Louder - Demi Lovato/Selena Gomez/Liam Payne

12/Rolling In The Deep/

12/Rolling In The Deep/

'I can see you crystal clear, go 'head and sell me out and I'll lay your shit bare, see how I leave with every piece of you, don't underestimate the things that I will do'

+ + + +

The last few shows of the tour flew by who knows when and by the time they did, I was on complete hectic schedule mode twenty-four seven. Once I had gotten to L.A. I was constantly working, in the studio, at radio interviews, at photo shoots and all those kinds of things new artists were supposed to do. I was also introduced to my own personal crew. Jenny, who was my personal stylist, helped me with all of my appearances and outings, Rob, as always my vocal coach, and Steve, my manager to help guide me with my whole career. But the best part was that Demi always substituted Steve if he was out doing something else or if he couldn’t make it.

Today Steve was supposed to show me where my apartment was so I could move into and out of Selena’s place. At least I didn’t have to move too far; Steve said it was in the same neighborhood. Apparently that’s where a lot of the famous people lived. Supposedly I’ll be living really close to Vanessa Hudgens, Anna Sophia Robb and, of course, Demi and Selena.

I was still in bed when I heard banging at my door.

“What?” I groaned, hiding my head under my pillow to attempt to muffle the sound away.

“Common, Ellie! We have to get your stuff out of here. You have a photo shoot this afternoon and we can’t be late for that!” Steve hollered, continuously pounding on the door.

“Ugh!” I groaned again, slowly rolling myself to the floor with my covers, causing a loud thud beneath me along with a wince of pain rushing through my side groaning from it.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, probably heard that thud.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, getting up and collecting myself.

I yawned, approaching my closet and finding some clothes to wear which ended up being a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. I wasn’t in the mood to looking good today. I swung the door open, seeing Steve still waiting there. He had his arms crossed over his chest.

“You still haven’t even attempted to pack?” Steve gasped with his eyes wide, not looking happy with me at all.

“I was too exhausted to do it last night,” I claimed “I’ll get to it.”

“And that’s now,” Steve demanded.

I did as said, and started pulling everything out of the closet one by one and throwing them onto my bed, along with everything in the dressers and side tables that were mine. An hour passed and everything was packed and Steve and I were on our way to my new home.

“I think you’re going to like this place I picked for you,” Steve mentioned, turning onto a bigger street as the light turned green.

“Yeah,” I spoke, not looking at him, but at my phone in front of me.

Ever since everyone knew about my music, I’ve been wanting to stalk my twitter constantly, trying to see what people were saying about me. I’ve been verified on twitter ever since the New Year’s performance a few weeks ago, and now it was so much easier for people to find me. Even if I didn’t know the people constantly answering to me, whatever they said, still affected, negative or positive.

I was looking at the responses and yeah I had fans but the jerks that insulted me always hit me. I didn’t respond, I just somehow made myself believe what they were saying was true.

Some of the responses were pretty mean.

‘This chick can barely sing.’

‘Why is she even here?’