"I'm really nervous. Maybe I can reschedule," Demi said as she stood outside of the audition room at Juliard. It had taken Odell a whole year to convince her to audition for the performing arts school because Demi didn't believe that she was good enough to get in. And if she wasn't, that meant that they would just let her in because who of her father was.
"You've rescheduled two times already. Look, playing piano is the most natural thing that I have ever seen you do. You can do this. And you know you want to do this," Odell coached as she slowly nodded. She did want to audition. She did want to do something with her life instead of just making popular YouTube videos and taking excessive amounts of pictures of herself.
"I'll be right outside. And your dad is with you too," Odell reminded her as he touched the locket secured around her neck. Before she could respond, the door opened and one of the judges came out.
"Demetria Lovato?" Demi raised her hand and gave Odell one last look before following her into the room. The door closed behind them and she took a deep breath as she stood in front of the five judges.
"Good morning, Demetria," one of the judges greeted as they all flashed her welcoming smiles.
"Good morning. You can call me Demi," she replied.
"Okay Demi, what do you have for us today?"
"I'll be playing an arrangement on the piano," Demi stated. The main judge, the one in the middle, gestured to the piano so she took that as her cue to begin. Before she placed her fingers on the keys, she touched her locket and took a deep breath. She didn't even need the sheet music because she had the chords memorized like the back of her hand. She started off with something a bit more complicated than the original arrangement because she really wanted to impress them, then she opened her mouth to sing.
"Daddy's little girl ties a ribbon around my heart. Daddy's little child waves goodbye to the ocean tide that sweeps me. Though we're apart, she's apart of me." If she looked at the judges she would probably throw up, so instead she kept her eyes on the keys.
"Demi smiles with the dawn. Demi smiles and she radiates the glow around her halo. When she plays, Demi smiles. On a summer day, Demi smiles. A new day, Demi smiles. When the days have gone gray, nothing's wrong when Demi smiles," she finished off with a light smile on her face. She took her fingers off of the keys and turned to face them.
"Thank you very much, Demi. That was lovely. You'll be hearing from us through the mail in about two weeks," the main judge said as she nodded, thanked them, and left the room.
"How did you do?"
"I think I did well. They were smiling at the end and they said I should hear back from them in two weeks," Demi answered as they began to walk down the hall towards the exit.
"I'm sure you'll get in. They'd be stupid not to admit you. Either way, I'm so proud of you," Odell said as he kissed the side of her face. He knew what it had taken for her to get to a place where she was comfortable enough to audition for a performing arts school and sing that song, so he felt nothing but pride for her.
"Thank you, Odell. Really, you've done so much for me and-"
"You've done just as much for me. I love you," Odell said before they entered his car.
"I love you too." Demi first told Odell that she loved him three months ago, but her face still flushed with color every time she said it and every time he said it to her. Odell kissed her heated cheeks before pulling out of the parking lot to go get his daughter.
Kierra gave birth to a little girl named Lola about nine months ago. It took Demi a while to get used the idea of Odell having a child but it wasn't something that she would ever leave him over, especially since he was so good with Lola. It was clear that Lola adored him, even though she was only nine months old. She clung to Odell whenever he was around, and since they weren't together, Kierra and Odell had a pretty good custody relationship worked out. At first, Kierra didn't like the idea of Demi being around Lola, but she got over it after a while.
