But I'm Different (A Demi Lovato Fanfiction)

Chapter: Lost and Found

"If the weapon is your love, I got my hands up..."

The bass thudded through the floor, shaking the soles of my feet. I couldn't breathe-at least, not in the normal way. It was like every breath I took was laced with awe and pride and just pure disbelief. I stood at the side of the stage, eyes locked on Demi, watching her glow like something otherworldly under the stage lights. Her voice soared into the final chorus of Hold Up, one of my all-time favourites, and the crowd absolutely lost their minds.

She was unstoppable. This night-this moment-felt surreal.

"Thank you so much Detroit! You lot were amazing tonight. What a way to kick off the tour. I love you all, goodnight!" Demi shouted, throwing her arms in the air, sweat-drenched and smiling so hard I thought her face might crack.

The second she walked offstage, I couldn't help but run up to her.

"Oh my god, Demi, that was incredible!" I shouted, still buzzed with adrenaline.

She laughed, brushing damp hair from her forehead. "How was your first real Demi concert, huh?"

"W-O-N-D-E-R-F-U-L," I spelled out with a clap between each letter.

She rolled her eyes and disappeared into her dressing room, and I floated off like I was drunk on the energy of it all.

Our next stop was Mashantucket, Connecticut. Shorter drive, but still long enough to soak in the afterglow of tonight. I'd only just begun to feel like I belonged here, like I wasn't just some extra piece in Demi's world, but part of the show-even if I wasn't on stage.

"Hey, Brini," Demi's voice called, yanking me from my thoughts.

I looked up to see her peeking out from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, clearly fresh out the shower. She wasn't showing much, just her top half, but she still had that chaotic, flustered energy she always did after a concert.

"Can you grab my pajamas? They're in the sitting room."

I snorted. "What, too scared to walk past the crew in your towel?"

"I will throw a slipper at your head, I swear," she said with a smirk.

I went, grabbed the ridiculous onesie she loved, and handed it over without another word. She grinned like I'd just handed her the moon.

Back in my bunk, I pulled out my sketchbook and started doodling. Drawing was my quiet. My escape. I liked drawing scenes from my life, not exactly how they looked, but how they felt. I started sketching a blurry silhouette on a stage under lights, mic in hand. Demi. Always Demi.

Time passed, and slowly the noise on the bus died down. Everyone was either asleep or off doing their own thing. And me? I was restless.

I needed air. Space. Quiet.

I knew Demi would probably freak, but I convinced myself it was fine. I just needed ten, maybe fifteen minutes. I slipped on a coat over my onesie, checked my phone-37 percent-and quietly snuck off the bus.

The night air hit my face like cold water. I took a breath. Then another. The streets weren't loud, but there was still life humming in the background. I didn't go far-just enough to clear my head. Or at least that was the plan.

Then... darkness. My phone shut off like someone had yanked the plug. My stomach dropped.

I pressed the power button. Nothing.

37 percent. It had 37 percent.

"Please no," I whispered, voice shaking.

Panic crawled up my spine like ice water. I was lost. I didn't know this city, this area, anything. Every street looked the same in the dark. I didn't even know how far I'd wandered. My fingers trembled as I checked my coat pockets for coins, anything I could use for a payphone.