Demi Lovato Imagines

Lies

TW

Despite the stinging pain above your right eyebrow, you were still pissed. 

There was pretty much nothing that could be done that would detract from that. 

He had beaten you black and blue.

Then blamed it on you.

What a bastard.

So here's what happened: You had sprinted to his place after work. And sure you knew you were a little late because Demi had wanted to run over one of her songs one more time. But you were sure you were still going to make it back on time - until you glanced absentmindedly at the clock while still listening to the singer belt out an amazing note and realised you were supposed to be back fifteen minutes before. 

No big deal, right? Wrong. 

As soon as you stepped into Jake's dingy flat, he grabbed you by your wrist yanking you further into the dark room and immediately started hitting you - one punch for every time he asked you what took you so long. That you were always supposed to be on time because you have nowhere else to be unless you need to tell me something, huh? Are you cheating on me, Y/n? I swear to God you better not be cheating on me you little slut!

You remember the thoughts that floated tiredly in your head as you lay on the floor, trying to get your breath back from the screams you emitted during your last altercation with Jake. You remember thinking how great it would be to cheat on him - to see the look on his face when he realises he isn't your whole world. Imagining what it must feel like to have someone who actually cares for you and protect you, to worry about your safety when you're late, not worried that you're off in bed with someone else. To have someone fight for you when Jake would come in the middle of the night for another go, creeping into your house and into your bedroom when you are least expecting it. And you have to pretend like you enjoy it. Like it's fun. Like it doesn't hurt when he does this - and then abuses you for not being into it enough the next day. 

This jungle of thoughts become drowned out by the words Jake spat at you when he was finished:

"You'd better let your little pop-star boss know never to make you late again. 'Cause you know what's coming to her if she keeps you behind another time..."

You knew. 

You knew what he was capable of. Jake could do wonders with just a first name and vague location. You didn't even dare to think how easily he could get access to Demi considering how high-profile she is. 

But it's fine; she will be fine; you're not going to let that happen. 

Why? Because Demi is going to dislike your company so much that she won't even want to keep you behind to run another track with you. After you're finished, she may even fire you. Which isn't what you want, let's be clear, but you know that if it came to that - it would keep her further away from Jake. And that's the goal, right?

Trying to hide your limp as you drag your way to work the next morning, you tried to justify what you were about to do. I mean technically it was Demi's fault. She was the perfectionist who wanted to record for longer yesterday. She was the one who made you late. She is the reason Jake went to town on you last night. All of this would have been avoided if it wasn't for her. So what if her feelings get hurt? They can't hurt as much as your splitting headache right now.

And all these thoughts would have been far more justified...had the motive behind this whole plan not been to keep her safe. 

Stepping out of the hot sidewalk and into the air-conditioned studio, you keep your head down as you meander your way through the rabbit-hole of corridors. You have no idea where the singer might be. Probably not in the recording booth this early. And you are kind of hoping that you will be able to carry this out without anyone else seeing. Fat chance though - the woman has, like, 24-hour security.