Prompt: Demi Lovato is in an abusive relationship with Wilmer Valderrama (requested by Ashley_95)
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~Demi's POV~
I breathe a sigh of relief as one of the X-Factor producers yell for a break, alleviating Kelly, Simon, Paulina, and I of a horrible performance.
"My ears are still ringing from that high note," Kelly groans.
"You mean the one that she couldn't hit?" Simon snorts.
"At least she tried," I weakly defend, agreeing that it was a horrible, horrible performance.
Simon glances at me curiously.
"Brat?"
"What, old man?" I distractedly mumble a retort, noticing my boyfriend, Wilmer, stalking towards our judges' panel.
"Have you been feeling okay? You've seemed off lately."
"I'm fine," I lie, involuntarily shrinking back in my seat slightly as Wilmer grows near.
"Dems," Wilmer addresses me by a pet-name, but I can hear the subtle edge in his tone, sharp like a knife. "Can I talk to you?"
He leans on the table, palms face down, looming over me. His entire body posture is tense. I wrack my brain for anything that I could have possibly done or said to piss him off. Nothing.
"Can't it wait until our lunch break?" Kelly saves me, and I have to refrain from releasing a thankful sob. "They should be starting the cameras back up any second now."
"Sure," my boyfriend curtly nods before returning to the side wing, out of sight.
"Why was he so tense?" Paulina wonders.
"Work," I vaguely respond. "Just work," I plaster a fake smile on my face as the producers begin the countdown to begin rolling the cameras again.
~
When it is time for our lunch break, the other three judges hurry backstage, conversing amongst each other while I trudge slowly behind, dreading seeing my boyfriend.
"There you are, neña," he kisses my cheek, gripping my arm painfully tight.
I fake a smile in front of everyone, allowing him to drag me to my dressing room. My stomach uneasily flips as I watch him shut the door behind us.
"There are rumors, y'know," he vaguely says.
I roll my eyes. There are always rumors.
"People think you're hooking up with that blonde British guy," he arches an eyebrow.
"Niall?" I furrow my eyebrows, knowing that there have been plenty of rumors lately revolving around him and I. "He's Irish," I correct without thinking, regretting the words as soon as they slip past my lips.
"So, you have been cheating on me, haven't you?" He advances towards me, and I back up hastily, cursing myself when my back slams against the wall.
"N-no," I stutter, my nerves getting the best of me as I prepare myself for the first hit. "I would never cheat on you, baby, never."
He laughs, lacking humor.
"Bullshit, Demi," he boxes me in. "If you would never do it, why am I finding it difficult to believe you?"
"Because you're paranoid."
Why can't I keep my mouth shut? I'm practically asking to be slapped.
