Even Heroes Have Scars

[53] World of Chances

Ansley's P.O.V.

~81 Hours Before Demi Leaves Dallas~

In the mail today, I found a letter. My blood pressure rose when I saw it was from Demi. It was probably mailed Friday or Saturday. Before the incident.

I dug my finger under the flap and tore it open. Inside was a card.

It read:

Friday, September 18, 2014

Dear Ansley and Jacob,

I've invited you to my farewell party! As you know, I'm leaving for tour Thursday night to make it to my show Friday! The party is at my house on Thursday, from 6pm until 10pm! I really hope you can come!

Love,
Demi

PS- Here are two concert tickets for my show in L.A. Friday! Check your email for the plane tickets! Love you!

In my right hand, I held the tickets, and in my left hand, I held the card. My fingers pinched together tightly, crumbling the papers slightly. I mumbled a few curse words under my breath.

"Anna?" Hayden called out from the couch where he was sorting through bills. "What's wrong?"

I growled to myself. "Bitch sent me mail. An invitation to her farewell party and concert tickets."

He rose and eyebrow and stood from the couch, standing beside me next to the counter. As he looked over the invitation, he squinted in that way he always did.

"The hell? Well, says she mailed this on Friday, so it isn't her fault it just came in. But still." He sighed, examining the tickets. "Are you going to go?"

I scoffed loudly. "Seriously? No! Ugh!" I grumbled, stomping into my room.

She was given chances. So many chances. Too many chances. I gave her a world of chances and this was how she repaid me?

It was a little over a month that I dedicated to her. Never again would I do something so foolish. Celebrities are all the same. Heroes have scars, but I wasn't aware of the fact that heroes scarred people as well. New rule, I guessed.

Demi's P.O.V.

~80 Hours Before Demi Leaves Dallas~

Today, I had to be back at rehearsal, which was absolutely glorious. Pretended to be happy. Smiled at everyone. Laughed at not-so-funny jokes from my new guitarist. It worked until I had to face Phil, my manager, which topped everything off perfectly.

I had been standing beside my bag, chugging down gulps of room-temperature water, and then he approached me. He made a point to be subtle and quiet about it.

"So, uh, how was yesterday for you?" He drank from his own bottle of water as I capped mine.

"Started out good. Last night...not so much." I stuffed my bottle back into my bag.

He rose an eyebrow.

With a sigh, I rested on a metal chair, and he pulled one up beside me. "She dumped me. Twenty hours and we were over. Phil, I cheated on her-"

"You what?!"

I explained everything to him. Even the song. He comforted me when I cried, but it still hurt. The pain was all too fresh, the mental cuts too raw.

When he asked about the song, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to share it with him. I couldn't listen to it.

But I handed him the CD from my bag. He listened to it on his laptop with headphones, his eyes closed. His head bobbed every now and then. After it finished, he smiled softly, showing his sorrow for me.