I Hate You, Don't Leave Me (D.L)

One Song

“Okay, man. Here we go.” Lindsey, Richard and Ken had snuck into another studio with the tape Lindsey had of Demi’s voice. “What’s all this about?” Ken asked; he hadn’t been told anything, only that Lindsey had discovered something big. “Just listen.” Lindsey told him and pressed play on the machine. The tape contained him singing along with Demi, as well as the earlier recording of her own song. When both songs with Lindsey had finished, he paused the machine. “Well?” He asked, looking at the two producers. They were speechless. Lindsey folded his arms across his chest and smiled smugly. “Told you so.” He said. “She’s…” Richard trailed off, looking to Ken for help. “…Fucking amazing.” Ken finished for him. “Yea, that’s what she is.” Richard said. Lindsey pressed the play button again. “There’s more?” Ken asked. “You’re not complaining are you?” Lindsey asked. “No! I want to here more.” Lindsey smiled. “This is her playing on her own, singing her own song.” He told them just as Demi began to sing. The lovely song mesmerized the three men. “Who’s that?” The three of them whipped around to look at the door. Lindsey quickly switched the machine off. Mick stood in the doorway, confused as to why they had all acted hastily. “What?” Lindsey asked, hoping to derail Mick’s curiosity. “Who was that singing?” Mick asked, knowing exactly what Lindsey was doing. Lindsey sighed. “It’s Demi.” He replied, pressing play again. As it finished, Mick asked for the tape to be rewound and replayed. As the tape began to play through again, the other three members of Fleetwood Mac found their way into the spare studio. When the tape ended for the fourth time, the band and their producers looked at each other. “She’s such a beautiful singer.” Stevie said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “She’s very good, I have to say.” Mick said, folding his arms across his chest. “Thank you.” Everyone looked towards the door, where Demi was stood, her eyes shooting daggers at Lindsey. “Demi, why didn’t you tell us you could sing? And play the guitar.” Christine asked. “I can also play the piano.” Demi said, walking further into the room, making her way towards Lindsey. When she stopped in front of him, she lowered her voice. “Why did you record me?” She hissed. “Because you’re really good. And I couldn’t keep that to myself. I had to let everyone hear.” “It wasn’t something for you to share!” Demi said, raising her voice. The others crept out of the room, leaving Lindsey and Demi alone. “Lindsey, I let you hear me sing in confidence. I’m not a singer.” “But why! You’re a great singer! You’re way up there with all the greats! You could be really big!” “No!” Demi yelled at him. Lindsey stared at her, shell-shocked. “No…” Demi whispered, beginning to sob. Lindsey wrapped his arms around her, though she tried to thrash her way out of his grasp. “Shh.” Lindsey cooed, stroking her hair. Soon, Demi stopped crying and took a deep breath. “Are you gonna tell me why you won’t admit you're talented?” Demi sighed. “Because it’s not what grandpa would have wanted.” Demi replied, using a nearby mirror to fix her makeup. Lindsey raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean?” “My grandpa never wanted me to be an entertainer.” “Why? That’s bullshit! He worked with entertainers for years!” “Yes, but my parents were entertainers. They were on their way to a show when their car got bulldozed by a truck.” Demi replied bluntly. Lindsey didn’t know what to say. Demi never really spoke about her parents, so to hear Demi tell him how they died in such an emotionless manner was a little hard for Lindsey to take. But it was harder watching Demi suffer as she remembered the parents she never really knew. “My grandpa blamed their career for their deaths. He felt that if they had had normal jobs like other people, they would have never been in that car in the first place becaus they wouldn't have had to travel so much. They would have been at home... with me.” Tears rolled slowly down Demi’s cheeks again, breaking Lindsey’s heart. “Oh, Demi…” He pulled her close and she sobbed into his chest. “I don’t want to do anything he wouldn’t be proud of!” Demi exclaimed through her tears. “But you’d make your parents proud.” Lindsey reasoned. Demi looked up at him; he could see her processing his words. “One song.” She said. Lindsey nodded in agreement. “Friday. I’ll being everything with me then.” “Okay Demi. Okay.”