Nobody Does it Like You (Delena Fanfiction)

Chapter 11

*Demi’s POV*

"Excuse me," I heard in my dreams. I looked around and faced Ms. Gomez. She was right in front of me. "Excuse me," She repeated. What the heck is she trying to say? "What?" I answered. "EXCUSE ME," She yelled. What is going on? All of the sudden, someone grabbed my shoulders and began to shake them. My eyes opened quickly, and the flight attendant stood in front of me. "Oh, I'm sorry. What happened?" I asked. She looked really upset. "We have landed in Los Angeles, and we're waiting for you to leave." I looked around, and realized there was not a single person left on the plane.

"Oh shit, sorry." I gathered my things quickly and rushed out of the airplane. I walked to the arrival room, where the taxi driver was supposed to be waiting for me. When I walked I saw a man dressed in a tuxedo, with a sign saying "Lovato". I smiled and jogged over there happily. He saw me and asked, "Demetria?" I nodded excitedly, "Call me Demi." He nodded and led me to the parking garage. I looked around and looked for a bright yellow taxi, but I couldn't seem to find one. I saw the driver holding the door open to a long, white Hummer limo. My jaw dropped. "Oh my god, this is for me?" He laughed and said yes. I jumped into the back seat and turned on the little television. It was on a gossip channel. They were saying something about Hollywood Records, so I turned it up louder as the driver pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

"Hollywood Records is said to be signing a new artist from Dallas, Texas. We haven't received any more information on who this artist is, or what she looks like, but we have heard she is the generation's best vocalist. So keep your eyes and ears open, we'll have more info tomorrow." Said the reporter. My mouth hung open. Were they talking about me? Oh my god, I'm never going to get used to this. And by the way I'm from New Mexico, lady.

The driver called out from the front seat, "Demi, you'll be going to the Ritz Carlton. Am I correct?" Woah, that's a really nice hotel. "I guess so, sir." I stared out the window, admiring how the palm trees swayed in the moonlight. "When you check in, you must use your fake name. Do you know what is?" I shook my head, "No." He looked at me from the rearview mirror. "Remember, Sonny Monroe." I nodded and repeated quietly. "Sonny Monroe." I watched the coastline for the rest of the drive. When the driver parked, I said thanks, grabbed my things, and walked into the hotel.

I walked up to the check in desk. "Hello, how may I help you?" the manager smiled. "Um, hi. I would like to check in. My name is erm... Sonny... um..." The manager looked confused, "Are you having trouble thinking of your name?" He laughed as if recognizing who she is. "Oh! Sonny Monroe." I smiled, "Yeah! How did you know?" "Hollywood Records told us. I have also heard a lot about you. You must be good, I wish you luck with your career. Hollywood Records never seemed as excited as they are now. They have some big plans for you, Demi." He smiled. I was shocked. "Wow, thank you." "Can I like take a picture with you so I can say I knew you before you were famous?" He asked. I laughed, "Ok." He took out his phone and we took a selfie, sticking our tongues out. "You're in room 1467. Here's your key." He handed me my things and I went up the elevator and into my room.

I entered my room, got changed into some pajamas, and laid on my bed, turning on the tv. I changed the channel to MTV and the music video for Zendaya's "Swag it Out" came on. I watched it with full interest. I really liked this song. I like all of Zendaya's songs. After the song, I turned off the tv and went to sleep.

I woke up with the sunlight blinding me. I forgot to close the blinds last night, wow. I stood up sleepily and shut the blinds. I was about to go back into bed, but I saw it was 10:30 am. Shit. I was supposed to be at Hollywood Records at 11:30 sharp. I went in the shower and got out about five minutes later. I put on some black leggings and a band shirt with a blazer. I quickly tied the laces on my Nikes and ran out of the hotel room, guitar in hand. By the time I got down to where the limo was waiting, it was 11:00. "Hello again, Demi." said the driver. "Hi... I never got your name, sir." "It's Louis." He said and smiled. "Hello, Louis, we should head to the studio now." He laughed and drove off. I forgot to call my parents, shit. I took out my phone and dialed my mom's number.