The Consequence of a Dream

Ch. 16

Phoenix's pov

When I finish my set, I pass everything off to the sound person. I take a detour to the hallway where Demi's dressing room is.

"No, we need to go back to Demi's dressing room." Max says.

"I just need to use the bathroom." I lie.

"Ok, but after that, we need to go back to the dressing room." He decided.

"Ok."

I walk into the bathroom and lock the door behind me before letting tears fall. I hate it here. It's one thing to have my dad hate me. It's another to have an arena full of people hate me. My dad has a reason, but what did I do? Why do all these people hate me?

I pull my phone from my pocket and grab the blade from it. I repeat my new after show ritual and cut. I don't stop until my ribs have no where left. I flush the toilet to make it sound as if I really used it then run the sink water before grabbing some paper towels. I lift my sweatshirt up and fold the paper towels and lift the sports bra and put the paper towels over the cuts. I then pull the sports bra down and let my sweatshirt fall back down as well.

Normally I put no effort on stopping bleeding, but with it being on my ribs, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea. The last thing I'd want is for blood to run down my side and me lift an arm and that cause the sweatshirt to lift and show that blood.

I turn the sink water off and rip a few more paper towels and pretend to dry my hands and throw them away.

I walk out of the bathroom and see Max still standing outside of it. I guess the last time he got in trouble by Demi was enough for him. Because since then, he's refused to let me out of his sight.

I walk past Nick in the hallway, "Great Job Phoenix."

I pretend to have not heard as I walk to Demi's dressing room and sit on the floor outside of it, "No, inside." He says.

"I get better signal outside of it and I have to text my dad." I lie.

I pull my phone from my pocket and open up my direct messages to see the group chat I'm in active.

Wait can y'all believe she really thinks we're friends with her

I'm just here for Demi

Same

Wait I thought we were??

No Tiff, were just here for Demi.

Y'all know she can read all this right??

She's on stage flopping hard rn. It's funny. Just spam so she can't see.

Y'all know she probably doesn't talk to Demi about who's she's talking to right?

Tiff, stfu.

I stare at the messages trying my absolute best to not cry. I should've known better. Why would a large group chat just add me in it and want to be my friends. I hate myself, why am I so stupid? I fall for everything, why?

I mute the group chat due to me being to scared to leave it. I don't want me leaving a group chat to give Demi's fans another reason to hate me. Because I just know that's exactly what would happen.

"Ok I saw the texts happening." Max says.

"He's working, I have to wait until he can text back." I lie.

He just walks into the dressing room as Demi walks out. She walks right past me not saying a word and I walk into the dressing room now that she's not in it. I sit on the couch and hide my face in barleys fur and let my tears fall.

I hate it here so much. Being abused by my dad was easier to handle than this. I don't want to be here anymore. I shouldn't have agreed to come. I should've listened to my dad and not come. I don't have talent just like he said. I'm not pretty enough to even be a singer. I will never make it past YouTube. I'll never amount to anything more than a YouTube singer. I'll never be anything more than a mistake. I'll never be more than a continuous disappointment. I'll never be more than a constant embarrassment. That's it.

I let the tears just fall freely until I hear the final 5 songs. That's when I stop and wipe my face. I then just rest my head on Harley.

It's the door that opens that catches me off guard and I see Demi walk in with a look of anger on her face.

What did I do wrong? Is it because I didn't reply to nick? Or not follow her orders of coming straight back to the dressing room when I got off stage?

I watch her angrily pack her things before walking out of the dressing room and I put harleys leash on and sit still on the couch.

It's only a few moments later when the door opens and Demi shoots me an angry glare, "I said let's go." She snaps.

What did I do?

I get up from the couch and follow behind her several feet away. I don't know why she's angry but I don't want to be right under her right now. It seems like she needs a lot of space from me if she's upset at me.

Again, this is why you don't trust anyone though. Because they all turn on you. This is the lesson I've learned today. Trust no one, because everyone's fake and to be untrusted. They all will hurt you.

We walk through the maze of hallways until we're outside and once she gets on the bus she slams the door right in front of my face.

I take a few steps back and hold Harley tight, "It's just you and I, I guess." I say quietly.

I look down at her, "Maybe we should just leave. I don't think she wants us here anymore. No one else does anyway. It's ok." I whisper.

Harley just looks up at me and I nod, "Let's just leave. I upset enough people already." I say.

The dog in my arms doesn't protest, and just like that I walk off the arenas property. I let out a deep breath.

I have no idea where I'm going but I know that anywhere but this tour is where Demi and Demi's fans want me to be.

I hold Harley with one arm and google a park nearby and see there's one only 3 miles away.

"Well, I guess we'll go to a park Harley. Until I figure out what to do tomorrow at least. One day at a time I guess." I say.

I just start the google maps and follow the directions on the map. The walk seems a lot longer than 3 miles, but once I get to the park, I just sit on a bench with Harley.

"My legs are going to be really sore tomorrow. How did you're tiny body walk all over Atlanta and not hurt?" I ask.

She rests her head in my lap and I let out a sigh, "I'm sorry I did this to you. I'm sorry I took you away from Atlanta and have you a good life for a week and here we are where you're back to square one, just with me. I failed you."

Just like I fail everything and everyone. I'm nothing but a failure.

I stare at the pitch black sky, "You know Harley. I didn't think this is what Brooklyn looked like. I always thought New York was just a bunch of buildings. That's what my teacher said it was when she showed a bunch of photos last year. It was just a bunch of skyscrapers and like these big colorful light up signs with advertisement. But this is like very grassy. Not much concrete or skyscrapers."

I really need to stop using photos as what a place looks like. California was underwhelming too. If I can photoshop myself in places I've never been. Then of course people can photoshop a place that doesn't exist.

Not that it matters. I'll be stuck here for a long time. I might as well get used to it. Because I guess this is home now.