Demi Lovato Imagines

Admit it

"Dani and Y/n - come with me please," Kelsey orders, her head disappearing out your hotel room door as quickly as it appeared. 

You look over at Dani, sitting cross-legged on her bed. Her face is unreadable, but if you were going to use one adjective to describe it, it would be apprehensive. But, I mean, you get it. You're apprehensive too. Who wouldn't be after getting summoned by their boss' PA for an unknown reason? 

Before jumping off the bed and following Dani out the door, you stuff your box of Clozapine back into the side pocket of your rucksack. You had just been checking that you had enough to tide you over until the end of tour when Kelsey knocked on the door. Just the thought of not being able to take your antipsychotics makes your nerves twitch. 

Dani walks a few paces ahead down the corridor, not looking back at you, as if she already knows what this is all about. You wish she would cut the crap and give you the heads up if that's the case. Sure, the two of you haven't been the best of friends on this trip. And sure, the two of you have made it very clear that you don't like being room-mates. But surely she could throw you a bone here and let you prepare yourself for what's about to happen once you arrive in Demi's suite. The suite you are now standing outside of. 

Kelsey raps on the door, waits three seconds, then enters. You walk in, next to Dani, keeping your eyes fixed on the ground as the grubby corridor carpeting switches to a plush rug. Dani keeps her head held high though. You bet she can see Max, and Jill, and Ceasar sitting in the room as well, their familiar voices confronting you as you take another few steps into the vicinity. These guys have always intimidated you. The voices in your head tell you they laugh at you for being on 'crazy meds'. That's what the voices call them anyway. But it seems plausible that these guys would call them that too. And just the thought makes you cringe and want to dissolve into the thick, fibrous floor. 

Then, another voice,

"Take a seat, guys."

It's Demi. You would recognise her anywhere. It's easier to identify when it's her happy, friendly pitch that would put a smile on any face. Slightly harder when she uses the serious tone you are hearing now. 

You follow Dani as she strides confidently over to a small couch in the large sitting area, joining the rest of the ensemble cast of this scene. Does everyone but you know what's going on? Has everyone else been given a script? Are you the only one improvising here?

Despite the soft material of the couch, that probably cost more than everything in your room combined, your skin itches. You want nothing more than to raise your hand, ask to take a minute, and run back out of the room. But one look at Demi's face tells you she's not in the mood for wasting time. Nor is she willing to allow you to breathe and collect yourself. You haven't earned that right. You're just that girl on the crazy meds. You think they care about you? Stop kidding yourself.

Right. 

Stop being so pathetic! Can't you hear them all whispering about you? They do it all the time. Can't you hear them through the walls at night? You can hear them thinking it. Listen carefully. You hear it don't you. They think you're insane. 

You know. 

"Y/n. Look at Demi when she's talking to you," Jill snaps from across the room. You have always been aware of how Jill treats you like a misbehaving child that she can't be bothered with anymore. It makes you want to curl up in a ball every time she raises her voice in reprimand. Without needing to be told twice, you raise your eyes to look at Demi, gulping back the tears. 

"Do you two have any idea why I've called you here this afternoon?" she asks, raising one eyebrow as if to say: this is your one and only chance to come clean. And you hate to disappoint. That's what makes it so hard when you genuinely can't come up with anything that would appease her. You're stumped. You have absolutely no idea what this whole charade could be in aid of.