Break Free // a.g (Lesbian Story)

Catatonic Hysteria

~Ariana~

I was used to paparazzi, but this was different. I hadn't said a word, and I know Lyric hadn't, about our relationship. I know Frankie hadn't either because he'd have given away his whole game on Big Brother, and I hadn't told my mom yet. So, who told? Who knew?

Lyric was extremely pale. So pale that she looked like she was going to pass out. I panicked suddenly, knowing she wasn't used to this. I grabbed her arm quickly and dragged her to my car. Once inside, I sped off down the driveway and started making my way down to the studio.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. Lyric was frozen, her skin paper white. I reached over and squeezed her hand gently. "You're okay. You're safe now. We're in the car, and the paparazzi are gone, alright?" She gave me a weak nod and I sighed before squeezing her hand again.

Once at the studio, there were more paparazzi out front.

"Shit," I muttered, parking in my reserved spot in the studios lot.

"Lyric. Focus. Where's the back entrance?" I asked, placing my hands on her face. She pointed a shaky hand to a dingy, dented door behind a dumpster. I got out of the car and pulled Lyric out with me. I dragged her over to the dumpster and got her to help me push it just enough to open the door and get inside.

Lyric had started hyperventilating so I held her until she calmed down.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. She nodded slightly and I kissed her cheek before walking to the elevators with her. Once in the studio, Jones came over to us.

"When were you going to tell me?" He asked.

"About what, exactly?" I asked. Lyric awkwardly slid away from us to start doing her job.

"Ari, I love and respect you. You know that. But you can't break up with someone and then start dating someone else like five minutes after. It's bad for your image," he reasoned.

"What in the actual fuck are you talking about?" I asked him, completely confused.

"You and the red head," Jones replied.

"Her name is Lyric," I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Look, I don't care who you date, as long as they're not treating you like shit and they don't ruin your image," Jones said.

"Fuck my image!" I cried in outrage. "Fuck the paparazzi! Fuck all of them! I don't care about my stupid fucking image. When I was with Nathan, I was showing girls that it's okay to stay with someone even if they're an emotionally and verbally abusive prick. All they're getting from my relationship with Lyric, which has only lasted less than twenty four hours by the way, is that it's okay to be yourself and be with who you want to be with, no matter the gender."

~Lyric~

As Ariana got more and more upset and Jones failed to calm her down, he gave me a pleading look. I bit my lip for a moment, contemplating if I should help or not. Finally I decided I couldn't handle my princess getting so hysterical so I walked over and slipped my hand into hers, pulling her to face me.

"Calm down," I said in a serious tone.

"I will not calm-" Ariana started to shout. I cut her off by kissing her gently. I was slightly taller than her, so when we broke apart she rested her head on my collar bone and I gently ran my fingers through her hair.

"Are you okay now?" I asked softly. She nodded, arms wrapped loosely around my waist.

"Good. If you keep screaming like that you might lose your voice. Not the best idea," I reminded her.

"You're right," she sighed. She pulled back, kissed me gently and walked into the studio.

"How did you do that?" Jones asked me. I shrugged. "I just, get her."

"We could use you on tour when she gets hysterical. You know, when she sees the hate signs and doubts herself." I nodded, staring down at the dials and knobs on the sound board, adjusting them until they were all right and Ariana could start singing.

"Would you," Jones asked, resting a hand on my shoulder, "come on our next tour with us?"