansley was here. They no longer had to ask us because she was considered a regular. I perched myself on a chair to look out the window as her car parked in the driveway where it always did. She sat in her car for a while. In my hand lay her Thank You card for the necklace she gave me. Ever since I opened her gift, I wore the necklace. It was beautiful, like her. It was such a thoughtful gift.

I didn't receive what I originally wanted, though. But, of course, I hadn't told anybody what I truly, deeply longed for: freedom. I was such a bitch, the way I didn't want Wilmer the way he wanted me, but you can't be forced into love.

Once Ansley stepped out her car, I fixed my hair and her necklace on my neck, then slowly crept out of my room, onto the stairs.

I was sad that she couldn't stay, but I didn't believe that she just had something to do at her apartment. Perhaps she was avoiding me. Was she really just not at work today? Of course not, she was wearing her uniform. I must've done something wrong last night. She was the second one to leave early and she obviously didn't look happy. Maybe it was just that she didn't like me anymore, that I had been a bitch to her, that I couldn't hold a steady friendship with a normal person who didn't have thousands of followers on Twitter or Instagram, or was on the covers of magazines and everyone knew. She probably would be soon, though. Every day, I search my name just to see what rumors had been started and there were pictures of her, even a video in that store where I said her name was Ansley and that she was my friend. Maybe she hated that spotlight. Fuck, this was my fault. I was so stupid. She was at a party where she didn't know anybody personally because they were all famous. Fuck you, Demi!

She looked at me on the stairs. My hand had been resting on the railing, her card in my other hand. As the door closed, her eyes fell on me again, and that was it. She left. And I was alone again.

"Demi," my mom said as she spun around and spotted me. "She had things to do today."

"No," I shook my head. "She hates me."

With that, I ran back up the stairs and locked myself in my room. I had received a canopy chair last night and Eddie hung it in my room by my window earlier today. I sat in it as it rocked back and forth and hugged my knees to my chest, expecting someone, probably Wilmer, to come knocking at my door any second, even if he was watching television with Eddie, he would still come upstairs. But he never did. I was left alone in my room, softly crying into the jeans on my legs, my head shoved between my knees. My fault. My fault.

My nails dug into my arms until skin peeled. My head throbbed from crying and my heart pounded with guilt.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It hadn't scared me, though, because I was expecting it.

"Go away, Wilmer!" I cried out.

The door opened and Dallas stood in the doorway with a spoon in her hand. Um...okay.

"How did you..."

"I used the spoon to turn the lock," she shrugged and threw the spoon on my bed.

"Leave me alone," my voice was hoarse and thick, raspy. "I want to be alone."

"I don't want you to be alone," she shut the door and leaned against it. "What happened, Demi?"