Black Into Gold // Demi Lovato // 3

5. Flight

The next day, I woke up in my bed with Demi. After our bouncy castle sex, she was too tired to go to her new home which was even further away than the house she was selling. She was asking for 9.5 million but no one was interested. She ended up lowering it by $500,000 and she got an offer from the newly married Justin Bieber and Hailey Baldwin. For 3 million less.

"They're trying to steal it," I tried to warn, but she waved me off.

"Honestly, it doesn't matter. It's not a big deal. I just want it sold."

I agreed and didn't bring it up.

So now Justin and Hailey owned "Demi's overdose house," as the online articles had started calling it.

Demi bought a new house with the intention that I would move in, but it hadn't happened due to her treatment and my PT.

And now that I was better, I was able to work with Abby for the magazine and it left me with less time to think about packing.

Demi was encouraging, but not in a nagging way, which I appreciated.

Anyway, Demi's hair was in my mouth when I woke up and I stuck my tongue out to keep her long locks from going down my throat. My own hair was still purple, but it was faded to a light lilac; I would have to get Abby to touch it up when we had some free time.

"Wakey, wakey," I said, sitting up.

"No," Demi groaned lightheartedly. Then she shot up. "Oh, we gotta get up!" She jumped up and found her bag she left the night before. And the second bag she left. She didn't tell me why she left two bags. One was a large black suitcase, and the other was a smaller one like it. She opened up the smaller one on the bed and started to get dressed.

I stood watching and she had her jeans on when she noticed I wasn't doing anything.

"Maia, get dressed. We gotta go."

I didn't question it, because she sounded so serious. The situation was reminding me of those scenes in movies where a couple has to make a quick getaway after committing a crime. I got dressed and we both did a quick layer of foundation and mascara. Apparently there was no time for anything more.

"Where are we going?" I asked as Demi helped me pack the last of my things, i.e. my brush and makeup bag. She made me pack before our date, and I didn't question it because I was excited we were celebrating our anniversary.

"Somewhere, okay." After we had everything, she grabbed her car keys and we carried our bags outside to her car. I locked the door behind me, not sure when I would be coming back. Demi had made me pack enough for at least a week.

"Yeah, that's not vague at all," I joked, putting my suitcase in the back of the car next to her big one. She left the small one in my bedroom. Apparently it was only what she needed to get ready in the morning. How was she so prepared?

I just shook my head a little and climbed into the passenger seat.

She offered no clues about where we were headed as we listened to overplayed pop songs on the radio.

Eventually, I realized we were at the airport. "We're flying?" I asked, gulping. I wasn't a fan.

"Is that a problem?" Demi asked, parking in the giant lot. "Wait, are you scared of flying? How did I not know this?"

"Because I had never flown until I moved to New York and I didn't have fun. So I bought my car and drove everywhere." It was weird not having my car anymore.

"Aw, I'm sorry you didn't have fun. But I'm here, so that should make it better. Come on." She grinned and grabbed her things before getting out. I followed, slowly, and we got our bags and headed inside.

As we were boarding the plane, after a long wait, I finally pieced together that we were going to Dallas, Texas, the place where both of us grew up. But why?

We got to our seats, me on the outside, Demi in the middle, and an empty window seat, and all I could think was about how I was gonna die.

"You couldn't have gotten a private jet or some shit?" I muttered.

"I was going to, I swear, but this was all I could get, being so last minute and everything. I'm sorry." She squeezed my hand and smiled. I forced a smile and understanding nod, returning the squeeze around her fingers.

"Okay, okay. I just wanna get one thing clear," I said, seriously, leaning over so nobody else could hear. "If this plane crashes, I'm gonna kill you Demetria Devonne Lovato."